Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
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  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Character:
      Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Foul-Mouthed_Characters, BAMF_Women, Tags_May_Change, Bad_Parenting,
      Manipulation, Abuse, Forced_Relationship, Slavery, Bisexuality, Different
      Chapters_Follow_Different_Characters, Inhuman_characters, Characters_That
      Don't_Support_the_Gay_Lifestyle, Drama, Non-sexual_Full_Body_Examination,
      Interspecies_Relationships, Sexual_Content, attempts_at_humor, Implied/
      Referenced_Underage_Prostitution, Referenced_Forced_Prostitution,
      Excessive_use_of_the_"f"_word, Prostitution, Recreational_Drug_Use,
      Incest, Size_Difference, ...._Ish, Forced_Non-Romantic_Bonding, Stuff
      That_May_Count_as_Animalistic_Behavior, does_it_count?, I'm_Not_Really
      Sure...., Polyamory, Angst, Drug_Addiction, Constructive_Criticism
      Welcome
  Series:
      Part 1 of Traveling_The_Inner_World
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-03-04 Completed: 2015-10-20 Chapters: 50/50 Words: 122173
****** Traveling The Inner World ******
by She_Who_Only_Knows_War
Summary
     Simply put, the working out of my characters and their personalities.
Notes
     I wanted to better flesh out my characters (Or try to) and see if I
     can build deeper, stronger relationships between them. (Or, at the
     very least, enhance my writing skills. Because every little bit
     helps)
     Lastly, please do inform me of spelling errors as this is currently
     unbeta-ed.
***** A Young Man's Introduction *****
He had died. He knew he did. Or maybe this whole thing had been a dream. His
heart fluttered at the idea of going home and being welcomed by his mother and
little brother.
But he couldn't ignore the six-foot hole he was residing in and the smell of
turned earth.
No. No, this couldn't be possible. What happened? What happened?
"Are you going to cower in your hole forever, Child?" A woman with dark red
hair was perched at the edge of the hole, looking at him with thinned lips.
"Get up." She smelled like death.
The whole place did, he realized. He shivered at the thought. "Who are you?"
He'd never seen her in the village. He would remember such a stern woman.
"Renjin Toko," She said. The chill of the fall weather turning her face rosy.
"Now give me your hand, boy." Her own extending to him. This wasn't an offer
but a command. Her hand was warm when his clasped it. But gooseflesh rose along
her arm.
He was so cold. She pulled him up with only a little effort. Which wasn't
saying much because he had a thin frame to begin with. The stench of death was
overwhelming now. And looking around he was horrified to find human remains
strewn about.
What caused such a massacre? "Did you kill all of these people?" His voice was
shaky. Almost frantic.
She considered her answer, absently looking at the carnage. "In a way," She
said. "But in the same way, so did you."
The very idea of him doing anything like this was the last straw that
overwhelmed him. Feeling his stomach churn, he had only enough time to turn
away from the woman and wretch until he was dry heaving into his own grave. Oh
God! His grave! He was dead. He was dead!
“Now that we’ve,” She paused to find the right word, no doubt, “established
that you cannot go back,” Because she couldn't possibly lay him to rest in this
particular hole now, “Come along.”
“Are you escorting me home?” He blurted before he could stop it.
She stared at him. “To the humans?”
Confused, he nodded.
She resisted a sneer. “No.”
“What?” He raised his voice. “Why?”
She looked as though she wanted to lay hands on him for a moment and he fought
the urge the scuttle back, away from her. He didn’t want her to think he was a
coward and because she brought him back to life, there was no purpose for
killing him either.
“I won’t allow it,” She said.
“Please.” His voice crackled. “Please let me see my family again. I need to
know if they’re okay.”
A glimmer of something flitted across the back of the woman’s eyes. “Fine. But
do not interact with them.”
“Why?”
“Because you will not willingly return to me if you do.” Her tone was matter of
fact.
Perhaps he should have spent more time musing over the conversation. But he
couldn't bring himself to care. He was far too happy. He ran so fast he felt as
though he were practically flying over the land, he felt fresh and new and just
a little funny. Maybe it was from what had happened today. Maybe it was being
on the cusp of what his mother called Manhood. Although, really, he'd been the
man of the house for some time before this Coming-of-Age business. Either way,
he was faster than he had remembered and he loved it.
He slowed to a quiet walk as he approached the sleepy village he had grown up
in. Getting in would be simple. He slipped over a wall he knew would have few
guards at this time, having worked this wall himself. Besides, they were
repairing the damage done from the last attack.
The one that took his life.
He felt his world tilt just slightly at the notion that he had been lucky yet
so very unlucky, but did his best to ignore it.
The village had put a sword in his hand the moment he was deemed old enough to
fight. He had died protecting this place and his family that had been carefully
hidden away inside of it. And even if that woman tried to stop him, he would do
it again.
He walked past the old, closed down school he had once attended. It had been
shut down in the middle of the school year. They never did say what they were
going to do with it. They had built a new one near the Town Square. He came to
a crossroads and took the road on the left, past the new church with all of its
beautiful stained glass windows. He had helped, or tried to, put those windows
in. His hands had been monstrously cut up by the end of that day.
When he finally made it to the little cottage at the end of the dirt path, not
far from the park he and his brother once played in, he looked through the
window and was relieved to see his family having a meal at the table. The table
he grew up sitting at. His mother was pale and somber and his usually robust
brother was too thin and a touch wan. Longing filled his heart. He struggled
with the woman's orders and his worry for his family.
She won't know if her orders aren't followed, He decided. He rapped on the door
with his knuckles and gave a winning smile when the door opened. His mother
stared at him in disbelief.
His brother came running to the door when she gave a heart wrenching scream.
He pushed his way into the house and after a lot of freaking out, he had the
chance to explain what happened.
"You're filthy," His mother said after about five minutes of silence. Probably
because she was still in shock. "Go bathe."
No complaints there. Looking at himself in the mirror, he realized he was
covered in dirt. No wonder she had such a reaction.
When he exited the shower, so clean he was probably shiny, he was quite happy.
The happiest he'd been all day.
His mother insisted on feeding him. He wasn't hungry but ate anyways because he
wasn't sure when he would see her next. And he would miss her cooking. His
brother had so many things to tell him that they all stayed up talking and
laughing and crying until dawn.
Then he knew he had a problem. Because he had no intention of going back to the
woman that had resurrected him. Maybe he never did.
His mother and brother had gone to bed. So he decided he would make breakfast
for them. Maybe a brunch because they were exhausted. He was tired. But he
wasn't sleepy.
He hummed to himself as he fried the eggs but a shadow moved in his peripheral.
Turning to look, he found nothing but the shadow cast by a tree limb outside
the window.
"What did I say to you?" Her voice was low, graveled with hot, burning anger.
He shrugged, choosing not to even grace her with a glance. "That I wouldn't
return to you if I interacted with them." He put the eggs on a large plate.
"You were right."
Being thrown across the kitchen, into the counter, head banging against the
cupboards, was something he knew would bruise him. Not badly. But enough to
distract him.
Renjin, he remembered finally, that was her name. Casually, she turned the
burner off. "Don't make a fuss." Her tone was light, not so angry anymore. "And
come with me."
"Why should I?" He asked, slowly standing and setting a defiant posture.
"Because if not," She idly picked up the frying pan and put it in the sink, "I
will torch this precious little town of yours and kill everyone in it."
Fear twisted in his gut. Surely she wasn't like that. She had been rather
lenient with him the last twenty-four hours, so he really couldn't see her
doing it.
Her lips thinned, shoulders rolling back. "You doubt me?"
He bit the inside of his lip, unsure how to reply.
"I thought so," She said.
And then she snapped.
He waited. And waited. And nothing happened.
Renjin seemed irked by this. "The manual way it is," She said, turning to go up
the stairs. "Who should die first? You mother or that pathetic whimpering thing
you call a brother?"
Too afraid to be stung by the insults, he jumped between her and the first
step. "Neither. Please don't kill them."
"Ah," Said Renjin. "I was too nice the last time you said please." She pushed
past him.
He quickened his pace and got in her path mid-way up. "I'll go with you. I
will!"
"Che." She pushed past him again. "Stop your whining little whelp."
Desperate by the time she was nearly to his brother's room he threw himself in
front of the door. "You will have to kill me first!"
"You have no idea what you are saying," She said.
This time though, when she reached to brush him aside, he felt heat rush up
inside like a fountain and pushed her away. "No!" He cried. "You won't touch
him!" Every word was accentuated by a push from himself and a hiss from Renjin.
How dare she threaten his family?! How dare she come into his house and make
all of these strange demands and then scare him out of his wits?! He was
eleven, damn it!
Her hand swiped him across the face and he went down. "Enough!" She roared.
But he wasn't afraid this time. They were nearly to the stairs and she was
covered in burns.
She had let him do this.
He was surprised that she had let him push her so far.
Her lips had started to twitch, trying to curl with wrath. "Get up." Her hand
shot out like a snake and caught his arm. She then jerked him ruthlessly to his
feet. There was another bruise he knew he would have. And it occurred to him,
of all times, just how much bigger she was than he.
"Come." This was an order he knew he would follow. "And don't you dare look
back."
As much as he wanted to, he didn't.
He trailed behind her, staring at his hands. Those burns were not something he
was capable of before. This was so weird.
"You should know that from the moment you leave this village, you belong to me.
And while I feel it is not suited to you," He could hear the, You don't deserve
it in the tone, "You will be called Sorajin."
"But my name is-"
"I don't care what your name was." Her eyes are sharper than a knife when they
turn on him. "All that matters now is that you understand that you are not the
sniveling child you were before."
"And a new name will help that?" He let more sarcasm than he intended slip. But
hey, she was being a complete pain in the arse.
"Yes," She said, eyes half-lidded in a way that might have been annoyance.
"What does that even mean?" Their language was different. He had only heard
about it from crazy old men on drinking binges and old books from the cathedral
library that he may or may not have slunk into under false claims of official
business. He was the protector of the village, right? The knowledge was
important.
"Continuous Blade," She said. He instantaneously thought it was stupid but he
wasn't sure if it was because she said it or he didn't like it. Because he
didn't like her either.
"What kind of name is that?"
"One your mother would never give you." She didn't look back, knowing he would
follow.
"Why that one?"
"If you keep being a little twit, I might just show you." Her tone was light
and dangerous at the same time. Like she might not want to like him either but
he was likable so she had to.
"I'm not a twit." It sounded much more childish spoken than in his head.
Renjin, this time, did look at him. Her lips quirked up. "No. No, you are not.
And this is why I chose you."
***** The Bells of War *****
Chapter Notes
     Should I mention these chapters aren't in chronological order?
     It's been awhile since I've tried to write anything action-y. I
     figured I should try my hand again.
The rain was cold. Probably the coldest it had been this season. It pelted him
with drops that were heavy like stones and stung like needles.
Kajiim walked beside him. Any sane woman would trudge. Or even abandon the
mission.
But not his Kajiim.
Never his Kajiim.
He wished he could have given her more protection but he couldn't afford to be
seen at this point. Surprise was his greatest weapon. And the weather was his
most skilled tool.
Everything had lined up the way he had hoped. But the storm was more stern with
him than he had really expected.
Their target was none other than the red-haired menace. Not Renjin herself, but
her elder brother. The one with the military and enough violence to make large
Clans step down.
Thanks to the man's father, they were only at half strength. Grief gripped his
heart but he ruthlessly shoved it down. There was no time to think about the
pain he had stupidly let fester.
Sasayo refocused, attention drawing back to the opportunity before them and
smirking as he watched them try to get one of their wagons free of the mud. The
rest of the caravan had left it behind. Kajiim, beginning to shiver beside him,
seemed to be on the same wave-length.
Dispatching the men was simple. And the supplies were so plentiful, Sasayo
almost decided taking them was more important.
Until he realized that there was always a purpose for simple victories.
Anayo was sitting inside the wagon, staring at him with the glowing green eyes
every one of that damnable family seemed to have. "What?" He asked. "Not going
to take my stuff and run?"
Sasayo was a little lost at the question.
Kajiim drew her weapon, a long, thin sword. "Not before killing you." Her voice
was soft. A balm to his soul even when issuing a threat.
Anayo just smiled at her. But one corner of his lip was trying to pull up in a
sneer. A Toko family trait.
Before Kajiim could set foot into the wagon, Sasayo grabbed her arm. Something
was wrong. And until they knew what, it was best to retreat.
Kajiim didn't argue. There was reluctance to leave him unscathed after
everything, and Sasayo felt the same way. But now, even with circumstances in
Sasayo's favor, he didn't want to risk it.
"You've learned well, boy." Anayo called after him, even though he was only a
year younger. "If only your brother had been as smart as you."
Sasayo stood ram-rod straight. Turning to make his own attack. But just as
suddenly, Kajiim was pushing him away from the wagon. "We're not going to die
because you were stupid from anger," She said.
He knew she was right. If it had only been him, he would have gone back and
willingly been slain in the name of his brother. But he couldn't risk Kajiim,
or anyone else on his list of responsibilities.
And he had so many responsibilities.
Anayo watched them in stunned silence. "Are you running from me?" He managed
finally when Sasayo was nearly fifteen feet from the wagon.
"I guess I am." He called back over his shoulder. "Don't let me catch you
around here again." He may have been shaken, but at the very least, he would
have the man power when Anayo came back. He was sure of it.
xXx
Kajiim was shivering violently when they made it through the door. Sasayo felt
like a complete coward and was in a foul mood as he threw wood into their
fireplace. "Can you light it?"
Kajiim nodded, dripping wet and lips turning blue. She was far from cut out to
be running around in the storm. Her warm nature meaning that cold weather was
bad for her health even if her body heat kept it from doing her in immediately.
Her teeth were chattering as she desperately tried to light the kindling. Her
hands were too unsteady.
Coming back from his study with his blanket, he threw it over her soaked form.
"Here," He said, with a little more heat then he intended, before lighting it
with a couple of flint stones. He impatiently blew on it as it took its sweet
time to catch much of anything aflame. Then the kettle began its high-pitched
whistle and he disappeared into the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later
with hot tea and a bowl of sugar cubes, setting it before her.
In even his foul mood, he kept an eye on Kajiim.
Her shivering was less now, and he was less concerned than he had been.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close. His body was only
damp.
He was born for the weather and his heat was, as Kajiim once complemented, very
furnace-like.
"Your blanket," Kajiim said, frowning at the now drenched piece of fabric, the
warm tea in her hands bringing color and life back to her skin.
"I don't need it." And even if he did, he didn't care. He had worked hard to
win this woman over and he would die before he let her go. He tried a subtle
glance but had to double take when he saw the way she was looking up at him
through her lashes. He shivered when his eyes met hers and the affection in
them became nearly tangible. A tender kiss became two. Two became four. Then he
was lost in her scent and affections.
The War Bells in the distance woke him from the deepest sleep he'd had in
months. Kajiim stirred but didn't seem quite awake.
He rolled out of bed and onto his feet. Anger twisted in his gut at the
knowledge that Anayo was, in fact, not going to take his warning seriously -
perhaps even called his bluff. This was unlike Anayo, a stupid move for a
usually intelligent man.
It was still raining outside, which meant he should probably take someone other
than Kajiim.
After pulling on his clothes and hanging his Deer Horn Knives on his belt, he
gave one last glance to Kajiim and debated on his actions.
Should he just go ahead and take her? Even in the rain? Should he even say
goodbye? There was a good chance that if he woke her, she would insist on going
with him. Should he leave her a note? What would he even say?
No, He decided. He would just leave. If he died, the night before was enough of
a goodbye for the both of them and she would know that.
Racing to the area that would be visible to the people in the tower the War
Bells were housed in, he was joined by two others, already drenched by the
rain.
"Who is it?" Asked the first. A woman by the name of Shiseken.
"And how many?" Asked the second. Another woman whose name was Kiren.
Hell, most of the people of his Clan were women. Capable women who had been
just fine before joining. But he really had preferred the company of men. At
least then, he never had to guess and read between the lines. Like, he had
learned that when women said, "Everything is fine", it meant nothing was fine
and you better not drink the tea because she had poisoned it due to something
you did earlier that week.
"Anayo, I believe. I don't know how many." He wished he did though. He had a
bad feeling this whole thing was going to end quite ugly.
Another joined, Asheer. She was not adjusted to the cold like they were and it
worried him that she may be a liability. But he wouldn't dare tell her that.
Another ten yards and he stood face to face with Anayo. Who was dripping wet
like himself and appeared completely at ease with it.
"Last chance," Called Sasayo.
Anayo gave a roll of his shoulders and a snide smirk. "Come on, now. Four of
you? Really?"
The others would join shortly or were waiting patiently to strike. He hoped
that Kajiim was still warm under the covers, sleeping through this entire mess.
Pulling his weapons from their place on his belt with a fluid grace that could
only ever come with practice, he waited.
The others drew their weapons behind him, backing him up.
With a laugh, Anayo fell upon him as fierce as he'd ever been. His sword
clashed against the blade in Sasayo's hand. "You always did pick the stupidest
of battle gear."
Sasayo resisted the thoughts of deja vu and the memories that accompanied them.
That was years ago. This was now.
A sharp diagonal swing for his throat had him jumping back, feinting and
darting in for his own attack. Anayo stepped back, out of the way of the blade
in Sasayo's right hand, parried the blade of his left. Anayo's feet slid for a
split second in the mud and Sasayo, meeting his eyes, knew the older man wasn't
used to fighting in wet weather. Knew his footing wasn't as good.
Anayo's men were being picked off from the tree line, they may have been at
half strength but they were still flexible. Sasayo felt pride at this
knowledge.
He feinted again to the right, darted to the left and went in for what he hoped
would be a killing blow.
Anayo twisted at just the right moment and used Sasayo's momentum to throw him
into the mud.
Kajiim was going to kill him if she had to wash another dirt stain out of his
clothes this week.
He rolled in time to avoid Anayo's blade. With concentrated force, the bottom
of Sasayo's foot connected with the Anayo's shin and the man literally fell on
top of him. What he hadn't counted on was Anayo headbutting him on the way
down.
Trying to fight past the stunning blow and the stars in his vision, he swiped
his right hand up but Anayo threw himself back only a moment too late. Red
bloomed where Anayo had been cut along his collarbone. But his sword was back
in his hand.
And he was livid.
He waited for Sasayo to stand before attacking, raining strike after strike on
Sasayo and giving him no opportunity to do anything but block, sparks shooting
off the ringing metal.
A familiar scream sounded near him and he had to force down the gut reaction of
going to defend. The distraction was all Anayo needed, Sasayo had moved back
but he couldn't avoid the slash across his chest. He was thankful when he
realized it wasn't too deep.
By now, Anayo's men had been whittled down and Sasayo had only lost a few
women.
Going in once more for the kill gained him nothing but a pommel to his left
temple.
When he was aware of himself a few minutes later, he was beaten and bloody.
But he was alive for some insane reason.
And he was fine with that. Really. Because it meant that he still had the
chance to make Anayo pay. For his suffering. For the death of his brother. For
the suffering of everyone else.
Yes, one day, Anayo would pay.
He felt guilty when he was hefted to his feet. "What happened?"
Asheer frowned. "He beat the," She seemed to realize how impolite it was to
swear in his presence, "He did you in. And when we swarmed him, he left like a
coward."
He wouldn't point out that swarming him was not exactly brave either. But you
didn't expect only one hornet to come out to sting you when the nest was
disturbed.
Mourning their dead would be done in the afternoon. He really didn't think he
could do it with the little amount of sleep that he had. It wasn't that he
didn't care. It was that he was worn and feeling slightly humiliated that it
had been so easy to take him down. That Anayo had been playing with him until
he'd landed a hit.
Some moved to the area in which their dead would be prepared for burial, some
went back to their homes. Kajiim greeted them halfway to the house he shared
with her and slipped under his arm, allowing Asheer to go about whatever it was
she was planning to do. She was nearly as bloody as he. The closer they got to
the house, the more stiff his joints felt.
The removal of his clothes was much more difficult than it had been last night.
But lowering him into the tub was a little easier. Kajiim's hands cleaned his
wounds and stitched the slash across his chest, below his collarbone.
She said nothing as she pulled up a stool, sitting behind him, then lathering
the soap into his hair, working the debris out. He almost was afraid to be this
intimate with her, knowing she would be furious that he left her behind.
The rain had stopped by the time he was clean and dressed. He had a few hours
yet before he needed to pay his respects to their Fallen and he really needed
sleep.
Flopping onto the soft bedding, he stared at the ceiling. Kajiim pulled the
curtains and they plunged into utter darkness. The blankets on one side of him
pulling slightly tighter being the only indication she was there. He lifted his
arm and she slipped underneath it, still silent.
"I could smother you in your sleep," She whispered after awhile, arms wrapping
around his waist.
"You could," He said. But she wouldn't. She was mad and felt guilty for not
being there. But there was nothing they could do.
"You're washing your own clothes," She said after a long, thoughtful pause.
"Because if I have to wash them again this week, you're eating them."
He could live with that. And while he wouldn't be happy later, he was going to
let himself be happy now. Happy that he had lived. Happy that Kajiim was
pressed against him, even if she was as angry as a wet cat. Happy that they
would survive another skirmish just fine.
Sleep overtook him in a way that was unexpectedly easy.
***** In The Bright Afternoon Sun *****
Renjin looked Sorajin over. He was dressed in his light gear that she had
commissioned specifically for him as soon as he'd been settled in her home.
"We'll need to have new armor for you soon," She said. "You've grown."
But not a lot. From his estimation, he'd only grown a few inches over the last
year. Apparently, Renjin was already concerned about it. "Not now, though.
Right?" He hadn't come to show her how glorious he looked in his battle gear.
Even though, admittedly, it was better than the stuff he had back in his
village.
Renjin tilted her head to the left, eyebrow drawing up. "You want to go with
them?"
He'd missed it last time, the trip Renjin's lover and All-Purpose-Right-Hand
took twice a year. Renjin had insisted he stay so she could finish the section
of training they were on because his previous training was "pathetic." Her
words, not his. But now, at twelve, he was feeling stir crazy and like there
was way more of this world to explore than he had been allowed to.
Renjin gave him a reluctant look. Like she really wanted to say no and it might
kill her to say yes. "Don't let Takka baby you too much." Takka was the Right-
Hand. She always pampered and treated him like her own kid. She was probably in
her forties and had no kids of her own. "And mind Sanchu because he has
permission to beat the daylights out of you." But he wouldn't even if he was
mad.
Sorajin beamed. Mindful of his manners, he thanked Renjin profusely before
running out of her chambers.
"That child is going to be the end of me," She muttered to the empty air.
xXx
Sanchu and Takka were waiting patiently at the gates. When Sorajin came close
enough to speak to them without yelling, Sanchu raised his brows expectantly.
"She said I can go."
Sanchu smiled and nodded, looking almost as pleased as Sorajin felt. Takka gave
a shrug and turned, beginning their route.
Mindful not to talk too much or chatter mindlessly, he carried on a
conversation with Takka, walking between she and Sanchu, who was mute. So
conversation with him was a lot harder and took too much of his attention away
from his vigilance. They carried on for two of the three day's journey,
stopping when Sanchu became tired. Because Takka had more stamina than them and
Sorajin was younger and thus had more energy.
In the early afternoon, they came upon a stream that, further down, opened up
into a river. Takka settled under a willow tree and gestured Sanchu up one of
the sturdier trees before handing canteens to Sorajin. "Fill 'em up, please."
Sorajin obediently went to find the best place to get water. Crouching beside a
big rock, he noticed a few fishing poles on the other side of the stream, up a
ways. Maybe that's why Sanchu was on look out duty and Takka was keeping an eye
on him. Had they spotted the signs that they weren't the only ones at the
stream?
He'd filled up his canteen when a pair of boys came splashing down the river to
him, scaring minnows and frogs his way. Fall was starting to make an appearance
but the days were still warm. He capped his canteen and a shadow fell over him.
A glance up put him face to face with an older boy. His eyes were ice blue,
like Takka's, but a little darker around the pupil. His hair was red but his
skin was dark, probably from the sun. So logically speaking, he probably dyed
his hair. Because his complexion was all wrong. He did have freckles, though.
Sorajin didn't see anything wrong with hair coloring. Most of the Not-people
he'd encountered had red hair and even though Renjin had said it was just his
luck of the draw, somehow he doubted that. The boy's trousers were rolled up
past his knees, suspenders clinging to bare shoulders.
A blond boy stood behind him, trousers also rolled up with a soaked-through
white button up shirt. "What's a wimpy little human doing out here?" He asked.
"That's Prince to you, kid." Sorajin said. Renjin had told him not to let
others talk down to him. He was her heir - whatever that meant - and he would
act, speak, and be treated as such.
The blond laughed. "Kid? You're obviously the youngest out of the three of us."
Frowning, Sorajin stood. "And just how old are you? Eight?" He didn't look like
he could be older than ten.
"Thirteen," Said the blond. He smiled at the look Sorajin couldn't cover in
time.
"What about you?" Sorajin turned to the red-haired boy.
"Fourteen."
He really was the youngest here. Damn it.
Misinterpreting the expressions that passed over Sorajin's face, the oldest boy
shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Sech is a runt and everyone thinks he's about
that age."
Sech scowled.
"'Specially with his minko legs."
"I don't have minko legs." Sech punched the older boy in the arm. "I'm svelte!"
"Skinny," Said the older boy with a toss of his head. The blond stormed off,
kicking and splashing his way back up to the fishing poles.
"You'll scare the fish," The red-head called after him.
"I'd worry if it weren't for the fact that your face scared them before I did."
Already having seen enough to know these two were troublesome, Sorajin decided
it was best if he left. He turned to go, but the older boy grabbed his wrist.
"Don't be rude. Stay." The smile the boy gave him was slightly unnerving. "At
least til, Sech cools down. It won't take long."
But Sorajin shook his head. "I should go. We have somewhere we need to be." The
grip on his arm wasn't painful, but it would be hard to break at this angle. "I
should be going."
His tone took an authoritative turn, something glittering in his eyes. "Stay,
Young Prince." The tone had a mocking edge that made Sorajin come within a
breadth of spitting in the bigger boy's face. But he reeled it in, knowing he
would be ashamed to say he did something disrespectful in response to
disrespect. Both Renjin and Sanchu would frown upon that. He sighed. A pleased
look took over the others boy's handsome features. It was maddening but Sorajin
swallowed it down.
Because this boy was probably a Prince, too "Chikotsu," He said. At the funny
look Sorajin gave him, he said, "It's my name."
"Sorajin."
The boy's expression demonstrated that he thought it was a stupid name, too.
"I've never heard of you." A glance to the willow tree and the sturdy oak said
he knew the other two.
"I'm new. Where are you from?"
Chikotsu looked at him strangely for a moment. "That direction." He pointed
behind him, to what Sorajin guessed was Southeast. "We're called The Pride, if
you didn't know." Ah, Renjin had mentioned them.
But that didn't mean she said good things. She frequently referred to them as
"The Harem Clan" because, she said, it was full of women. There were only two
men she knew of that had reached full maturity.
"I thought you were a girl," Chikotsu said. The light way he said it gave the
impression he wanted a reaction. He wasn't going to get one. "You're an awfully
pretty boy."
Renjin had wanted to cut his hair before he left but other members of the Clan
were in sudden need of attention. And Takka was afraid she would butcher his
hair if she tried.
So yeah, his hair was longer than he liked it. But Renjin said she wasn't
comfortable with him trying to cut it himself. Which translated to, "you can if
you have to but I'd rather that you didn't."
A hand on his shoulder brought him back from his reverie. "Want to learn
something new?" His smile was too toothy. Too friendly.
A hand gripped his jaw from behind, turning his face closer to Chikotsu. For
such small hands, the blond was packing some power. The grip was hard enough to
be a warning. Soft enough he wouldn't bruise.
Chikotsu was now close enough that Sorajin could see the deep blue design in
his eyes, around his slitted pupil. Something twisted in his gut. His first
real kiss went to a boy he barely knew.
He struggled but the blond gripped him like a vice. Fear began to bloom in his
chest. This was bad. This was very bad.
The sound of a whip hitting the large rock beside them had both boys moving
back. Sanchu stood with atop the boulder with a stern face and a willow switch
in his hand. That would burn like no other if he hit them with it, having been
hit with one himself when he was a kid, Sorajin was well acquainted with that
brand of pain.
Sanchu bounced the switch lightly in his hand, before gesturing that they back
off. The boys moved four paces before turning and watching curiously.
With a gesture towards Sorajin, the boy skittered off to where Takka was
waiting, Sanchu behind him.
"Thank you," Sorajin said, rubbing the back of his neck with a small amount of
shame. Sanchu shrugged, unconcerned.
He glanced back to the two boys, still watching him with curious, mischievous
expressions. It seemed they knew, just as he did on some instinctual level,
that this would not be the last time he met them.
"Watch the little one," Said Takka. "He seems like he's harmless but he's the
more vicious of the two." The grip the boy had on him earlier was testament to
that.
Sorajin took a moment to memorize their faces as they stood in the bright
afternoon sun.
When they were out of sight, Sorajin felt like he could finally relax, a hand
on his shoulder steadied him. A promise from Sanchu that the older man would
have his back.
***** When You Were Sixteen *****
Sometimes, when it's quiet, he feels like screaming. He isn't really sure when
he started feeling that way.
Anju always looks at him like he might be crazy. But she never says anything.
Never asks what goes on in his head.
Because she seems to think she might be crazy, too.
But Kira never does. Always assured and knowing of herself.
She leans against the counter, arms stacked, one over the other, top hand
against the upper arm of the arm underneath, watching his children and her own
plot and giggle. He wonders what goes on in his sister's head.
"I've been thinking about doing some traveling," She says after a while. "I'm a
little strung out since Luca left."
Her ex-husband had left over something inconsequential. For some reason, it
meant the entire world to him. He never insisted on taking either of their
children.
He just left.
Haunku thinks that he could never leave his family that way. That what Luca did
was brutal and wrong.
But he has done things that were twice as brutal and thrice as wrong as Luca.
So he had no right to speak to his Brother-in-law over it.
But damn if he didn't want to.
"Is that okay?" Asks Kira, trying to gauge his reaction.
"Are you leaving Orro?" Her adopted son. He could keep an eye on the boy. He
was old enough to care for himself, really. But Haunku knew he would need some
one around just in case. Her eyes slide back to him, expression unsure.
She was thinking about leaving them both.
Keteer, he could house - take in, even. But he wouldn't be able to house Orro.
Not because he didn't have the space, but because he really didn't trust that
boy due to the company he kept.
You were your company after all.
He can hear the ticking of the clock in the sitting room. Anju is soon to be
back from her shopping trip.
"You wouldn't keep him."
"He'll bring Itan over," Says Haunku. The boy's best friend is handsome and
sly, being the oldest son of the leader of a Clan co-inhabiting with Haunku's
doesn't hurt either. He has his own harem at this point and while Haunku can
respect it, he's profoundly bothered by it. And he doesn't want the young man
around his daughter, nor Kira's daughter.
"Itan is harmless," Says Kira.
But that's what Haunku said to his friends about Anayo before he murdered them
in cold blood. That's what he said about his own father before he had to
protect Kira from him.
"He isn't," Says Haunku. "I don't like him."
Kira isn't sure how to respond. She wants to argue but can't seem to find a
valid point to work with. Haunku knows his sister's moods well. But the fact
that he's the leader of their Clan, means she won't disobey blatantly. It could
start an uprising and she knows that.
"What do you want me to do with my son then?"
Haunku pauses. There are few havens for men Orro's age these days. There were
more when he himself was that young. He was never really all that happy there,
though. Haunku thinks about caving for a moment. Thinks about Itan. And then
thinks about the ways he had made it this far. "Send him out."
Kira nearly spits her tea across the room. "Send him out?" Her question is
really an accusation.
"I was on the run when I was younger than him and did just fine."
"But he isn't you."
"And no one is hunting him," Says Haunku. "He'll be safe and he'll be free. Two
things nobody from before his generation has had until a few years ago."
"We still don't have it," She says. "And we won't until-"
"I know," Says Haunku. "But he himself, no one knows about. No one will know
about. I can't keep him because he's male and therefore, should be thrown out
by now because he's unrelated and sexually mature. Probably active, even."
Kira stares at him. "Are you pretending to be the Game Keeper?"
"Pretending?"
"Once you're a poacher, it is wrong to think you could ever be anything else,"
Says Kira.
"Things have changed," Haunku says, Kira is pushing the buttons labeled 'Guilt'
and he hates it. He will admit to having been young and stupid. But he wasn't
going to admit to it more than once today.
"But we don't," Says Kira. "You and I, we're still the same."
"Kira," Haunku tries to set his cup of tea on the counter gently, "The times
have changed us. Changed me. And they have changed you." In a good way, he
thinks. It's made her less aggressive. Softer. The woman Haunku has always
wanted her to be.
But her son will grow colder the more time he spends with his friend. Haunku
doesn't know why the boy is the way he is.
But he has his ideas.
And if he's right, this thing incubating will spread. Orro will catch it - All
of their friends will.
Then it will incubate inside of their families. And their siblings will catch
it. And it will be spread to the next generation of innocent children.
He feels like screaming again.
Kira looks at him funny. "You're wrong," She says. "You're still the same. The
only thing that changed you was that night when you were sixteen."
He wishes people would bury that instead of unearthing it like they seemed to
never stop doing. There were a few people who had been in his shoes, who just
wanted to know.
But there were more than a few that wanted to drag it out of him. Or
commiserate with him.
He didn't want to be miserable over it. He wanted to have amnesia. He wanted
everyone who knew to just up and die. It was wrong and unfair but it felt
something like having flesh torn off of his bones when he got those knowing
glances.
Not as though they knew by looking at him, because they'd seen the likes of him
before.
But like some one had told them intimate details about his life and - His
thoughts are interrupted by shattering glass. His cup is on the floor. He bites
back a curse and turns for napkins.
There’s a puddle of tea on the counter where he cracked his cup from setting it
down too hard earlier.
Damn it!
"I'll think about it," He says. But he really has no intention of letting Orro
stay. He would die for the boy. But that didn't mean he would let his daughter
get hurt because of him. He has to draw the line somewhere. Family or not.
"I wish you would stop being so afraid," Kira says, leaving him alone in the
kitchen. She slams the front door on her way out.
He wishes he could stop being afraid, too.
***** Lessons *****
He flinched and let out a hiss through clenched teeth when the light came on.
But it wasn't the light that elicited the reaction.
It was the reflection in the mirror. The black eye and split lip meant little
compared to the hickeys and marks on his neck. The rest of him held bruises,
bite marks or rope burns.
Rage began a slow burn in his stomach, surging up between his ribs. He clamped
his teeth shut so it would stay locked between his tender, swollen, lips.
He felt disgraced. Dirty. And didn't like the man he saw in the mirror.
His father would look at him only once and his lips would thin and his eyes
would know.
His father would think he was weak.
His mother would think his girlfriend was too rough and wheedle him for the
name of the assumed girlfriend.
His brother would admire his bruises and cuts and ask if he won the brawl.
He didn't know if he should say yes and be adored or say no and watch in
amusement as his brother would jump to his defense and pledge to avenge him.
Oh, how he loved his family.
xXx
Kenjin had invited him to dinner with his twin children. Anayo and Anaya. Their
name similarity was irksome for Chiikets. But perhaps it had to do with the
fact that they looked and behaved alike.
Anayo had yet to meet his eye though, anxious over something. His sister was
friendly and oblivious to the tension.
"How is your father?" Kenjin asked. He was probably just being polite.
Chiikets' father was a high-ranking Lieutenant, after all. He had probably seen
the man recently.
"Good," Said Chiikets just as polite.
"And your mother?" Kenjin inquired again before the younger man could ask about
his family.
"Busy with so many things to keep up with, but she's happy."
"And your brother?"
Chiikets felt pride swell within his chest. His heart took wings. "He's taking
to his advanced schooling like a fish to water. We thought it would be hard for
him with his dyslexia," Kenjin knew about that. His father had fretted over it
constantly, unsure what it meant for the boy, "But he seems not to have it at
all."
Kenjin smiled and nodded. "You should introduce me to him."
Chiikets' heart crashed into his stomach, stirring the organ into a mess, then
dropping into the floor.
No. Oh no. What had he done?
Anayo still wouldn't look him in the eye. Anayo knew. There were only two
reasons for that, but he didn't want to think about either one.
Anaya wasn't afraid of eye contact, demonstrating that she must have no idea of
it whatsoever.
"He's awfully shy. Quite unlikable, really," Said Chiikets. "He'll probably
just infuriate you." He was lying. And Anayo knew that, too. Chiikets had no
idea how he knew - Only that he did.
"I'll be the judge of that," Said Kenjin.
Chiikets' hair stood on end. "Sir," He hoped his voice was steady, "I am
uncomfortable with this."
"Are you defying me, Chiikets?" His eyebrows drew together and up. He might
have been playing at hurt, but the younger man could see the promise of pain in
his future.
He swallowed the only spit he could find in his dry mouth, stalling as long as
he could. "Yes, Sir."
Kenjin's eyes darkened further with anger but the rest of him only emanated
hurt. His tone became authoritative. "I've taught you better than that."
Chiikets tilted his chin up and pulled his shoulders back, looking Kenjin in
the eye. "I know, Sir." He could pay for this later.
And the look Kenjin took told him he certainly would. There was a chill in his
bones, but he refused to give in. It was too late to be scared now anyway.
His brother would never hurt like he did.
Ever.
He would never allow it.
"Then you'll have to be taught again," Says Kenjin.
xXx
For four months, Kenjin attempted to reeducate Chiikets. He allowed it but
never gave into introducing his brother.
That gave Kenjin power over everyone.
Mainly himself and Shen.
The longer it went on, the more haggard his father looked and more worried his
mother got. Anayo started bringing dinner to his barracks the nights he worked,
apologizing for his father's actions.
"He's hurting you, too, isn't he?" Chiikets asked one night when he knew they
were alone.
"He doesn't mean it," Said Anayo.
"Does he say that or does he do something that makes you think that?"
Anayo didn't respond, utensil pressed against his bottom lip.
Chiikets gave his meal a rough stab. "He's playing you."
"He might be," Said Anayo. "But he's still my dad."
It was Chiikets' turn to fall silent.
xXx
Five months into the reeducation, Anayo started spending the night with him.
And he had his ideas about why that would be, but he didn't want to press his
friend - Oh gods, his friend! He was friends with the son of the man he hated!
Maybe I should kill Anayo in his sleep, He thought, sitting up slowly. They'd
left the window open because it was hot as hell, so the curtains in Chiikets'
room in barracks fluttered in the sweet breeze. The moon illuminated the red
hair in a way that made it appear as blood.
Maybe Anayo is a spy. He carefully picked up his pillow and slid out of his
pallet of blankets on the floor. His family may have come from less than a
perfect background, but he was still raised with manners. Which meant his guest
got the bed.
Maybe he will use all of this against me one day. Careful not to wake Anayo, he
stood over the bed, preparing himself for what he was about to do. Trying to
decide what he would do afterwards.
But is it possible he won't? He let the pillow hang in his left hand, by his
side.
Maybe Anayo was hurting just like he was.
The young man rolled over half way and looked up at him, eyes cracked open.
"What's up?"
His instincts screamed at him to do it now. To finish this and bury Anayo in
the back of his Aunt's lawn. No one would ever find him there. No one would
know. And that would be one more threat to his family out of his life.
He was bigger, even if just slightly. He could overpower the other red-head.
He could do it, he could. If he could do it fast enough, he might not even have
very many bruises.
Too late. Anayo became fully awake, wary. "Chiikets? Are you okay?"
That same voice became a whisper in the back of his head. He could still do it.
"Yes," He said, pushing it aside. "I just heard something and was wondering if
you heard it, too. But you were sleeping, so I guess not." He lifted a shoulder
in a half shrug. "Sorry."
If Anayo saw the pillow in his hand, he never said anything about it.
xXx
Six months in and he was exhausted. Anayo stuck to him like a brother. Someone
he could tell anything. And Kenjin never gave any indication that he knew the
things Chiikets had said. His family was used to the boy coming in and going
out.
Chiikets regretted ever wanting to kill him. He mused over it as he juggled the
bags in his hands, trying to get the door open.
"Mom, I'm home!" He called into the quiet house as he moved towards the
kitchen. She had sent him on an errand because she wasn't feeling well. He had,
of course offered because his father was busy.
Through the sitting room and down the hall with the wooden flooring Shen always
maddeningly scuffed up, he slipped in something and fell.
The groceries went everywhere.
He swore as he moved to gather them up. But he froze when he realized the
puddle he'd slipped in wasn't water.
Forgetting the groceries, he clambered to his feet and ran to the kitchen.
"Mom! Mom are you okay?"
There was sobbing when he was close enough to hear it. He stood, swaying in the
doorway, unable to fathom the sight.
Anayo sat on the floor, holding Shen against him and sobbing. His brother was
pale and looked scared out of his wits but fine otherwise.
His mother lay on the tile near Anayo, hair splayed out like ink spilt onto
paper. His father was leaned against their overturned table, silent and
unmoving.
Chiikets dropped to his knees. "What happened?" His voice crackled.
Anayo let Chiikets’ little brother free of his arms. He ran and clung to
Chiikets, shaking like a leaf in a storm. He stroked Shen's hair, wanting to
say that everything would be alright but feeling like nothing would ever be
again.
"Anayo," He said. "What happened?"
"They were like this when I got here. I," Anayo looked lost, "I don't know."
xXx
Anayo begged his father to let them stay until Chiikets could figure out what
he was going to do. Kenjin gave him only a few days.
Chiikets was alright with that, though. He didn't want to be around Kenjin
anymore than he had to be. He sent Shen to their Aunt on the edges of Kenjin's
territory. She loathed everyone, but tolerated her Blood-kin.
He prepared himself for being under Kenjin's rule - something he had never
wanted, but his father expected because he knew Chiikets would be well off.
Kenjin set Chiikets up with three different jobs, ensuring he could pay for his
family's burial. His Aunt offered but Chiikets couldn't allow it because she
was a widow and barely making ends meet as it was. And he'd already burdened
her with Shen. No, he could only do it himself. And he may not sleep or eat
well for awhile but it would be worth it. He's grateful his parents had paid
the house off when he was a kid.
Weeks went by and Chiikets worked his hands to the bone alongside another boy
named Haunku. He didn't like this other guy very much but they both had debts
they had to pay and dead parents they had to bury. Plus kid siblings that
depended on them to get this shit done.
He hadn't had the gall to ask, but the whispers around Anayo's place were that
Haunku killed his father. Nobody knew what the circumstances were, but it was
enough to wonder if he did it in cold blood or something like that. Haunku was
a brunette. Probably of Xii descent. Which made him unlikable from the start.
He was also a little bossy and had the muscle to back it up. Chiikets
grudgingly respected that.
Anayo began practically living at Chiikets' house again. And Kenjin had offered
to pay some of Chiikets' debt but only if he allowed Haunku and his sister to
stay there until Haunku could pay off his own debt.
He hated it but he owed Kenjin.
He owed him a lot.
Thankfully, Haunku stayed out of his way, did laundry and kept his kid sister
from under foot. Shen probably would have liked her. And he and Haunku could
bond by screaming either at each other or about the situations they were in.
Because they were close like that. It also relieved tension between them.
It's a horrible existence but Chiikets tries to find pleasure in the small
things. Like throwing cold water on Haunku in the morning because he wanted the
man to stop flushing the toilet repeatedly while he was in the shower.
They were both the pettiest in in history, but Chiikets could never be sure who
was pettier. He also had to laugh. If he didn't, he'd sit down and cry and
never get up again.
Haunku gave him a strange look from the kitchen. "Are you sane over there?
Cackling randomly is a really bad sign."
"Shut up and come sit with me," Said Chiikets.
Haunku shrugged, a roll of his shoulders, and went back to the kitchen.
Chiikets still hated it in there. He couldn't stand in that room anymore. So
Haunku never asked him to. He came back and handed Chiikets a plate like he
always did and sat beside him on the couch so they could bitch about the day
they'd had. Anayo eventually joined them and wedged himself between them
instead of choosing the empty spot on either side. Sometimes Chiikets wondered
if Anayo was jealous of how close he and Haunku had gotten.
Chiikets also wondered if Anayo was jealous of himself or Haunku.
Three months in, Anayo pretty much moved in and started sleeping on the couch.
Some days he shared a bed with either of the real tenants but he complained
that they were always too cranky.
"I work," Said Haunku one morning, cup of coffee in between his large hands.
"And it's disconcerting when you roll over and someone, who wasn't there last
night, is laying there two inches from your face." Anayo opened his mouth to
argue but Haunku beat him to it. "Sleeping or not."
After that, Haunku started kicking Anayo out of his bed unless Anayo asked
permission.
"Prince or not," Said Haunku on a day Anayo wasn't home, "if he keeps this up,
I'm gonna kill him."
Chiikets shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time you killed somebody."
Haunku's expression was scathing. "Because you totally know every detail of
what happened."
"You did though, didn't you?"
"Screw you, Chiikets." And with that, Haunku left.
He didn't come back that night.
But Anayo did. And he chatted amiably until Chiikets was exhausted. Anayo
followed him to bed and laid down beside him, still nattering like Chiikets
wasn't trying to sleep.
"Look," Chiikets interrupted Anayo mid sentence, "Haunku will be back tomorrow.
There's no reason to freak out." Anayo gave him a funny look. "And I know
that's why you're not shutting up. But you can't worry about somebody as stupid
as him. He'll be fine."
Anayo was quiet at least long enough for Chiikets to be taken by sweet sleep.
When Chiikets woke, it was still dark outside. Anayo was straddling his hips.
"What are you doing?" Asked Chiikets, moving to push Anayo off and finding his
hands tied to the bed frame.
"I have a confession to make," Said Anayo. "I'm the reason your family is dead.
But I spared your brother." He smiled.
Chiikets scowled. "Stop fucking around. That's not funny."
Anayo held his gaze for a long time. Even though it was nearly as dark as pitch
in the room. "I'm not laughing."
When Haunku found him in the morning, they both just took each other in. The
silence deafened Chiikets. Because something had happened to the other man,
too.
"We're leaving then?" Haunku said simply. Like they were just going for a walk.
Like they weren't about to commit treason.
"Let's go."
They gathered up family heirlooms and photos, anything they found as keepsakes
before setting the house a flame.
Chiikets went to his Aunt's house to get his brother.
"Don't tell me where you're going or what you're doing," She said to him when
she saw that he had packed things up. "I always knew the day would come when
our blood would go against the law." She let him inside. "I just always thought
it would be your menace of a father." The family of Chiikets' mother hated his
father for some reason they had refused to discuss. His Aunt had only stayed
near so that she could help her sister out of the marriage when it turned sour.
When, not if.
He thanked her as much as he could before she ushered him out the back with
camouflaged cloaks.
"Take care of your brother," His Aunt said. "Don't let him die even if you do.
He's the only piece I have left of your mother."
He stifled the sting of those words. He knew he looked like their father while
Shen more resembled their mother. Of course their Aunt would have a preference.
"Where are we going?" Shen asked as Chiikets tugged him along by the hand.
Chiikets didn't know where they were going. But they weren't going to stay
there anymore.
Haunku met him by the Southern wall as instructed. They had both planned to
leave from this wall, having intimate knowledge of the village.
Haunku slid through the hole, the children following, Chiikets after. Kira,
Haunku's little sister, tried to run back through the wall before being grabbed
by Chiikets, who gently pulled her away. It was a fight to get her moving
through the woods.
They didn't stop until afternoon the next day, the children unable to continue
and both men exhausted.
"I'll keep watch," Said Haunku. "Sleep."
So Chiikets did. The kids curled up against him.
When he woke, there was no sign of the other man. "Where's your brother?" He
asked Kira. The little girl began to sob and shook her head. "Okay," He said.
"Okay. Please don't cry." He carefully sat up and called out for Haunku. There
was no reply. When he stood, the little girl clung to his leg and started to
cry harder.
Supremely at a loss and anxious, having never had to deal with a little girl
before, he tracked Haunku as far as he could before the trail went cold.
Feeling angry, betrayed, and abandoned, he called out for the other man again.
His voice echoed into the forest.
At least he was well rested, he supposed.
"What an ass," Said Shen.
Before he could reprimand his brother, Kira was on him, batting at him with
malice but no real intent. "How dare you talk about my brother that way!" He
tried to weakly fend her off, looking to Chiikets for help. "Don't ever say
that again! And when he comes back you're gonna tell him you're sorry!"
This was a lesson Shen would do well to remember.
And all of it was a lesson Chiikets knew he would do well to remember, too.
***** A Debt Unpaid *****
Chapter Summary
     Renjin's teen years are just as easy as everyone else's.
     Rozolyn receives an unexpected visitor.
     Xerxes' taste in women could probably be better.
It'd been a year. A full year since her happiness was stolen once again.
She knelt in front of the little alter she'd made and lit the incense sticks
with a snap of her fingers. She sent up a little prayer for Jezreel, unsure and
uncaring of just who (or what) she was praying to.
She had never been religious. But he was. So she decided she would do this for
his birthday and the anniversary of his death. Her breath hitched as blood
soaked memories began to play again, the feel of his chilled hand against her
cheek coming back as if she were still in that moment. She gagged on bile and a
mournful cry trying to shoot out of her throat.
Neither would she allow to exit her body. She was low on supplies and it would
be stupid to throw up her breakfast. Forcing herself to calm down, she leaned
her forehead against the shrine and breathed deeply, savoring the sweet incense
she had spent her last two weeks of quint on.
Jezreel probably would call that irresponsible. But dying and leaving a drug
addict with a fifteen year old wasn't responsible either.
Gods, when did she start blaming him for everything? It wasn't like he could
defend himself. And he had died protecting both Renjin and Triska, the drug
addict.
Renjin sighed and leaned back on her haunches, hands bracing her position.
She had no money now. Only a few more days of food. And a week's worth of
water. She needed to figure out what she was going to do.
She could live off the land. But this meant Option One: Joining a group (Which
she couldn't bear to do right now) or competing with not only lone members of
her species, but groups of them. She may have been cunning and strong, but
Chiikets had taught her she wasn't infallible.
Option Two was, Join a Human settlement. But Humans were such pathetic
creatures. They also smelled funny. Not terrible, just funny. The irony was
that in all their short comings, they were adept at knowing when someone wasn't
one of them.
She wished for a bustling city like the one she spent her childhood in. If the
Humans had that, she could come and go with only a few stray glances. Humans
would think that she was just another Human, albeit a queer one.
But there wasn't one. And, perhaps, never would be. The poor creatures were
ransacked and slaughtered if a neighboring Clan thought they were
overpopulating the area. And while many Clans were small, they loved their
Territories. Which was another pressing issue for Renjin. Living in a male's
Territory meant she would be obligated to bear his offspring. And she really
would rather die than copulate with a filthy male, handsome with good genes be
damned.
Jezreel had been the only male she had trusted and allowed near her.
Living in a female's Territory meant death.
She was pretty much dead no matter what, it seemed.
Wonderful.
Something shuffled behind her and she spun, knife in hand to deflect a squat
little creature. It skidded backwards and landed near the wall of the small
hut.
Letting out a deep growl and lifting its head, gleaming eyes locked on to her
form. It's hairless body shifted to scaly feet and it smiled in a way that made
Renjin freeze in fear.
Panic seized her heart, gripped it with chill. The same things that killed
Jezreel were going to get her, too.
It darted towards her on all fours, mouth ajar like a snake but full of teeth.
She rolled at the last minute, dodging the creature but barely. Its teeth
snagged and tore off a piece of her shirt, voraciously swallowing the fabric.
The candle and incense on Jezreel's shrine had been knocked over, setting fire
to Renjin's living space.
She spent a half moment wondering if her life would always be like this before
grabbing her satchel, Jezreel's gift to her for her birthday (She practically
lived out of the thing just in case something like this were to happen), and
running. But damn everything, it was still snowing. More of the little
creatures appeared from behind the hut and the trees. Human eyes gleaming with
hunger. These things were not Human. The bright side was Renjin had expected a
pack of hungry mouths because they never roamed solo.
They weren't as fast as Renjin, she knew they didn't have to be. She swerved
toward the lake. It was frozen over and she went to the very center before
looking back.
The creatures growled and paced the bank. Watching her with hunger and a
burning intensity unlike any other Renjin had encountered.
Relief loosened the tenseness in her shoulders she didn't know was there.
She dropped her satchel and laughed. Maybe she'd live. Maybe everything would
be alright after all.
Until one of the creatures stepped out onto the ice, the others following.
Renjin took a step back, ignoring the crackling sound, thinking that maybe this
was what it sounded like to be so scared your mind was lost.
The deceptively weak ice under her feet gave in and she only managed a gasp.
The water was a shock but she shifted away from the newly formed hole in the
ice as the stupid ones of the pack tried to grab her from the water.
Unnaturally long fingers tangled in her blood colored hair and she swam hard as
the hand yanked. It let go, probably having almost been pulled in with her.
She waited, fighting the desperate need for air. Finally, she had no choice but
to surface.
The air was cold and Renjin wanted to cry at the realization that she was going
to freeze to death.
She couldn't really be too upset, though, because the creatures were back.
Splashing them with cold water and realizing this wouldn't deter them, she went
under once more.
This time when she went to surface, the hole was frozen over.
Her lungs were screaming. She pounded uselessly against the ice. It was
pointless. At least I'll be with Jezreel, She thought as her body spasmed and
her world grew dark. That'll be okay.
xXx
She's surprised when a man with a large bundle enters her cozy hut.
White wolves watch him, but only with curiosity.
She turns her attention back to darning socks and finishing a quilt she has
been working on since the summer while he settles himself and his bundle by the
fire. The bundle is wrapped in a quilt. Probably made by a Grandmother in the
family line somewhere. It's quite nice.
"Xerxes," He says after a few minutes. His hair has ice crystals hanging from
the ends. She wonders what he was doing. If his lips are blue. Does he have
hypothermia?
"It's my name," He says.
Oh. "Rozolyn," She says. He nudges his bundle closer to the fire and cuddles
against it. Rozolyn wonders why she always gets the weird house guests.
"Are you hungry?" Rozolyn can think of a few chores he can do to pay her back.
"Yes, thank you," He says, well aware he'll be in her debt. While she makes
stew, he stays in the same place. Which Rozolyn is fine with. It's easier to
keep an eye on him.
When she brings him a bowl full of steaming broth, he slowly peels back the
quilt. Red hair sticks to the fabric but he slides a hand under the woman's
neck, slowly sitting her up. Her lips are vivid blue but there's color
returning to her skin.
Xerxes alternates between tipping the broth into her mouth and stroking her
throat with gentleness.
"There's no point in feeding someone who won't appreciate it," Rozolyn tells
him. "She's always been ungrateful."
"Well," Replies Xerxes. "Maybe one day, I'll meet her again and she can tell me
how ungrateful she is that I revived her."
"You're not going to stay?" Rozolyn resumes sitting in her cushioned chair,
working intently on her quilt.
"No. She will doubt that I was good to her without expecting gain."
"Renjin expects the worst in everyone," Says Rozolyn. "She probably will always
think you were working some angle."
"Your sister must be a tough nut."
"My sister is stubborn. That's all there really is."
Xerxes strokes Renjin's hair for a few long moments. "If she dies," He makes
eye contact with Rozolyn for the first time in an hour. His eyes are stormy
grey. Rozolyn thinks they're pretty. "I will kill you."
Rozolyn pouts, not quite the reaction Xerxes was going for. "No need to get all
bent out of shape." She sips what Xerxes thinks is probably tea. "Why undo what
you've altrustically done?"
His lips twist. Rozolyn, as young as she is, knows he's searching her face for
guile. Tokos are a conniving people after all.
They have tea while he tries to put more warmth into Renjin.
"You know she hates men, right?" Says Rozolyn. "This whole thinking she'll
thank you is probably a pipe dream."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." Rozolyn's silence isn't
condescending but it still irritates him. "So, if you two are sisters," He
says, "why don't you travel together?"
Rozolyn laughs. "She has some serious bi-polar. She will save my life and then
threaten to end it." She glances at Renjin. "I couldn't handle the insanity,
she couldn't handle the guilt."
Xerxes wonders if the older sister will balance out with age.
"I guess you're a deserter, huh?" Asks Rozolyn. "You look like one."
He frowns. "Aren't we all?"
Rozolyn shakes her head. "Not all."
Xerxes takes Rozolyn's to-do list, does every request, then prepares to leave.
He stops to kneel down and kiss Renjin on the forehead. Her lips are no longer
blue.
"Tell her not to sell that quilt," He calls over his broad shoulder. "My great,
great Grandmother made that. And my Mother will crawl out of the grave and skin
me if anything happens to it."
He probably didn't bury his mother, thinks Rozolyn as she watches him duck out
of her hut. He's tall as hell.
Yes, he'd probably make a suitable husband for Renjin. Rozolyn's gaze slides
back to her unconscious sister.
It was a common practice for a man to either leave a woman for dead or rescue
the woman and nurse her back to health just enough, and then marry her if she
lived. Rozolyn thought those kinds of men to be barbaric. But she preferred
Humans so her opinion on the subject mattered very little.
xXx
"You are an idiot," Says Renjin when she comes to. "You should have killed me
in my sleep."
"Why?" Asks Rozolyn, knowing full well why and darning yet another pair of
socks.
"Less rivalry," Says Renjin. "You need to get the strong blood out of the way
so you can live another day and get stronger."
"You aren't going to kill me today," Rozolyn snips. "Besides, I made a deal
with someone who would be quite angry if I did such a thing."
"That man," Says Renjin. "Where did he go??"
"He's long gone. The snow has already covered his tracks."
Renjin sinks back into the quilt. "Does he really think I'm going to believe
that Good Samaritan act?"
"I see you've been reading human literature. I'm impressed." Rozolyn sorely had
doubted Renjin being literate at all, let alone able to read Human scrawl. "Did
you know he pulled you out of the middle of a lake? Any sane person would have
left you there."
Renjin is silent for the rest of the night.
xXx
"I'm leaving," Renjin tells Rozolyn.
"Don't die." Is the only reply she receives. She's not really all that bothered
by her sister's nonchalance. Maybe she should be. But Rozolyn is tired and has
cleaning to do.
The snow has stopped. And Renjin is still in a dilemma. The old quilt lays
heavy in her bag, though. A constant reminder of a debt unpaid. Renjin hates
it.
So she decides it's time to find Xerxes.
***** Obedience *****
Chapter Summary
     Sorajin is reluctant to carry out his instructions. Kieve is willing
     to be of use. And Chante is a little too vague.
     The bright side? It gives Renjin plenty of material to use later.
"I'm not doing this."
"And I," Renjin slams a knife against the light armour across his chest hard
enough to knock the breath out of him, "Am not asking."
"You can't make me do this." He accepts the knife and she turns back to her
desk. He could run her through. But he won't for the same reason he knows he
won't win this argument. "It's wrong."
Her head swivels towards him, eyes glowing in the low light. "What did I tell
you when I gave you your second life?"
"I know-"
She spins around and towers over him, eyes narrowed. "Say it."
He would never admit to another Human, other than Sanchu maybe, that a woman
scared him. In his defense, Renjin was violence embodied and he'd seen her do
some pretty heinous things. "I belong to you."
"In which ways?"
"Mind, body, and soul."
"Good." Renjin turns back to her work. "Go and do as I bid."
Sorajin chews the inside of his lip. "I'm also your heir. The one you will hand
off the Clan to when you die."
She nods, this is what she had told him during training many a time. He might
even be expected to kill her when he was ready to lead. He may not have liked
Renjin, but he really didn't want to kill her. "Shouldn't I be allowed to help
make decisions?"
"Not this one. This is a lesson you must learn as early as possible." Her
fingers glide along a scroll.
"Isn't there another way?"
She doesn't so much as glance at him. "Get out, Sorajin."
And with that he turns and leaves the Temple. Servants cower when they see his
thunderous countenance.
A man falls in line behind him, to his right. "You couldn't convince her, huh?"
Sorajin throws the knife in his direction. The man catches it a few inches from
his throat. "Easy. I'm not the one you wanna tear your little dull teeth into."
Sorajin says nothing, merely pushes past the throng of people trying to speak
with him. The man stops to apologize to a few of the slighted people.
"Kieve!" Sorajin all but barks.
The man makes an apologetic gesture before catching up with the younger man.
"My Lord," Tact, Kieve reminds himself, Tact. "The people appreciate a kind
response to their approach. A little goes a long way." Sorajin ignores him. It
isn't as though he's usually unkind to the people. And many of the Clan have to
take a beating before they have any sort of respect. Kieve sighs with glance
back to the confounded people. The guards scramble to open the gates before
Sorajin barks at them, too. He passes silently. Kieve gives the women
apologetic glances.
"My Lord," Kieve comes closer, staying a foot away. "Aren't you taking your
anger out on the wrong people?"
"They have served Renjin. They can handle a day of temper from me."
Kieve clatters his tongue piercing against his teeth. Which he knows Sorajin
can hear. He also knows Sorajin is ignoring.
The trek through the woods becomes gradually more enjoyable. The sun on Kieve's
skin and the sweet smell of the air and the sounds of the animals bring a
pleasurable distraction from what's to come.
He clatters his barbell against his teeth again, lips parting to let the sound
carry. Sorajin spares him a glance, but no more than that.
They divert down an animal trail that they had used for hunting last winter.
Sorajin twirls his own knife in his leather- clad hand anxiously.
Kieve wants to touch him, lay a hand on his shoulder and tell him that
everything will be fine.
But he knows that Sorajin doesn't want him to cross the barrier between them.
And really doesn't want to be told that everything will be fine. Under
different circumstances, Sorajin would be more than willing to ignore his
status and Kieve's. But today is not a day of pleasure and closeness.
So Kieve follows in silence, keeping no less than a foot between them.
Sometimes more depending on Sorajin's backward glances.
And then they come to a particularly large tree - Kieve thinks the trunk is
probably as wide as his armspan from fingertip to fingertip. How long would it
take to cut it down? - and the source of Sorajin's negative mood.
A man is caught in one of their traps. It winds up his left leg and sinks sharp
teeth into his thigh. A wrong move will bleed him out. A wrong wire cut will
amputate.
This man is a lot older than Kieve. Older than Renjin. It's a little odd for a
man who knows all the tricks (And a man his age should know all the tricks.) to
be caught in their snare.
Sorajin stands over the man. "Chante?"
The man huffs out a laugh that blows his hair out of his face. "It has been
awhile. I'm a little insulted that Renjin hasn't come to finish me personally."
"You ought'nt be," Says Kieve. "Sorajin's disposal of you will be a lot more
pleasant."
"I might've been able to talk my way out of disposal if she'd come." Chante
shifts carefully. Laying in the same spot and position for a day had to be
uncomfortable. Sorajin hands him a water skin and helps him get into position
to drink from it. Kieve is always surprised at Sorajin's empathy, regardless
that he's been serving Sorajin for almost two years.
Sorajin removes Chante's weapon from his back, a ninjato. Chante unfastens the
strap across his chest that holds the sheath.
"I hope this isn't an heirloom," Says Sorajin. Fastening the sheath across his
own back and sliding the weapon into its place.
"That one is with my son."
Sorajin's shoulders drop. Kieve frowns. Chante's son was acquaintances with
Sorajin. They'd gotten along quite well. And Kieve had thought that in a few
more years, they'd have a strong bond in friendship.
But this ideal was all for naught, it seemed. Kieve knew Sorajin could kill
Chante no more than he could let him live.
So, Kieve takes it upon himself.
A stumble and fall cuts the right wires, setting Chante free. The older man's
fist shoots up faster than Kieve can blink, and catches Sorajin in the jaw.
"Tell Renjin to meet me in the Old Tower when the moon is at her zenith." And
then he's gone. Sorajin is clutching his slowly healing, probably broken, jaw.
Kieve kneels, head bowed, hands in his lap.
When Sorajin's pain has subsided enough that he can stand, he moves reluctantly
to stand over Kieve. "We both know you acted where I couldn't," His fingers run
through Kieve's dark purple hair. And he wishes Sorajin's hands were bare. "And
I am grateful for that." Kieve presses into his hand, knows what's coming. "But
Renjin will expect punishment for what I will have to tell her was
disobedience." He didn't tell Kieve to stay put. But Kieve knew Renjin's
orders.
A gentle tug on Kieve's hair tilts his head up, to make eye contact with his
master, then back, to bare his throat.
The backhand across Kieve's face more startles than hurts. Sorajin's hand
wrapped in his shirt keeps him from toppling backwards or to either side. He
lets go when Kieve finds his balance.
"Hold," Says Sorajin. Kieve's hands go behind his back, his head comes forward
from the tilt it'd been instructed into previously. He's thankful because last
time he'd been told to stay in that position, his neck ached for two days.
Sorajin's hand comes down again, the force turning his head. This time, there's
pain. But he never goes past a backhand. Never punches Kieve with anything
other than playfulness. He's kicked in the thigh. Hard enough to leave a nasty
bruise. His shoulders are smacked hard with the flat of a blade. He wonders if
the bruising will keep him from being flogged.
Sorajin's boot collides with his stomach. He doubles over but remembers to keep
his hands in place. Sorajin's shin supports him, keeps him from falling face
down into the dirt. Then its shifting him back onto his haunches. The reprieve
is over.
There's heat when Sorajin's hand comes down. He grunts when he's knocked in the
gut again but holds himself upright. The blows are painful but lack any real
ferocity.
And then Sorajin is on his knees, too. Significantly shorter and smaller than
Kieve. He wants to laugh because they are a strange pair.
Sorajin's gloves are off now, hands tangling in his hair. Placing butterfly
kisses over the bruising on Kieve's cheekbones. Kieve waits. Because even if
Sorajin has forgotten, he hasn't. And the boy - Because that's what he is,
really - is baffled for a moment before realization dawns on him.
"Release."
Kieve's hands go to Sorajin's waist, drawing slow circles.
Sorajin, having been raised by humans until his eleventh winter, wants to love
Kieve, but really knows he shouldn't. His mouth is so light when it brushes
Kieve's, the man is barely aware of it. But he doesn't dare pursue any more
than what Sorajin gives.
Besides, this is an apology. Not unvoiced desire.
xXx
Renjin takes in Kieve's bruising with some amount of pleasure. But she also
knows what it means.
"I brought you out of that filthy brothel and into our home, under the hands of
a good master. The least you can do is help your master accomplish his tasks."
Ungrateful, the tone of her voice says. "Ten lashes," She tells Sorajin before
dismissing the both of them. The bruises don't get Kieve out of a flogging. But
they lessen it.
xXx
Renjin watches with satisfaction as Sorajin tends to Kieve. Their relationship
is a complicated one, but they're working it out. "I'm leaving," She tells
Sorajin.
His hands go still. "Good luck," He tells her.
Takka is waiting down the hall, offering privacy in case Kieve is undressed. He
isn't, but it's pointless to call her over for a brief exchange.
Down the hall and to the right, Sanchu waits with a few others. Sorajin should
have come as well but this is an opportunity to build on the relation the two
boys have.
Sorajin had been extremely reluctant to take part in any of it, as he usually
was. She'd made a deal with him that Kieve would be freed when Sorajin was
engaged. She hadn't liked it, but it made him cooperate. Kieve was unaware of
his own fate.
Meeting Chante at the Old Tower is so nostalgic it makes her stomach turn. He
isn't alone but he didn't bring the entire Pack either.
They share a look, then send their people away at the same time. Chante is
bigger than she is, but he's still lacking a weapon.
"What do you want?" She asks. The screaming cicadas make her strain to hear
anything outside the Tower.
He strides toward her. He doesn't run, that'll attract the attention of the
group, but he moves fast enough that Renjin struggles not to perceive it as a
threat when the once-leader is standing over her. "Don't trust Haunku."
Renjin stares at him. "What are you-"
"I can't say anything else about that. But whatever he does, whatever he says,
don't trust him."
Renjin's eyebrows draw together. Isn't it common enough knowledge that she
doesn't trust people? Apparently not. "Anything else?" If he's telling the
truth, he's just committed a betrayal to his leader. And Haunku is no kinder
than Renjin. But why would their Clan approach Renjin? What would they have to
gain?
Chante stares out the window of the Tower. It has no glass. The shutters are
worn away and decrepit. "Have you seen the bruises on Itan?"
Yes, she had. And Rozolyn insisted they were from training. Renjin sorely
doubted it.
"Something needs to be done. His sister broke her wrist last week." The way he
says it means he doesn't think it was an accident.
"I will," Will what? Renjin thinks. What can she do to figure out if suspicions
are true? "I will see what I can turn up."
"Please do so before someone dies. I've already been told that I have no
business poking my nose around."
By Rozolyn's lover, Renjin is sure. She hates that slimy bastard.
"Immediately," She says.
Chante shoots out the window like the force of nature he probably is. Renjin's
descent down the stairs is much slower.
It gives her time to mull over the things she has to do. When asked, she gives
them Chante's cryptic, useless warning and tells Sanchu that Sorajin is going
to Rozolyn's Territory for a visit. It's a move that could put him in
significant danger. Which will be good for him. Even after four years, he's
much too soft. And she owes it to her heir to toughen him up.
And when he returned, she would send him to see his blood family. Yes, that
would be a nice reimbursement indeed. The more information he could gather, the
longer he would get to stay.
And just maybe, he could tell Renjin why the hell Rozolyn was always knitting.
***** Quilts Are Easier *****
Chapter Summary
     Chiikets convinces Rozolyn to assist him in a plan.
He's tall, she notices. And while she likes the way tall men look, she is
attracted to short men.
She takes in his scarred, broad shoulders and wonders how hard it would be to
knit him a sweater.
Quilts were easier.
If she did that, he'd surely survive the winter.
Although, by the looks of him, he'd probably survive regardless.
She wishes she could make a quilt like the one Xerxes lent Renjin.
The tall man, all lean lines and sharp angles - probably hasn't been a boy for
awhile, is watching her, lips pressed together at one side by his teeth. He's
probably thinking about whether or not he should kill her.
And why not? She's a Toko in his territory.
Maybe she should offer him tea. He'd probably suspect poisons or drugs.
Yes, she should make tea.
She supposes she could claim to have an upper hand on Anayo so Chiikets would
let her live and she could get away....
But that would require effort and lies. And Rozolyn has no intention of
applying useless effort.
Futility was a time waster.
Her wolves sit around her in silence, ears flat against their heads. Hungry but
unsure of their Mistress. Jillian, the only dog sits at her feet.
"I wanted to speak with you about Nachte."
Well, that was a surprise. She stands and sets a water laden kettle over the
fireplace. "He's dead. Has been for some time."
"But he knew the way into Kenjin's harbor." The shrug his shoulders rise into
draws attention to the tattoo across his chest under his collarbone. It's
purple and black, twisting like the barbed wire she once got caught in. "I
think you do, too."
Rozolyn wonders what he's going to do with a boat. He isn't going to leave, she
knows that pattern weaved on his skin has marked him. It would be cowardly to
leave without killing Kenjin...
Aside from that, nearly everyone is bound to this speck of dirt by the need to
get even. Except for the Humans. They are largely just afraid and unwilling to
leave for some reason Rozolyn still can't fathom. She wonders where Haven is
right now. She strokes Jillian's fur.
"I could probably show you." The kettle begins its squealing. Chiikets is the
one to get it and pour the water onto the filter with the tea leaves in it. He
adjusts his deep purple leather gloves while he waits for the tea to finish
settling into the jar. Rozolyn really knows he's fidgeting. It's careful and
calculated, but she has learned to see through these things.
"You should really cover your throat," He says after the silence has stretched
to the point that most people would be uncomfortable.
Rozolyn is mildly aware of it. "Surely it isn't that much of a distraction to
you."
His hands clench for a moment then release.
"You should go without your handcoverings some time. It's quite freeing." She
pours him a cup of tea from the jar.
He momentarily closes his eyes and bows his head, a polite nod is the way these
men give thanks. Verbal gratitude is a weakness.
"Anyway," Rozolyn lets out a gusty sigh. "I can get into the harbor. And I can
get you in the harbor. But first, I want to know why."
xXx
Rozolyn knows something is wrong the moment she steps outside of her modest
cottage and draws up her hood. Jillian whines behind her. But she made a
commitment and really hates the trouble caused when she doesn't keep her end of
the deal.
And Chiikets was trouble indeed.
Kira and Luca wouldn't be back until tomorrow and the day after.
A note left on the kitchen counter should be enough.
She is quick to the fields that the live stock stay in. "Kill." She tells
Monavere, the biggest wolf in the Pack. He jumps to his paws and begins his
rounds, faster more aggressive than before.
Rozolyn watches him go. Jillian is rapt on him as well. "You two should have
puppies." She tells Jillian, the dog's ears flatten against her skull. "Okay,
okay," Says the red-haired woman, turning North.
xXx
Rozolyn thinks agreeing to meet Chiikets at the abandoned laboratory is a bad
idea. But it's easier than trying to negotiate. She's seen the damage he was
capable of doing.
She's able to catch his scent, and two others in the breeze and faces, but not
names, come to mind. Jillian whines again.
Hefting Jillian awkwardly under her arm, she begins the precarious work of
climbing into the old building. Built by the Humans before Kenjin was even
born. Before the Old Ones existed.
The Humans that lived on the island were either the descendants of survivors of
the massacre or survivors of plane crashes and ship wrecks.
Like Haven.
The sun casts shadows around the lifeless building. Chiikets stands in the
center of the room. Strange statues are lined up in rows. around him, but
spaced so one could walk between some of them. She wonders why the Humans put
up so many of these things.
Perhaps in worship of some primitive god?
Beside Chiikets stands a stout man with blonde hair and light blue eyes and a
woman with dark blue hair and grey undertones to her skin.
"It's not nice to invite people to a private party." Says Rozolyn, unsure if
this is an ambush.
The blonde steps forward. "It's only rude if the guests don't bring anything."
He says. His voice is pitched higher than Chiikets'. Kajmir, his name appears
in her head finally.
Chiikets' Second.
The woman, she doesn't know.
"And did you bring something?"
He smirks. "That I did."
So she shrugs. Because she's either about to be killed brutally or their scheme
is going to kill someone else brutally.
Chiikets leads the way out of the laboratory. Then it's Rozolyn's turn.
Getting in will be harder with three extra people. The shade of night is a good
thing. But it makes it harder for Rozolyn to find the right overgrown trail.
When they get there, Jillian moves to the very front of the fences and starts
barking like mad. The guards are distracted so they can slip past in the
shadows.
Chiikets nods to the woman, introduced as Kiren, and Kajmir. They begin setting
boats aflame one after another in the massive shipyard. Jillian comes running
and there are sounds, like something exploding over and over again. Something
strikes Kiren, only a graze on her upper arm.
They race to the largest ship they can find. It takes all four of them to raise
the mast and weigh the anchor.
Kajmir hands out the liquor then goes back to what he's been assigned. Chiikets
and Rozolyn watch as the ship moves away from land.
He smiles. "I guess I owe you, now." All but a few ships are burning. He turns
and leans his firm buttocks -Oh yes. Rozolyn has been looking. Even if he's not
her type- against the bow of the ship. "It's not everyday I willingly work with
a Toko." He takes a sip of the beverage in his hand. "Now Kenjin can't hit us
hard from the sea." There's another one of those loud bangs in the distance.
And Chiikets crumples to the deck like paper.
***** Shaken. But Not Stirred *****
Chapter Summary
     Serene, Sorajin's mother, and Frost, Sorajin's brother, are protected
     by a man who claims to owe a debt.
     And the man, Chante, is an opportunist.
Chapter Notes
     Well, this didn't go the way I thought it would...
It's been two weeks since her eldest son visited her.
He told her about the way things were and who he served and his life. And while
she was ashamed that he was sexually attracted to a man, she was glad to see
him.
But he wasn't allowed to tell anyone he was homosexual.
Not that he had wanted to. He had insisted that he didn't like men. Just Kieve.
And that was because they had spent almost three years through thick and thin
and Kieve was grateful to have been rescued from a hell hole.
And, Serene knew, being grateful changed how people viewed one another.
The young man in question barely spoke in their tongue. Quiet and polite, he
was anxious to show he was worthy of approval.
"Your father would never have tolerated you being intimate with another man,"
She had told him.
He had smiled sadly and said, "I know."
They had told Frost, her younger son, that he was a close friend. She didn't
want him thinking sex with men was acceptable. Even if this new man with her
son's face did.
The needle in her hand slips, pricking her finger. She gives it a reprimanding
glance and stands, stretching her legs and deciding to cook. Frost would be
home with the hunting party soon.
The Full-Bloods that had claimed the territory they lived in had started making
the wildlife scarce.
Which meant more time hunting and more time farming. Starvation was steadily
becoming a more than likely prospect.
She could turn to her son. But she's afraid of the backlash from the ruthless,
violent demoness that had caged him.
Entering the kitchen, she hears them.
The old War Bells in the distance. Terror grips her heart with the strength of
a Skin-Walker.
She races out of her home just as everyone is darting to and fro, as panicked
as she is, the sound of her bare feet hitting the cobblestone is drowned out by
horses and other people calling for their loved ones. Men call for their troops
and for families to go this way or that.
But Serene isn't going to lose another son.
"Frost!" Her voice carries over the crowds, but just barely. People give her
passing glances as they rush about. "Frost!"
A guard with big hands and warm eyes lightly clasps her shoulder. "Serene, you
need to go up to the safe house."
Any other day, she would have listened. "My son is out there, Ether."
He removes his helmet to give her a resolute but empathetic look. "Orders are
orders."
"Mom?" Frost appears out of thin air. Blue eyes gleaming with concern. "What's
happening, Sir?"
"They've spotted a male from the Pride."
"It's just one?" Asks Frost. "Why are we worrying?"
Ether glances at Serene. "Because they never travel with less than three
members."
"You think they'll overtake us?"
"It's possible."
The silence is deafening. Not because the news of their mortality is
frightening. But because the streets are empty and something is coming.
Serene pulls her son against her breast and Ether draws his sword.
Instead of a beast, there is a man, hands in his pockets, looking only mildly
interested in his surroundings.
He looks different than the hungry animals that last besieged their village. He
looks human.
She still wants to kill him.
His eyes are dark and cunning, underlined by the marks under his eyes. "I come
bearing a warning."
Ether doesn't move.
The man pulls a large piece of parchment from his pocket and sticks it to a
door with a knife. "You have three days before your town is razed to the
ground."
Frost wriggles free of Serene. "We won't leave, you bastard! We'll kill every
last one of you!"
The man-beast looks up to the rooftops, men are waiting with their bows and
arrows.
His gaze turns back to Frost. "I didn't have to warn you." Then to everyone
else. "They're planning to come in through that Western wall you've been
slacking on."
Ether's knuckles grow white. "You're setting us up for a trap."
The Full-Blood's expression grows bored. "I don't care about you people. I'm
only here to settle a debt." He points past Ether, to Serene. His knuckles are
bony. "Be ready to leave if things go badly."
"Get out!" Ether takes a step forward, swipes his sword through the air.
The man is unfazed. "I could kill you right now." He appears like lightning
before Ether, challenging and unafraid. "But I won't."
And then he's gone.
xXx
So Serene packs. Breathing deep the smell of her Husband's cologne for
strength. Frost helps.
"You're going to believe that animal?" Asks Ether, washing the dishes after
dinner.
"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst," Says Serene.
Putting the last dish on the rack, Ether frowns. "Where will you go?"
"South, if we can. I've heard there are some friendly Beast-people there."
Ether looks at her for a long time before moving to stand within a foot of her.
"This is a trap."
"Maybe. But we're going to die either way, right?"
His eyes search hers for a long time. And then he's pressing his lips against
hers. A gentle brushing of mouths. "I won't let anything happen to you."
Her arms go around his neck. "Stay the night?"
He carefully pulls away. "After we win. I have to be with the men first thing
in the morning. And that's not where I want to be my first night with you."
She's disappointed but still smiles. "Alright."
That night she dreams of a skilled tongue and large hands. The orgasm she has,
wakes her and she wonders how she got out of her clothes.
In the morn, she discovers a message on her bathroom mirror: Wait for me.
This is the second time a non-human has infiltrated her home. She cries in
response to the helplessness and anger she feels.
She wishes her husband was still alive. She misses the safety and the love his
embrace provided.
xXx
A few days pass without incident. People start to think this whole thing was a
hoax.
Until they appear.
She's conversing with the baker when it happens.
The man from before stands outside the glass doors, waiting, her bags slung
over his mile long shoulders. Frost is there, too. Scowling and ranting. He's
more like Serene than he is Benevolence.
The war bells ring loud and clear, now.
When she stands before this man, he looks her up and down. And she knows it was
him. He infiltrated her home. He undressed her. He-
"We should leave," His voice is thick with accent. And it becomes a race to get
out before the others get to them.
There's blood everywhere when they get to the gates, men and beasts alike lay
dead. The man doesn't spare more than a glance to the humans, casually steps
over his own kind.
It dawns slow, but Serene realizes that there's no way he can be this apathetic
towards those like him. "This isn't your Clan."
"No, in fact. It's a rival Clan. So killing them is doing us a favor."
"But we'll only diminish their numbers."
He pushes the gate open with his free hand. Serene realizes just how easy it
would be for him to kill them. "It's enough for us-" His eye lashes flutter,
mouth parting, eyebrows drawing together. Serene's eyes are drawn downward to a
blade, gleaming with blood, jutting out of the man's middle. "How did I not see
you?" He murmurs.
Ether withdraws the sword and grabs Serene by the arm. "Quickly, while he's
stunned."
Serene digs her feet in. "He has Ben's things."
Ether turns then, to the scowling male. "Hand them over."
"You could say please." He doesn't even act like he's in serious pain and
danger of bleeding out. He brushes past Ether when the other man just scowls,
nearly knocking him over. "Make me."
Serene has no choice but to follow the man with Benevolence's things, all she
has left of him other than her sons. Other than Frost, who follows his mother.
Ether stands torn between the village and following them.
Serene glances back until she can't see him through the brush anymore.
"Where are we going?" Frost isn't asking, he's demanding.
The man pauses before grabbing a struggling Frost and an anxious Serene,
pulling them under his frame as he ducks to the ground. "Away." Is all he says.
Serene can smell the rich tang of blood on him. There's an undertone of
something else, reminiscent of smoke. People run past him, shouting something.
He shouts back but doesn't move until they've past.
Then he gets up, hoisting them with him and Ether appears, scowling and bloody.
Smoke billows into the sky.
"Why did you save us?" Asks Frost.
"Like I said, I owe a debt."
xXx
When they arrive at the new village, the man is greeted with open hostility.
The people are wary of Ether and Serene, but charmed by Frost.
The man pays for them to have a house and food for two weeks.
Serene stops him at the gate when he goes to leave. "Who are you? And who did
you owe a debt to?"
The man crowds her against the wall, out of the sight of the villagers. He
leaves her enough space to say no to his next stunt. He can overpower her but
he doesn't.
Serene should say no. She should bat him away. But the bandages across his
midsection are testament that he didn't have to do this.
Like Kieve, she feels grateful.
"Chante," He says. The doctor had wanted to kill him when they saw the tattoo
across his lower back. He either had been or still was the leader of the Pride.
He was seen as twice the menace he was before.
His mouth doesn't demand. It asks. His tongue seeks hers. Her hands trail over
steel-like muscle and scarred skin. He sinks into her, and she arches against
him, gasping and clutching.
When it's over, he straightens out her ruffled clothes.
"Will you be back?" She asks.
His expression is mildly guilty when he replies. "Probably not."
"And if I end up pregnant?"
This gives him pause. "If that is so, send for me immediately."
The territory he points her to is not what she expected. "The person I owed a
debt to was your son." And then he's gone.
Serene is left feeling like ice water was dumped over her sensitive flesh. She,
feeling numb, goes home and bathes, hoping to wash away everything.
The chances of bearing a non-human's child is so low, Serene doesn't know why
she bothered to ask. Ether eventually joins her, squeezing his broad body into
tub with her slim form. "I feel remorse," He says. "Eveybody is dead and we get
to start fresh."
Serene isn't sure how she feels about it. But she knows fresh isn't an option.
Not for Serene.
***** Invitation *****
Chapter Summary
     Sho is given an invitation he thinks he better turn down.
Sho hisses as he's thrown down for the fifth time. The other man holds him down
into the mud and Sho is beyond furious.
They should have been evenly matched. But that stupid blond kept dodging into
their battle and out again to his own. He struggles vainly against the man
before coming to terms with the fact that he's going to have to hurt himself if
he wants to get anything done. His forehead collides with the other man's nose.
The loosened grip lets him maneuver enough to flip them over.
Bright blue eyes stare into his own. One of them isn't going to come out of
this alive. And Sho knows it has to be him. His mother is fighting hard against
the leader of the enemy, a slim man packing power. And rain.
Sho hates rain almost as much as he hates Bordeaux.
The man sinks his teeth into Sho's wrist. He clenches his teeth and punches his
assailant. "Why don't you just die?" He draws a dagger from his waistband and
makes a plunge for the heart.
The man grips the dagger over Sho's hands, struggling against him to keep the
knife from finding a home in his chest. He has the audacity to smirk up at Sho.
"Sticks an' stones."
"Human reference," Calls the blond as he hip throws Sho's distantly-related
Cousin. "I call foul."
The red head underneath him laughs. "Shut the hell up, Sech."
For a man about to die, he's way too happy. Sho puts more weight onto the
blade. It descends another inch. The man sucks in a breath through clenched
teeth. Sech moves to play defense again but some of Sho's Clan members
intercept him.
Sho smiles down at the other man. "When we're done, I'm going to see if the
rumours about your friend are true."
The red head underneath him scowls, freckles across his face accentuating the
expression. "An' what rumours would those be?"
"That he sold himself to a brothel to get some cock."
The knife presses another inch. "Leave 'im alone."
"He's certainly pretty. Takes care of himself like a woman. Aways sticks close
to you." Sho's voice trails. "Chikotsu, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he
was getting some from you."
Chikotsu bares his teeth, wriggles slightly. "What can I say? I'm the epitome
of companionship." Then the knife falls. Chikotsu uses all his might to
redirect it but what Sho lacks in strength, he makes up for in speed.
Chikotsu gasps as the knife sinks into his shoulder. Moans as Sho rips it out
mercilessly. There's a call to retreat but Sech is overwhelmed by the
opposition and Chikotsu is pinned. Sho rears back slightly, about to finish him
off. And Chikotsu laughs. Laughs so hard his split lip bleeds worse.
And Sho is thrown off. "What? What's so funny?"
"You're about ta hate yourself."
This gives Sho pause. Confusion colors his features. And then Chikotsu punches
him in the dick.
Chikotsu lets him live and from under the searing pain, Sho watches him come to
Sech's rescue.
And then Sech stands over him, hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "You think
I'm pretty, huh?"
The pain is a dull throb. "Did you sell yourself to a brothel?"
Chikotsu looks aggravated. Like he might kill Sho after all. Sech rolls his
eyes. "Kiss a guy more than once in public and everybody thinks you're a slut."
The blond crouches to be level with him, pinches his cheek with long, thin
fingers. "Why'd you ask? Wanna try me on, little cub?"
"Sech." Chikotsu's tone is a warning. "We need ta go."
"Don't be jealous." Sech releases Sho's aching cheek. "You think he's eye
candy, too."
"I don't like men," Says Sho. "I was talking shit."
Sech's gaze becomes terrifying then. His eyes see him. But they also see
through him. And then he turns to Chikotsu, shrugging. "I guess you got all
upset for nothing."
Chikotsu takes the opportunity to thrust his foot into Sho's ribs when he least
expects it, leaving him clutching his side and trying to catch his breath.
Sech stands. "I think you'll change your mind one day..."
When his mother finds him, she's angry at the broken bones and the failed
murder of her rival's newest battle duo. But she's more worried about her own.
He doesn't tell her about the exchange. And he certainly doesn't tell her he
thought about accepting Sech's offer, as twisted as it was.
Because his Clan didn't believe in that. Even though other Clans practiced it
for one reason or another, his had decided it was largely unnecessary. It
wasn't banned. But it was certainly frowned upon.
"We're killing every last one of them," She says between clenched teeth.
Sho lets her fume for a few minutes. Then he proceeds with his plan. "Save his
new battle duo for me."
His mother gives him a strange look. He shrugs. "It would be a shame for their
good blood to go to waste."
Good breeding was usually evident in their power and stature. The red head
definitely had good genes. So using him as fresh blood for the Clan would be a
good thing for them.
"The blond of the duo doesn't have blood worth saving." Well, that would
technically be true. He wasn't as physically strong as Sho or Chikotsu, that
was obvious. But he made up for it in cunning and tactics. He was also shorter
than both Sho and Chikotsu.
Another way around it then....
"I want the blond for my personal pleasure."
Sho's mother looks at him strangely. He can see the disappointment in her eyes.
"He seems like the type to scream when his arm is twisted just right."
His mother smiles. "I was afraid you'd never get violent. So good to know that
you aren't developing differently than anyone else."
***** Of Business and Pleasure *****
Chapter Summary
     Xerxes has thought all those he had been friends with, all those he
     trusted in Kenjin's army, have left. The good thing is that a few of
     them meant it when they said they'd never leave him behind.
Chapter Notes
     I feel really awkward posting anything remotely lemon-like..
     Not to say I have any trouble writing it.
Xerxes isn't sure how to feel about this as he watches the black smoke begin to
pour from the back of the large, three-storey house.
While he hates the Tarshish, he thinks that these have done no wrong. He would
believe the allegations with proof of them. But he has seen none.
He hangs back, waiting for them to come running out, courtesans, customers and
Madam or Master. He's not sure how burning down the brothel itself will make a
point, but it looks like it has had a lot of work and quint put into it.
May be it will teach the people not with withhold what's owed Kenjin or give
sanctuary to the growing rebellion.
And it's growing faster than the flames as they consume the house.
He isn't sure how to feel about that either. He can see the flaw in some of
Kenjin's policies, but the man has largely done well for his Territory and the
mass of people living in it. The only thing that stops Kenjin from having the
entire island is Princess Kuden's Territory in the South and Keava's guerrilla
forces in the East. She has been waging a subtle war for years. Where she gets
her people, Xerxes will probably never know.
Kuden is young. And Keava is older than most, power not yet waning. But by the
next generation, it would be.
And then Kuden would have to surrender.
"Shiik! Don't let them out of that door!"
Xerxes turns to his commander. "Where else will they go? There aren't any other
exits available to them."
"That's the point, Shiik."
Did Shouxen not know how many people were in there? Gods, Xii were stupid. "We
can't just let thirty-plus people burn to death!" Even Xerxes doesn't want to
go out that way.
Shouxen seems stoic, unfazed. "They'll die of smoke inhalation before the fire
can get them. They won't feel too much."
The screaming and wailing becomes louder. "There are children!"
"And they'll thank you for rescuing them from that hell hole."
"They can't thank us if they're dead! And this isn't rescuing! This is murder!"
Xerxes pulls one man away from the massive oak double doors, other soldiers
look at him and each other in confusion. Xerxes sees a range of emotions on
each of their faces. From anxiety to regret to sorrow to glee. "We can't murder
innocent people."
Many of them seem to agree and begin to step away from the doors.
Commander Shouxen's fist knocks Xerxes to the ground before kicking him in the
face. "Every person that escapes from that scum bath is another member of your
family that has to die! Nobody lives!"
The other soldiers are mortified, torn between their morality and their
families.
"Dignity!" Cries Xerxes. "If we must die, if our families must die, we will die
with dignity!"
"Speak for yourself, Shiik," Says Shouxen, the heel of his boot pressing deep
into Xerxes' abdominal muscles. "This man has no wife. No children. You should
consider this." The screaming becomes louder, voices more frantic.
"Why are we killing people who probably are unaware of the vengeance we're
wreaking? Why don't we just hunt down the guilty? This makes no sense!"
"Hold those doors!"
Xerxes watches, breathless as the men hold the doors shut. They rattle and
shake while the screams become something more horrific. Something not capable
of belonging from this world. And he stays under Shouxen's boot, under the
man's weight for some time. Eventually, the house becomes silent, only the
sound of the roaring fire remains.
He stays long after Shouxen removes his boot.
xXx
"Shiik," Says Shouxen. "Come take a walk with me."
Xerxes reluctantly stands, nauseous and restless, and follows his Commander.
"Son, not everything we do is pretty," Says Shouxen. "But all of it is
necessary."
Lie, something whispers inside of Xerxes. "We didn't have to kill them."
"We did." The older man takes him by the men digging graves, shallow holes for
innocent people. "Keava's agents were hiding there. And we couldn't sort them
out because their identities weren't known."
"It wouldn't have been as hard as you say. There had to have been another way."
Shouxen sighs. "I'm reporting you if you don't straighten yourself out."
Xerxes shuts his mouth for rest of the mission.
It weren't as though he scorned killing another person. He had done it before.
But this - This is different.
When he dreams, he sees faceless people along with the adversaries he's
defeated. These faceless people blame him. Try to take hold of him.
The children, also faceless, scream and sob.
And Xerxes doesn't know if it's worth killing the few to save the many.
Even after he returns home, he has the horrific dreams. He wants to do right by
these people. Tarshish, Human, or Full-Blood. Hell, he'd even make it right for
the half-breeds.
But what could he do that would lay them to rest?
He stands in the market, an apple in one hand, peach in the other, he looks as
though he's deliberating over them so the vendor doesn't shoo him off.
"I'd pick the apple, if I were you. You don't look like the type to greatly
enjoy peaches." The man beside him is brawny but not to the point of being
muscle-bound and unattractive. He could probably take Xerxes. And Xerxes is-
Was only shorter than Chiikets.
But Chiikets is gone. And Xerxes is starting to understand why.
"Although you don't seem the type to like apples either."
Xerxes glances at the man again. His eyes are light brown and while he looks
civilian, Xerxes knows his face from somewhere.
Quickly, The voice from before whispers. Remember quickly. Your life depends on
it.
But he draws a blank. "So what fruit do you actually think I like?"
The man looks over the different fruits for a long moment. "Apricots."
The memory of a guy he used to hang out with surfaces. The guy always brought
apricots with him. They used to eat them on his porch during the long summer
afternoons they both had off.
"Do you like them?" Xerxes blurts, feeling stupid.
The man smiles kindly. "I used to. I ate too many as a kid." He chuckles and
hands the vendor a few quint, picking up a ripened plum. Xerxes knows he
watches a little too intently when the man's teeth sink into the flesh of the
fruit.
Its nectar spills down his chin and fingers. Xerxes meets the man's eyes. The
glint of knowing brings a shiver to him. And come to think of it, he'd had a
thing for the guy that brought him apricots, too.
But that guy was twisted up six ways to hell in other things, other people, and
never thought of him as more than a friend.
Xerxes sets down the other fruit. The vendor gives the man a scandalized glance
but doesn't have time to yell at them because a woman is asking him about his
wares. The man, eyes like honey, offers him the plum and Xerxes tries not to
seem too eager to receive.
His bite is tentative, eyes closed to savour the flesh of the fruit, the juice
leaves him sticky. He suddenly feels very unsexy, slightly irked that the other
man could pull it off.
Said male leans in quick, tongue drawing up the juices from Xerxes' chin.
Xerxes moves to step back but the man has an iron grip on his wrist. The very
tip of his tongue slides up Xerxes' jawline, sharp teeth sink into his earlobe.
His hands shoot up and grip the man's shirt, the plum forgotten. The man moves
even closer into Xerxes' space, cheek against his. "I heard you and Shouxen had
a disagreement."
Xerxes feels like ice water has been poured over him. "Sir. I just can't get on
board with the murder of innocents."
The man pushes something into his free hand. "Then you should join the rebel
cause."
"Sir! I-" Whatever he was going to say was lost in a gasp as the man's teeth
sank into his neck.
"Sir, huh? You don't have any clue, do you?"
"Do you really want me to use your name in a place that everyone can hear?"
"Right." The man steps back. "In your hand is a place you can use my name." His
eyes take a wicked gleam.
Xerxes hopes he doesn't look like a pitiful cub. The vendor is scowling now.
The woman is extremely intent on the two of them.
xXx
To any prying eye, it's not anything of interest Xerxes tries to look nice but
not overdressed.
The same woman from the market opens the door and Xerxes' feels like a complete
moron. Of course Haunku wouldn't come alone.
She practically drags him through the doorway and slams the door behind them
both. "This could have been a trap. Seriously." She says. "Did you come
prepared for that occasion?"
"Leave him alone Anju."
"Haunku-"
"Go and get things ready for our departure."
Anju sniffs indignantly and leaves.
"I have so many questions," Says Xerxes.
"I know," Says Haunku, unfastening his button-up shirt. Xerxes licks his lips.
"We don't have very much time right now. So pick the one you feel is most
important."
There's a long pause where their eyes meet. "What happened to your sister?"
That little girl had kept him from every attempt at seducing her brother.
"I don't know. I have my theories but I can't prove them."
"Were you always this interested in sex with me?"
"I told you I had time for one question."
Striding over, Xerxes sits across from Haunku on the bare wooden stools. "Humor
me."
"No. I didn't even realize I had a sex drive until recently."
"I guess that woman you're with is pretty hot."
"She's asexual."
"Awkward."
Haunku smiles. "Easy."
"She is?"
"Working with her." Haunku pulls Xerxes' shirt off. Xerxes lets him. He can
feel himself practically vibrating. "She's just as focused on our task as I."
"And what would that be?" Xerxes' hands explore Haunku's chest and abdomen.
It's littered with shiny scar tissue and somehow that just adds to the sex
appeal.
"Not your problem." Haunku yanks Xerxes off the chair, forcing him to his feet.
Haunku's teeth sink into his collarbone and he hisses.
Deft fingers unfasten Xerxes' trousers and slide inside. "Ah. Ah!"
Xerxes presses into the hand. Teeth clench his nipple and his fingers wind
tight into Haunku's hair.
Haunku blows on the abused nipple. "Don't just stand there and whine like a
bitch."
Sniffing, Xerxes pushes Haunku back onto the chair and straddles him. "Want to
beg then?"
Haunku merely smirks up at him. "If you can make me."
xXx
He shivers and shudders while Haunku strokes his hair.
Anju doesn't seem phased as she makes herself dinner. "I'm not cleaning the
ejaculate. Seriously."
Haunku snorts, hair sticking to his face. "I thought women were made for that."
At the disgusted face Anju makes, Haunku smiles. "I've got some here on my
stomach. Why don't you come lick it off, hmm?"
"Why don't I introduce a chair to your face, hmm?"
Haunku laughs. "Everything in place?"
"Yes," She says, dropping all murderous intent. "They'll be waiting after
dark."
"We'll need to get them soon, then."
Anju takes a bite of her sandwich. "Keava's going to flip a shit if she finds
out you're knocking boots with other men. Seriously." Anju's tone is casual,
like she's talking about the color of the counter she's leaning against.
"But you won't tell her." Haunku says smartly.
"Duh, fuck face. You could have sex with trees and - as long as it isn't in
front of me - I don't care. Just don't tell me about it. Seriously."
"I masturbated on-"
"Fuck!" Anju shrieks. "I said don't tell me! Seriously!"
***** Plans *****
Chapter Summary
     Sho has big plans.
     But Megan has plans of her own.
Chapter Notes
     I actually should be writing for Camp NaNoWriMo.
     But I'm belting out chapters of this instead....
     Yay?
Nierka sits on a bank, kicking her legs in the water. And Sho likes the way she
looks, small and innocent and lovely to look at.
"Are you going to stand there and daydream all day?" Her voice carries up the
hill to him. He takes his time before sitting beside her, he doesn't have shoes
and socks to remove like she does. He wonders how she can stand something like
that.
But he grew up chasing the moon barefoot and she grew up putting on those
strange foot coverings every day since she was small.
Well.... Smaller than she is now. Or maybe Sho is just big? The size difference
is really only decided by Race, isn't it?
He watches minnows swim around her ankles. "Tell me that story about the
Mainland again?"
"Which one?" Her soft pink lips stretch into a smile, head turning to him.
"The one where your brother got his first..." His mind turns up a blank space.
And it's such a simple word he can't remember, that he's mildly frustrated.
"Car?"
Sho nods. He has seen her drawings of them before, but he wishes that he could
witness how they move, breathe in the smells Nierka associates with cars,
listen to the noises they make.
He wants to know how they work.
Nierka shifts a little. "You sure you wanna hear it again?"
Sho smiles. "Yes."
Nierka shrugs. "Okay. So in his sixteenth summer, Tony got a car. It was blue
like the water and shiny like metal- although cars are made of metal, mind you-
He gets so excited that he starts dancing, trips over his feet and face plants
right onto the front of the car!" Sho wonders what Tony looked like. Was he
beautiful like his sister? Did he have the same dark hair and green eyes? "So
we kinda freak out, right? He jumps up and insists he's alright but then- "
"Megan! What are you doing alone out here?!"
Sho scowls. He hates these people.
Megan- his Nierka- turns to the matronly woman. "I'm not alone, ma'am."
"You're alone with a man. A Beast-man, no less."
"Sho isn't a beast," Says Nierka. "He's just different. They're just the same
as we."
The woman, stares at Megan for a long time. "Come inside. Your fiance is
waiting for you."
Sho really hasn't had the mind to ask Nierka what a "Fiance" is, but he
surmises that it's a servant of some kind. Or maybe her teacher. Perhaps her
right hand?
This person is often taking up much of Nierka's time. But Sho plans to fix
that, dreams of being the one Nierka spends most of her time with.
If the village doesn't riot over it first.
Although, killing the Shadow Clan's heir would send them all to execution. So
Sho doubts he'll cause a fit by taking one of their women. Plus, she's an
outsider. Not quite one of them, not quite a stranger.
They should have no qualms.
But this old woman does. And she's the only person that can stir the whole damn
village into rebellion.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go, Sho." She stands, grabs her foot coverings, her
index and middle finger are crooked into the backs of them, they hang from
those two fingers.
From this position, he can see her soft, milky throat. And he knows he
shouldn't stare, but it's not often he sees a woman's neck.
"Are you okay, Sho?"
The shame strikes him hard. He averts his eyes. Looking at his soon-to- be-
wife's throat before he could even truly begin to court her. What kind of man
is he? "Yes. Have a good evening, Nierka."
Nierka, thinking Sho is awfully put out, runs a hand through his hair, an
intimate gesture she doesn't know the implications of, and turns to meet the
woman who's staring, disapproving. "Good evening, Sho."
And then he's left alone on the bank.
At least, he thinks he is until the old hag clears her throat.
He turns, smiles. But he's really just baring his teeth.
"Stop that," She says in his mother's tongue. "I know what that means." The
shock Sho feels must have crossed his features. The woman crosses her arms.
"You aren't the first animal to love a Human."
He keeps his lips carefully closed.
"You should be ashamed of yourself. Were you even going to give her a Jiira?"
That was his next order of business, actually. "I'm giving it to her the next
time I see her."
"No, you're not."
Sho can feel his hackles rising. "And why would that be?"
"Because she doesn't belong to you," She says. He starts to smile again, he's
resisting but his body is made to do this. "And you don't even have the decency
to bring her a Mokk'et."
His face flushes with shame. He should have brought her one the second time
he'd met her, but he was afraid that she would be shunned or wouldn't
understand what it meant. And then, after knowing what it meant, reject it.
"Would she have even thought to wear it?"
"Wouldn't it have been better to have brought her a throat covering instead of
appearing to be lecherous? Furthermore, you don't seem keen on integrating her
in to your family. Are you planning to leave your place, oh Prince?"
There was no way she could have known that.
He'd been careful to keep it a secret until the right moment when he would come
for Nierka like the princes in the stories she told with dainty, gesturing
hands and tiny pink tongue. "No. I just wasn't ready to introduce her to our
ways. I wanted to really know her. My wife."
"That is never going to happen," Says the woman. Before he can reply or give a
scathing remark, she turns on her heel and storms back into the town, calls out
as the gates close, "I'm warning you. Listen to me before you make a fool out
of yourself."
He's puzzled at this. Did this mean she thought Nierka would reject him? And
did she have good evidence to believe this?
What did she and Nierka talk about?
With a sigh, he pushes to his feet. He will have to bring her the Mokk'et
first. Then propose to her like Humans were want to do. Then she would wear his
Jiira. He'd need a Bride Price, too. But who would get it? It weren't as though
he could send it to the family she no longer had...
Troublesome indeed.
She was definitely his, though. And he would prove it to them. That old hag
didn't know what she was talking about.
 xXx
Getting a white horse is so ridiculously difficult that Sho vows to always send
someone else to fetch things for his plans. Finding a horse is hard. They were
only used by Humans and they were reserved for only the higher ranks. Buying
one from them is harder. He eventually becomes frustrated and throws the whole
bag, the size of his fist, onto the table, fuming.
The man negotiating stares.
"Take it!" Sho says. "And give me that damn animal!" The only white horse in
the last six stables in just as many villages he has visited.
The negotiator carefully peers inside the bag.
And then faints, his guards catching him. The head guard looks up at him then.
"Where did you get that many gold coins?"
Sho simply points to the animal. "Give."
So they do.
He's thankful the breed is large and sturdy. He's tall with the body of a
warrior and he doesn't want to embarrass himself or do harm to the horse.
Nierka would be upset.
Oh yes, He thinks when they give him the riding gear as well. This is perfect.
xXx
Nierka accepted the Mokk'et, a soft scarf with designs his Clan associated with
love and good fortune, and apologized profusely for not wearing one when he
explained the point of it to her.
She seemed to think he just couldn't bear seeing her throat again.
Now, here they were, sitting in one of the small restaurants, watching people
pass by.
Well, Nierka is watching them pass by. He is watching Nierka. The sun on her
face, the smooth skin of her uncovered arms is a contrast to the battle
hardened people he has known all his life. He's attracted to it. Not because
there's anything wrong with scars. But because of Nierka's, over all, lack of
them.
Finally, her gaze turns to him. "What is it?"
He opens his mouth then shuts it. She's so beautiful that he just wants to take
her in his arms and kiss her right then and there.
"What's wrong?" Her hand touches his forearm. It sends lightning through him.
He almost stands and screams to the whole island - No. The whole world that
this woman is his. That he loves her so much his heart might burst.
Until he sees the expression on her face. "I'm sorry," He says. "Nothing is
wrong. I just." He takes a moment to make eye contact, taking the encouragement
shining in her soft green eyes and channeling it to strength. "I need to show
you-"
"Oh! Nierka!"
Her head whips to the doorway in which a man has entered. "Bordeaux! You're
just in time to meet my friend, Sho!"
Bordeaux looks at him in a way that Sho knows he himself has looked at the
people Nierka spends time with.
Sho doesn't like him.
Sho has been sitting across from Nierka and stares at Bordeaux, lips twitching
upwards. Making it nonverbally clear he isn't going to move. So Bordeaux takes
the seat beside her.
Introductions are made, the word "Fiance" used again. Sho is sorely tempted to
ask what that word means but doesn't want his soon-to-be wife thinking he's an
idiot.
"Did you invite him to the wedding?" Bordeaux asks.
"Oh!" Exclaims Nierka, pulling something out of her trouser pocket. "I'm so
sorry, Sho! I almost forgot!"
"You did forget, dear," Says Bordeaux.
"Yes, yes." She slides the paper over to him. It's white and the ink is red
with winding letters.
It would be pretty if he didn't feel like that ink was his blood.
Bordeaux's fingers play with Nierka's scarf. "Megan really values your
friendship. I hope you'll be there."
The old hag was right.
He stood. He would have been taller than Bordeaux had the man been standing.
But he wasn't. And Sho wasn't going to use the intimidation stance on a sitting
man. Let alone a sitting Human. "I'm not okay with you marrying him."
Nierka looks puzzled. "I'm sorry, Sho. I know I should have introduced you
sooner but-"
"I want you to join my family. I don't care about introductions."
"But Sho, we'll always be family. You can visit. And the children, when I have
them, will love you-"
Sho throws the table to the left, away from the window. People begin squawking
as they rush to get out of the way. "I wanted you to bear my children, Nierka!
Not his! I don't want to visit, I want you to lay in my bed every night so I
can come home to you!""
Nierka stares at him, mouth agape, eyes wide. He can see her putting the pieces
together like he'd given them to her but she didn't know what they were until
now.
Humans are starting to oogle and murmer amongst themselves. They look at him
like he's an animal with a disease that makes him rabid. He wants to kill them.
All of them.
He thinks he'll start with Bordeaux. Then that old hag that always scowls at
him from the gates.
He isn't sure if he'll kill Nierka or not.
Finally, the woman stands. "Oh, Sho." She is cautious but not afraid when she
approaches him. Doesn't she know he could snap her neck with a flick of his
wrist? "I didn't mean to be so hurtful. I hope you can forgive me some day."
Sho picks up words from the crowd like 'Traitor' and 'Beast lover.' His vision
is nearly red, their heartbeats in his ears. He wants to taste their blood.
Nierka removes her scarf. "Is this a courtship gift?"
Technically no. But for their relationship, it would be seen as one. "No. Keep
it. Because I haven't any control." He means of himself.
But Nierka gives him a soft, empathetic look. "I'm sorry that this has gone so
badly."
He, at first, wonders what the hell she means by that. Wonders if she is more
sorry for his reaction than breaking his heart.
But the way she glances around with only her eyes says she's sorry she
humiliated him in public.
She's sorry for everything.
And so is he. So he slips out. Runs like a coward instead of killing his rival
and taking Nierka like he was taught.
He chooses not to tell his family the truth.
Chooses to let the entire village live.
***** Revelation *****
Chapter Summary
     Renjin has always been trouble.
Chapter Notes
     This is pretty dark. So if you don't like the painful stuff, I would
     suggest skipping it.
     This is the longest chapter I have ever done. Yay?
     So, if you like monster chapters with monsters in the guise of
     people, enjoy the chapter, I guess.
She's tired and hungry and cold. Rain water still drips from her hair and
clothes.
She hates this. Hates it so much it's almost enough to make her go back and let
Anayo tear her apart like he said he would.
Renjin hates that she's tempted.
She refuses the shelter of caves and caverns, unable to bear the haunting,
echoing sound of a baby's cry.
A movement to her left startles her and she pushes herself back and to the
right as quickly as she can as soon as she sees what's there, ignoring the
thorns that catch her hair and scrape her face.
A man, blue eyes and auburn colored hair crouches at the opening of the little
tunnel she's made with large pieces of tree bark, mud, and overarching thorn
bushes.
His gaze chills her blood and makes her afraid both to look away and watch him
closely.
They don't move for long minutes, even though it's still raining and he has to
be cold by now.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"You won't fit." Renjin herself had a hard time squeezing through the space.
He holds out his hand, even several feet away, Renjin flinches. "Then why don't
you come out?"
She presses back further against the brush and prickly vegetation. "Why should
I?"
His gaze only wavers when he has to blink the water out of his eyes. "Because
you'll die out here. And at the very least, you shouldn't have to die alone."
Renjin considers this before slowly crawling from her hideout, the man backs up
to give her room.
He takes her through dense forests and slick muddy areas, keeping her from
slipping as they go. And Renjin carefully studies his profile. Curiously
glances at the gloves on his hands.
"How long have you been out here, little Minnow?"
Renjin takes a minute to calculate. "A year."
He glances back at her, eyebrows up. "Most don't make it without a Pack. Where
were you before that?"
Renjin, knowing what her family has done to volumes of people, ashamed of those
deeds and afraid of the reaction, knows better than to lay all her cards on the
table. "The Toko family."
He pauses, turns fully to look at her. "How old are you?"
"Twelve Summers, sir."
His expression darkens, eyebrows drawn up and together, lips twisted into a
thin line. "I'm sorry." He sounds like he means it. "I didn't even know- " He
cuts himself off, turns away. "I'll fix this," He says. "I'll make it right."
And Renjin is in turmoil. Men were never like that without a purpose. She just
had to figure it out before he got what he wanted and discarded her. It didn't
matter that he sounded genuinely pained and angry. Hurt on her behalf.
He was planning to get her.
And she had to get him first.
xXx
He takes her into an old cabin. It's not really all that attractive to Renjin's
eye, but it's warm. She hears murmuring a small distance from them. When they
turn down a short hallway that opens up to another room, his Pack is there,
huddled around the fire. Some of them are as wet as she is. The Pack he's with
is pretty big, mostly made up of women. A few of them have male partners.
A robust blond male watches her curiously.
Many of them continue with their business
The man Renjin is with doesn't shiver, but his lips are blue. He ignores a
shivering Renjin and her chattering teeth, as he makes the necessary
introductions.
The last woman he introduces Renjin to, he kneels before, so close their knees
touch. She hadn't looked at him until then. He leans close and she leans away,
playing with him from what Renjin can tell.
She spares a glance toward the girl before putting a caramel-colored hand over
his face, shamelessly pushing him away. "You just love picking up strays."
"I have to repay the kindness a beautiful woman once bestowed me."
A woman sitting three people away, perks. "Don't complement me in front of your
Chosen. I'm way too old for a fight to the death."
The Chosen rolls her dark brown eyes. "I might fight you to the death over
that. You're only two years older than I." She then turns toward Renjin.
"Introduce."
Renjin fidgets under the gaze of this woman. "Renjin. Escaped from Kenjin's
territory under the assistance of Keava. Packless."
The woman gives her a wary look. "Why would she leave you after providing
assistance? She is usually keen on adding to her forces."
"I don't know, Madam Chosen."
"Shiseken," The Chosen says. Then she points to the man who brought her.
"Chiikets."
xXx
The room Chiikets takes her to has two children already in it. Both of them
around Rozolyn's age.
"Introduce," Says Chiikets.
The boy looks up from whatever he's reading at the desk, his form is slim and
makes Renjin think of skinny Tarshish. "Shen."
The girl doesn't look up from her sowing. "Kira Kaddesh. Hailing from the
deceased Kaddesh Clan."
Renjin turns to Chiikets. "I can't stay with-"
He holds up a hand. "It is only for this afternoon. I want to discuss with
Shiseken where she wants you." Renjin wants to pout. His gloved hand settles
over the top of her head. "Get comfortable. I'm sorry to say we'll have to
check your physical status soon."
Renjin's stomach begins to twist itself up. "What?"
"I'm sorry, Little Minnow. But it is an obligation I have to go through with."
She wants to grip his hand and beg, to run when he isn't looking. "I can't do
it."
"We need to know that you're healthy and not a danger to anyone else." And then
he withdraws down the maze of hallways, leaving Renjin practically wringing her
hands.
"I wouldn't worry too much," Says Kira. "It isn't as though he wants to see you
naked."
"Did he do a physical check on you?" Asks Renjin.
Kira nods. "It wasn't a big deal. Really."
She looks over at Shen but he's gone back to reading, ignoring them. This sets
Renjin further on edge.
xXx
"Come here you little animal," Says a woman named Kiren. "We have to get this
Mokk'et on you before dinner."
But Renjin refuses to come out from underneath the Human-style bed, staring at
the woman with baleful green eyes. "Don't make me get Shiseken. She'll whip
your ass six ways to next month."
So Renjin reluctantly slides out from under the bed. The Mokk'et selected is a
purple collar. It leaves Renjin wondering what sort of rank Shiseken wants her
in.
Dinner is an affair that puts Renjin at ease, rubbing shoulders with the older
members of the group and getting a feel for who is what in the massive
hierarchy.
But more than once does she feel Shiseken is watching her carefully.
Kajmir, Chiikets' Second, tells all sorts of stories during and after dinner,
usually with some amount of hyperbole or another. There's a girl a year or two
older than Renjin herself. She speaks about as much as a brick wall. Renjin
finds her the somber type.
When Chiikets comes back, he tells her that she, the girl, and the girl's
cousin will be sharing quarters.
The cousin never shuts up. She's older than them but younger than many of the
adult members.
"I heard you came from the horrible Toko family," Says Honjin, the cousin.
"What was it like?"
"Leave her alone, Ess'en," Says Kajiim, the girl. Her voice is surprisingly
deep. "I highly doubt she wants to relive it."
When their eyes meet, Renjin is aware that what Kajiim knows about her family
isn't from second hand stories. "Where did you come from before this?"
Kajiim turns back to folding clothes.
"The Fargreft Clan," Says Honjin. And Renjin remembers a few faces, including
one of the men here.
She wonders what caused him to defect. He was loyal to her family to a fault
before.
And he knows who she is.
He could get her killed.
Panic starts to set in until she realizes Kajiim and Honjin are both watching
her with curious, concerned glances.
If he knew who she was, he would have let the eel out of the net by now.
So she says, "Oh."
xXx
The sounds of the rest of the Pack settling for bed reaches Renjin. She lays on
her back in a nest of bedding. The other two lay not far from her.
After awhile, Honjin's breath even's out.
Kajiim's doesn't.
When she's had enough, Renjin sits up. Dark brown eyes don't glow as well as
blue or green. "Are they looking for you?"
It's a reasonable question. But Renjin really doesn't want to answer.
"Whatever happens, our people will keep you safe. But you have to stop lying."
Renjin is suddenly cold, her world trembles just slightly. "What makes you say
I'm lying?"
"Because I know, and Chante knows, who you are." Renjin is extremely aware of
the fact that Kajiim didn't say 'what.'
"I'm telling the truth. I came from that family."
"But you neglect to mention that family is yours."
"They never thought of me like that."
"It doesn't matter."
Renjin knows she should just pick up and leave. Before she owes anybody
anything. But she's afraid of being alone again.
"Fine," Says Kajiim. "But don't lie about anything else. Every lie you tell is
another ounce of punishment you heap upon yourself."
Renjin wonders where this girl gets off telling her what to do. "And if nobody
figures it out?"
"Then you're still hurting you."
So it takes one to know one.
"Why don't you just spill about who I am?"
"Because that could get you killed. Especially if he thinks you were trying to
infiltrate us."
"I thought you said-"
"There's a balance, Renjin. The more he knows about what was done to you, the
more you can tell him about who you are."
"How do you know I'm not a spy?"
Kajiim rolls over then, back facing Renjin.
xXx
Renjin is dragged to a room, kicking and screaming, by Kiren the next day.
Kajiim follows, providing silent support that goes largely ignored. It wouldn't
have been if Kajiim had gotten her out of the exam.
But it seemed even Kajiim was resigned to it.
Chiikets sits in a chair on one side of the room, watching Renjin flail and
Kiren swear.
"Enough!" He snaps when it reaches a fever pitch. "Kiren, subduing a child
should not be this difficult for you. Renjin, grow up."
Kiren practically throws Renjin onto the examination bench and storms out with
a huff.
There's a curtain for a door but it's drawn. Renjin can see two shadows cast on
it from the outside.
"Don't bother," Says Chiikets. "They're under orders that you don't leave this
room unless I allow it."
"Kajiim," Renjin whines, shoulders drawing up as her arms go around her own
midsection.
"I'm here," Says Kajiim from the other side of the curtain.
"Go ahead and come in," Says Chiikets. So she does. The guards peek in with
curious expressions, both women so, theoretically, they could stop anything
bad. Kajiim is quick to draw the curtain again.
Chiikets' expression becomes a mildly focused one. "Undress." Renjin stares him
down hard but he doesn't budge. "I would like to just get this over with.
Please."
Kajiim brushes shoulders with her. If he hurt her, would Kajiim tell? Would she
try to stop it?
Renjin doubts it as she removes her worn down shirt. Her trousers go next.
Finally, the Mokk'et. She shivers under his gaze. But it carries no heat. No
desire.
This predator isn't hungry, Thinks Renjin with relief.
He checks her vision first, then her hearing. "Open." He says, pulling the
glove off his right hand.
She reluctantly opens her mouth as wide as she can. The pads of two fingers
slide along the edges of her teeth. First the top row, then the bottom,
checking the condition of them, counting how many. "You don't have your back
teeth yet." He sounds like he's speaking more to himself than to her.
He looks carefully at and underneath her tongue, uses a Human contraption to
see down her throat. Then he looks at her gums.
"Anything I need to know?" He asks, checking her jaw then turning her head this
way and that to look at the muscles of her neck.
"Not that I can think of," Says Renjin. Because she has never really had
trouble with her health in the past.
"When was the last time you got sick?"
"Six months ago," She says.
He checks the alignment of her collarbone. Pauses then checks it again. "When
did you break your collarbone?"
"Two years ago."
He checks the range of motion in her arms, straight up, to the side, back, and
hmms quietly to himself before moving behind her. "Let me see the back of your
neck, please."
She lifts her hair, tilts her head forward and feels like she might vomit.
He runs his thumbs with light pressure from the base of her skull and down,
feeling her spinal cord as he goes. He finally stops at the nape of her neck
and feels the jutting bone there, before moving further down, a hand on her
shoulder causes her to bend forward some as his fingers, lightly applying
pressure, follow her spine all the way to her lower back.
"Something wrong?" Asks Kajiim. Renjin can't see his face so it makes her
stomach roil.
"Nothing," He says as he gently has her stand straight again, his hands
carefully prod at her scapulae, thumbs pushing in and searching for specific
crevices.
She jumps when his palms press against the back of her ribcage, long fingers
each lying atop a rib.
It starts as gentle pressure, slowly increasing. Renjin frowns."You're hurting
me."
Kajiim shifts anxiously. Another moment before Renjin is squirming and the
shadows on the other side of the curtain are starting to pay attention.
Finally, his strict fingers let up. Bruises are already beginning to form where
his hands were. His hands are much more gentle when they press into her waist.
He comes back into her line of vision then. He meets her glare with a shrug.
"It is good that your ribcage is strong. It means the rest of your bones are
sturdy. You're in good shape." Her glare doesn't lessen. So he puts on a glove
and places the gloved hand atop her head. "Grow up just a bit, huh? It's not
like I was going to hurt you."
"My ribs are sore."
"And they will be for a few days, yet. But you aren't injured." And then his
hand lifts, the glove is removed. "You aren't going to like this," He says.
His fingers press firmly against her sternum. First at the top. Then they slide
down to the bottom. And Renjin begins to tremble at what she knows is coming
next.
"It'll be over, soon." Kajiim sounds like she's trying to give encouragement.
Renjin glares at her instead then frantically grips his wrists and digs her
nails in when his hands begin an examination of Renjin's budding breasts.
"Stop," She says through clenched teeth.
"I don't like it any more than you."
"Then stop!"
"Why are your mammary glands so developed?" Renjin hisses when his fingers give
a soft tug on her nipple, already hardened because of the cool air.
"I hate you," She whispers. Her eyes meet his and she looks like she means it.
He points to the examination bench. "Lie down."
"I'm not an animal."
"Then stop acting like one." In one fell swoop, she's some how in his arms one
minute, despite the rule that his bare hands on her for any reason other than
examination is forbidden, and on the examination table the next. "Lie down."
Renjin wants to screech at him. To tear him open with her nails. Instead, she
does as she's told. She isn't ready to do things the hard way.
His fingers apply skilled pressure over her abdomen, carefully looking for
something. "Stand again," He says.
She glares at both Kajiim and Chiikets as she stands.
Then he kneels and Renjin tries to bolt before he grabs her by the back of the
knee and she almost falls on her face. "No more games, Renjin."
Her breath picks up, trembling uncontrollable. Something tingly slides down her
spine.
His fingers press against the top of her Iliac Crest and follow down on both
sides. "The cradle of your hips is wider than girls your age," He says. "When
did you have a baby?"
"S-six months ago." She starts to hiccup as his fingers press against the soft
flesh of her pubis, peach fuzz brushes against his fingers.
"You're doing really well." He tries to encourage as he tests the rotation of
her hips, finding everything well aligned in their sockets. Her tail bone is
fine, too. He sits her on the table again before looking over tiny toes.
Some of them have been broken before but they bend and work to his
expectations. The skin of her heels is tough. A sign her feet are sturdy.
Her ankles twist and rotate as they should. And he takes his time at her knees,
wanting to avoid the next part nearly as much as she.
She struggles as he gently pushes her legs apart.
He needs to make sure her body recovered. "What happened to the-" There are
tears running down Renjin's face when he looks up at her. Kajiim looks over his
shoulder and covers her mouth with both hands.
His fingers trail over the horrific damage done, while Renjin hiccup-cries
behind her own hands.
There is no way the birth of a child could have done this. "Who did this to
you?"
Renjin doesn't respond.
Kajiim strokes her calf. "You need to tell him."
"Anayo," Renjin gasps. "Anayo did it."
Chiikets' eyes close, entire body trembling, tries to breathe through this.
"When did he do this to you?" He lets her legs close. She won't be sexually
active for another few years. Possibly never. She needs time to heal before he
can finish things.
"Two years ago."
If he had known what had happened, he never would have- His shirt comes off and
Renjin scoots away, still sobbing. The fabric is tossed over her, a rare
gesture. "Your clothes need to be replaced. Cover yourself with that until I
can find you something better."
And then he leaves.
Kajiim hovers, unsure of what to do. "You know he didn't mean to actually hurt
you, right?" She begins to look for Renjin's discarded Mokk'et. "If he knew
that your body was," Kajiim pauses to find the right word.
"Disfigured?" Offers Renjin. "Mutilated?"
Kajiim shrugs helplessly, unable to find a way to pretty this up. To lessen how
bad it really is. "If he had known, he'd have waited."
"Are you blaming me?"
"No," Says Kajiim. "I'm saying he didn't know."
"I didn't want anyone to know," Says Renjin. Her limbs are heavy. She doesn't
want to get up or clothe herself. She wants to sit here, in this corner,
forever and just die.
"I get that." Kajiim finally finds the Mokk'et from under Renjin's old pair of
trousers. "I haven't told anybody about why we left Kenjin's services either."
The question hangs in the air but Renjin won't ask it because it's personal.
"He threatened to kill my little sister if my older brother didn't have sex
with me." Her voice is distant.
"And I saw your little sister at dinner last night."
Kajiim hands her the Mokk'et. "Sometimes, you have to do things you don't like.
Even if it hurts."
xXx
Chiikets eventually brings her clothes that don't have holes and fit well
enough. Better than the old ones.
"I'm sorry," He says. "I should have known."
"But you didn't," Says Renjin, trying to be mature. "So don't think anything of
it."
There's silence as she dresses.
After she's tied the last tie on her top, he finally gathers the courage.
"Those cuts.... What did...?"
"What the Humans call scissors."
His grimace says he knows what those are.
"He always kept them sharp. Told me he wanted them to be ready when it was time
to stab Anaya's eyes out." Renjin had never liked her elder sister. In fact had
plotted to end her life a time or two.
"Did he? I heard she died a few weeks before Chante and his family left."
"No." Renjin carefully fastens the Mokk'et so her shoulder-length hair isn't
caught. "I'm not entirely sure how she died. I am sure Anayo was upset he
didn't get to do it."
xXx
"The fog is pretty thick tonight," Kajmir says to Chiikets two months later.
Renjin has trailed behind him, wanting to see the fog, herself.
Chiikets stares out at it with relaxed posture. "We don't have to worry too
much about covering ourselves then."
"Drink?" Asks Kajmir.
With a smile that makes Renjin feel like smiling, too, Chiikets says, "Just a
little."
xXx
She's stitching up particularly deep welt on Anaya's back under the low light
of the candle.
"You shouldn't help me," Anaya whispers into the pillow.
"That's what sisters do, right?"
"No," Says Anaya. "You should have killed me when I was unconscious."
Renjin pauses. "But why? You don't kill people you love."
Anaya bolts up then. Takes Renjin by the shoulders. "Stop."
"Stop what?"
"That feeling." She shakes Renjin hard. "Kill it."
"You're hurting me."
"Good. I want you to hurt."
"Why would you-"
"Renjin, listen to me. Take this and then the hurt everyone else does to you
and make it a weapon."
"A weapon?"
"Against me. Against our brother and father and Rozolyn. Don't let anyone close
enough to knife you in the back because they will." She shakes Renjin hard
enough to give her whiplash. "Do you understand, Renjin? They will."
Renjin is reeling at the sudden change. "I-"
"Do you understand?!"
"Y-yes!"
Anaya backs off after that, leaving Renjin feeling disoriented. Something
smells like it's burning.
"Good." Anaya stands, the needle dangles from the reopened wound on her back.
The other wounds are opened, too. The blood runs down her skin, soaking into
her white pants. "They're coming for you."
"Who?" Renjin asks as Anaya begins out the door. "Who's coming for me?"
"Don't trust anyone, Renjin," She says as she disappears through the doorway.
It's then the burnt smell intensifies and Renjin is aware of people screaming.
When she bolts out of her nest of blankets, Kajiim is there, lantern in hand.
"What's happening?"
"Anayo is here."
And Renjin realizes where the burnt flesh smell is coming from. "Are you okay?"
"We need to leave." She and Kajiim race to gather up the children.
Once outside, the fog is still thicker than soup. Renjin is disoriented.
Kajiim grips her arm harder than necessary. "This way." To the right they run.
Kajiim's dark hair and gleaming metal armlets are what Renjin follows.
Until Kira stops, near sending Renjin flipping over her head over heels.
"Where's Shen?!"
This causes both Renjin and Kajiim to search frantically. "Shen!!" They call in
unison.
"You take the others," Renjin tells Kajiim. "I'll find Shen."
Kajiim looks reluctant until a man falls backwards into her, sword flailing.
Kajiim's own sword puts an end to him. "Go."
When Renjin spots him, he's hiding in a tree, bow and arrow trained on the
fray.
"Hey, you little idiot," Says Renjin as she climbs into the tree with him.
"Time to go. What you're doing is dangerous."
"But I want to stay."
"Too bad. What if-" Renjin's sentence twists into a scream as blinding pain
shoots through her left shoulder. She grabs Shen with her good arm and works
her way down the tree until the same pain explodes in her right thigh.
When she lands on her back, it aggravates her wounds until her back is arched,
mouth open, trying not to let any sound escape. Shen lands on top of her and
she thinks she might pass out.
She's sweating and knows she's gasping like a fish.
Shen pats her cheek - rougher than Renjin would really prefer but there's
nothing she can do about it. "Are you okay, Minnow?"
Renjin is forced to roll them when a shadow falls upon them, followed by the
sheen of steel. They dodge another arrow but she feels nauseous and knows she
won't be able to keep this up.
"You need to get out of here," She says.
Shen scowls. "What about you?"
"Don't worry about-" A strong hand grips her hair and yanks her back onto her
knees. She pulls the knife hidden in the pocket of her trousers and stabs
blindly. "Go, Shen!"
The boy is tearful when he jumps up and makes a run for it. "I'm sorry,
Minnow!"
"Find your brother!" She calls after him. The man behind her grabs the arrow
shafts in her shoulder and thigh and drags her.
She's in burning agony but is thankful Shen has escaped.
xXx
The spot she's dragged to has torches lit. Anayo reclines on a plush seat that
keeps him away from the dirt. "We meet again, little sister."
"Sister?" She can barely make out the figure in the mist. But she knows
Chiikets' voice by now. "What the hell?"
"You didn't know?" Asks Anayo, moving to stand over Renjin. "She didn't tell
you?"
"You cut your own sister's genitals with scissors?! What the fuck is wrong with
you?!"
He rolls Renjin over, grips the shaft of the first arrow and rips it out of
her. This time, Renjin's vision does black for a few moments. And it takes her
another minute to realize the person screaming is her. "I have very good
reasons for the things I do, Chiikets."
"Like murdering my family and handing Haunku over to your father to be
tortured?"
"He escaped, you know." His boot collides with Renjin's face. "And Renjin has
always begged for the things I did. Tell him, Jinny."
Renjin spits blood and, in between gasps, replies, "Fuck you."
"See? She even begs me to have sex with her. And she's insatiable, by the way."
"You're out of your mind," Says Chiikets.
Anayo smiles. "Thank you." He grabs the arrow still lodged in Renjin's thigh
and drags her over to Chiikets' feet. "You should try her out."
Despite himself, Chiikets manages to stay deadpan. "I'm not having sex with a
girl who's so young her pubic hair doesn't even have a curl."
"Don't talk about my pubic hair that way," Says Renjin to the dirt.
"Do it or your brother dies, too."
Renjin struggles as she takes the initiative, trying to get away. "Look at her,
putting a simple act above the life of your brother. Grateful isn't she?"
Stifling anything that agrees with Anayo, he replies, "She's afraid. Rape tends
to cause that."
"Look," Anayo catches up with Renjin before kicking her in the ribs so hard
even Chiikets can hear the snapping as a few of them break. Renjin begins
wheezing. Chiikets feels his stomach twist at the idea that her lung might be
punctured. "Everyone can come out of this alive." He turns to Chiikets. "Or
your brother can come out of it dead." A man drags a kicking Shen out of the
mist and Renjin realizes Anayo is serious.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want?!"
"I want her broken. She has been unraveling my plans for months."
"I didn't... Mean to," Renjin says between desperate breaths. "I didn't....
Know."
Anayo shrugs. "I think you're lying."
"I just wanted..." Chiikets' heart squeezes at how pitiful Renjin sounds.
"Wanted...." Her hands attempt to pull her away from Anayo.
He tisks before flipping her onto her back. Squatting down near her head and
looking her in the face. "Well, now it's about what I want."
Her eyes are glassy and dull. "You're going to hell."
He smiles. "We all are." He stands. "Do you hear the way she's breathing? Just
do it quick. Then we can put her out of her misery and go back to our lives."
Shen is under the threat of death yet again. And it's all his fault.
She's an outsider, He tries to tell himself as he moves to kneel between
Renjin's legs. He can't bear to look her in the eyes, even as her clothes are
shifted for his access.
"It won't be over," She says. "It'll never be over."
"Please," Chiikets whispers. "Please just shut up."
"So you can... justify your cowardice?" She sounds dead already. "Do you know
what he'll.... say after this?"
Tears run down her face at the first push. He can't position her in a way that
doesn't cause her pain, had to cut her out of her trousers because he didn't
want to agitate the arrow- Don't think about it, he tells himself, Don't show
any empathy to the outsider.
She's still gasping and choking- probably on her own blood- while he finishes.
And it's unimaginably hard to even perform under these circumstances. When he's
tucked himself back into his own trousers, he stands. Anayo is still looking at
Renjin. "My brother?"
This seems to snap Anayo out of it. "Yes, yes. Sure. Dashiir."
The man brings Shen closer. The boy is crying, looking between Chiikets and
Renjin. He looks like he was the one Chiikets betrayed.
"Shen, I know what you're thinking. But you have to understand that-" A glint
of steel and Shen's blood sprays over his face.
The man releases Shen into Chiikets' arms. "No." He tries to staunch the
bleeding but Shen is slipping through his fingers. "Shen. Oh Gods. No. No,
please. Please, Shen."
The boys hands cover his, expression resigned and soft.
"I love you, Shen. I love you." The boy smiles at him before the light fades
and his muscles go slack.
Anayo puts a hand on his shoulder. "I never did pay you back for taking Haunku
when you left." He begins to stroll back into the mist, voice like he didn't
just destroy Chiikets in a handful of hours.
Not hours. Minutes. Fucking minutes.
"The only reason I found you? The hounds were tracking Renjin. If only you had
left her in that pitiful bush."
He doesn't know how long he's there. Listening to his own gasping, sobbing
breaths and wheezing of a dying girl.
The last thing Shen saw was what he had done to her.
He pulls his brother closer. "I'm sorry, Shen. I'm so sorry."
Kajmir appears, hovering at the edges of the fog as though he were a spirit.
"What's happened?"
"Shen is...."
Kajmir drops to a crouch and approaches that way. Hoping he won't be rebuffed
with fists and curses. "My friend. What's happening in that crafty head of
yours?"
Chiikets pulls Shen closer. "I want to die."
Kajmir doesn't respond, only kneels beside Chiikets, shoulder to shoulder, and
strokes the boy's hair. "How do you want to proceed?"
"I need to take him back to my Aunt. And then I will hang myself."
Kajmir's hand between his shoulderblades is light. A calculated comfort.
"Surely we can make better plans than that, my friend."
"You may be able to. But I have failed."
"No," Kajmir insists gently. "Were you able to tell him you love him?"
Chiikets nods.
"Then he was with you and safe in his last moments-"
"How can he be safe if he's dying in my arms, Kajmir?!"
"Because you aren't scared when you die next to someone you always trusted with
your life."
"How would you know?"
Kajmir shakes his head. "I may not have your cunning, but I am good at
observation."
Chiikets couldn't deny that.
"Now, do you trust me?"
Chiikets finally looks at his friend. His hazel eyes are empathetic. "Don't ask
me to."
"We need to clean his body and prepare it, Chiikets. And you need some time to
breathe. You two won't be apart long if you stay true to your plans."
So Chiikets hands his brother over to the only one he trusts.
And then he's alone again.
Until he realizes he isn't.
His gaze turns to the red hair spread out on the ground.
This was her fault.
It takes effort to rise to his feet. More effort to stagger towards her. "You
knew he would be looking for you." He drops to his knees near her. "You fucking
bitch."
Her eyes are glazed when they open. Her gaze is far away.
But all he sees is the color. "I told you it wouldn't be over."
And then his hands are around her neck. "I should have known you were a Toko."
She's too weak to struggle. "It was in my fucking face and I just let it go
because you were so deceptively pathetic."
Renjin stares at him. Fingers heavy on his trembling, white knuckles.
"I should have taken more pleasure in what I had to do to you." He backhands
her once, twice. "I guess you deserved being cut up like a science experiment.
What did you to make him destroy your pleasure receptors?"
"Doesn't matter," Says Renjin. "He always wins." She sounds empty.
"What are you talking about?"
Her eyes sharpen, they're clear when they meet his. "He wanted to twist you...
until I was dead and you were.. like him. He's getting what he wants."
Chiikets bares his teeth. "I'm not like him."
"Then why... are you treating me.. like this?"
He can see the look of horror that crosses his face in her eyes.
Instead of killing her, he stands. "Goodbye, Little Minnow."
"Goodbye," She whispers.
And he walks away, leaving Renjin to die alone.
She wonders what hell is like. If she's going the go there.
If Nachte will protect Rozolyn like he promised. Probably not. Men were such
useless creatures. Promising one thing and doing another. Renjin's last thought
is a prayer for Rozolyn's safety.
xXx
xXx
"Ugh. Not this again," Sighs a man's voice.
"Hey, rabbit pie is delicious." This voice belongs to a woman.
"It's only delicious if I don't have to eat it everyday for two weeks."
"God. Are all Half-breeds as picky as you?"
Renjin groans. "So this is hell?"
"It's only hell when it's Triska's turn to cook."
"Jezreel, you picky fuck!"
xXx
It takes another week before Renjin's awake more than a few hours at a time.
She listens to Triska and the man banter. But she usually tries to ignore them.
Until one day, she can't.
"What kind of food do you like?" The man sits at the edge of her Human-styled
bed.
"I don't want to eat."
"Starving yourself won't get you back on your dainty little feet."
"I don't want to get up. I want to go further down," Says Renjin. "I'm sorry I
wasted your efforts."
"Hey now," Says the man. "It can't be all bad."
His hand lays on her shoulder and then she's on him. "Don't fucking touch me!"
She swipes at him with her nails and when he's stunned, backing down, she makes
a run for the door. She pushes it open before her knees give out in the
hallway.
She screams her frustration to the carpet.
The man approaches, crouches near her head. "Well then! Looks like you're going
to be just fine."
"I just tried to claw your eyes out and you hover over me like nothing
happened? What the utter twisted fuck?"
He laughs, causing her to flinch back. "Seeing you have strength is a relief.
Triska thought you were a cripple."
She tries to spit on him for pretending to care but it only drips down her chin
pathetically. He bites his lips together in an attempt to not smile. That
pisses Renjin off more. "I hope eels get your testicles."
"Oooh!" He says. "We picked up a lively one after all."
"Don't expect a thank you, you naresuane."
"Little girl's got a mouth on her." He goes to pat her head but her snapping
teeth make him think twice. "What makes you so feral, little one?"
"Go to hell."
"Come to think of it, a thank you would really have been nice." Renjin glares
but his smile doesn't waver. "Luckily for you, I did this out of the kindness
of my heart."
"Molk shit. I've heard that one before. Anything with a dick lacks compassion."
"Really child," He says. "You're quite offensive. Assuming things about my dick
without real evidence."
"Fuck you," Mutters Renjin to the carpet.
His tone deepens, loses it's playful overtones. "They really did you in."
Her breath hitches.
"And," He sounds like he might not think he should say this, "You might be
pregnant."
The bottom of Renjin's world drops out. "I can't have another baby I hate."
The man is quiet for a long time. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"It has to die."
"Did you kill the last one?"
Her eyes meet his now. And he's nothing like she thought.
His eyes are gray, almost white, pupils parted in the middle at a slight
diagonal.
"You're a Skin-walker."
He looks like he wants to protest the subject change, then thinks better of it.
"I'm half Skin-Walker."
"The other half?"
He raises an eyebrow. "You can't tell?"
"I just can't fathom. Isn't interbreeding with Skin-Walkers illegal?"
"Just because something is illegal doesn't mean people don't do it."
"I'm home!"
"Awesome! No more rabbit pie!"
"Jezreel!"
Renjin really hates the idea of being stuck with these two morons.
***** False Starts *****
Chapter Summary
     Sorajin wants Kieve to remember he's free.
     Kieve is a little bit confused, but he can roll with the way he's
     being reminded.
Chapter Notes
     To make up for last chapter, I bring you slash.
     Oral sex ahead.
     Weee.
When they return from looking for Sorajin's family, they head for the tub.
They'd encountered Sho on their way and he always seemed to make it a
prerogative of dirtying Sorajin up. Kieve is thankful Sho actually served a
purpose this time. Distracting Sorajin from a destroyed village and the massive
body count.
Everything Sorajin knew -- Humans he grew up with, the chapel he helped build,
even the walls he and his people guarded so jealously -- was gone.
Sorajin sighs as his clothes come off. He's rippling muscles and yellow
undertones. "Do you have jaundice?" Kieve should have asked this question when
he first began to realize Sorajin wasn't going to do the Do with him.
The fact that he's dirty, dried mud coating his face in patches, adds to the
hilarity when Sorajin deadpans. "No." He sounds like he's heard this question
before. "I'm naturally this way."
"You're..." Kieve knows he ought not poke his aggravated master. But it's so
easy. So entertaining. "Naturally jaundiced?"
With a glare, Sorajin slides into the tub. "Come here, you big idiot."
So he does. Carefully easing into the tub so there's only a small amount of
awkward to deal with. Sorajin sits between Kieve's legs, a position they found
as comfortable as they could be and looked romantic or whatever. Sorajin wanted
to appease Renjin without trading anything of himself.
He's careful lathering soap into Sorajin's hair, it's funny that this guy
always lets him so close but never close enough to let him in. Really.
He knows who Sorajin is - what he's like - only by watching intently.
He knows the younger man likes to look at his body. Likes to touch, but
doesn't. Knows it's Human inhibition. And Kieve hates that many of the useful
things he's learned come from the brothel he's been rescued from.
He hates it.
"Kieve?" His Master's upper body turns to him. "Kieve, are you okay?"
He realizes that his fingers are painfully tight in Sorajin's hair. That's
probably what clued him in.
Sorajin's hands come up to lightly grasp his wrists, either his hands are too
small to circle them or Kieve's wrists are too large to be circled, and turns
fully to face him. "You need to let it go."
At first, Kieve's response is to quickly release Sorajin's hair but the smaller
man doesn't let go of his wrists. Sorajin's hands are hot. Too hot. "You need
to let the past be the past," He says. He's not talking about the flashbacks.
He wants Kieve to live in the now. To think of himself as more than a non-
entity. Possibly, more than a Yona. "I changed what you would be called for a
reason."
Kevierkets had been his name when he belonged to the House. A name that meant
Lies under men. When he became a Yona, Sorajin insisted he be called Kieve:
Free; Uncaged
Kieve hadn't understood it at first, thought Sorajin was mocking him.
Sorajin's lips brush against the palm of his right hand, then his left. His
lips give favor to Kieve's left wrist before running the tip of his tongue up
the Yona's forearm.
Kieve startles, tries to pull away. "H- hey. We both know you're not really-
" Sorajin's fingers cover his lips. There's an order in his dark eyes and Kieve
is really unsure if he should disengage now or care about it later.
Sorajin nips his shoulder before running his lips over Kieve's collarbone. His
head tilts all the way back, baring his throat to Sorajin, but the gesture is
pointedly ignored.
Teeth and tongue find his nipple and Kieve groans against the thin fingers over
his mouth. He's extremely confused when Sorajin's tongue flicks over the slowly
hardening nub. Because Sorajin has never really even given Kieve a hint that he
wanted anything more than a Leader- Right Hand Relationship. Renjin had
casually encouraged it because of Tradition. (Until he knew who they were, who
his Master was, he had despised this old tradition - the Yoyen)
Sorajin's mouth trailing lower, tongue dipping into his navel leaves him
falling back on familiar ways. His Master's fingertips press gently against his
lips now, seeking entrance.
"Did you plan this?" He comes dangerously close to losing his voice when
Sorajin runs the flat of his tongue over his hip. Over the family crest Renjin
had tattooed there. His eyes meet Kieve's and the Yona knows that this
inexperienced boy is going to lay him bare pretty soon.
And not in the literal sense.
Fuck, Kieve hates being unraveled.
Sorajin's nails graze lightly up and down his skin. "Do you want to continue?"
Kieve, to his shame, is hard already. In his defense, it has literally been
years since he's been intimate with someone else. And the last time he wanted
to be intimate was longer than that.
"Kieve," Says Sorajin. "I need an answer from you. Do you want to stop?"
And Kieve wants to cry at the sheer amount of control he has. Because Sorajin
isn't the type to force it.
The smaller man draws back, taking his lack of an answer as his real one.
Smart boy.
But Kieve has to admit that he wants this. His fingers tangle in Sorajin's inky
black hair, the surprise across his face is kinda funny. But Kieve doesn't
dwell on it. His mouth presses against the dark haired man's very gently at
first, pulling him closer. His Master's thigh brushes against his erection and
he nearly leaps from his skin.
He's thankful to know he isn't the only one when he feels Sorajin's arousal
brush against his stomach.
He nudges Kieve's legs up and over the rim of the tub and the Yona only has so
much time to wonder where this is going before his Master's tongue slides
against his, teasing the barbell piercing at the end, then running his tongue
along the sharp teeth that nip at his slick appendage. Kieve is sure to be slow
when he wraps his fingers around the base of the smaller man's erection, even
slower when he strokes upwards.
Sorajin tangles his fingers tight in Kieve's dark purple hair and moans into
his mouth, hips jerking but unable to find a rhythm.
Oh gods, thinks Kieve. He's the epitome of purity.
His free hand grips Sorajin's hip, encouraging an easy cadence. He gives
himself to the Yona's hands pretty quickly.
His Master is gasping for breath when he pulls away, Kieve nipping at his
bottom lip.
The Tarshish likes the way he looks. "You sure you don't have jaundice?"
Sorajin is too horny to really be mad at this point, so he sticks his fingers
in the older man's mouth instead.
Kieve runs his tongue over and between The younger man's fingers, sucking
fervently and moaning. Sorajin gives him a dubious look. "I haven't even
touched you yet."
He just smirks and lifts an eyebrow. A picture of mischief at it's best.
Sorajin rolls his eyes as he removes the piercing from Kieve's cock. The noise
he chooses to make this time is an appreciative one.
"What?" Asks the younger man. The Yona draws the occupying fingers from his
mouth and Sorajin's eyes follow the thin trail of spit that connects them. This
makes Kieve laugh. He can't help it.
"What? What now?"
"You're so fucking virginal it's cute." At the glare he receives, he shrugs.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Don't ruin the moment by laughing at me."
"Jeez. Take a cock piercing out and everything gets serious."
"What's the big deal about it anyways?" Asks Sorajin as he puts the barbell in
Kieve's open hand.
"It's pleasurable for the receiver. If you want, I'll show you some time." The
older man sets the piercing on a stand to the left. Sorajin's expression
becomes slightly strained.
"Hey, hey," Says the Yona, pulling Sorajin onto his lap. "Don't freak out. I'm
not pushing. I'm just suggesting. We didn't even have to do this."
The younger man gives him an agitated look. "I'm not six."
"I know. If you were six, I'd be explaining to you what a dick was. Not asking
if you wanted to use mine."
Sorajin sighs through his nose. Kieve leans back against the wall of the tub,
relaxing and breathing deep.
Sorajin sighs once more, fingering the privacy curtain they hadn't bothered to
use. "Can we try again?"
Kieve gives him a surprised look. "Yeah. Do whatever you want." He had been
expecting Sorajin to call it quits.
As the younger man moves to climb from his lap, the Yona grabs his arm. "Hold
on a minute. Why don't we warm you back up first?"
At Sorajin's quizzical expression Kieve gently pulls him into a kiss. This
time, the older man takes his time working their mouths open, fingers dancing
down Sorajin's arms, up the soft skin of his stomach and chest, then down again
and up his back.
His tongue twists at a slow pace, taking his time with Sorajin's then sliding
his tongue out before pushing it back in. Sorajin shivers and tries closing his
lips, but not his teeth, around it. The older man moans, slowly dragging his
tongue over his master's lower lip. He rubs his knuckles up and down Sorajin's
nipples, being sure to keep his tongue working the dark haired man's mouth. He
has to work desperately hard at not showing his amusement when he notices one
of his Master's hands sliding down to wrap around his own cock.
Kieve pulls away, the younger man's cheeks are flushed, lips parted as he
pants. Not to mention his pupils are blown wide. Kieve suspects his are too as
this time he's the one looking at the thin line of saliva that connects them.
Sorajin ignores it in favor of his favorite word: "What?"
"Don't touch," Says Kieve, knocking Sorajin's hand away for his own hand to
grip him in its place. His Master hisses, gripping his wrist with both hands
when he drags his callused hand upwards in a quick, almost rough, tug. "See?"
Says the Yona. "I do it better." He jerks him quick and when Sorajin seems like
he's getting a better hold of himself, Kieve puts a twist in his wrist at just
the right moment or gives his nipple some attention to keep the dark haired man
writhing.
Sorajin's hands grip Kieve's shoulders. "S-stop!" His thighs are shaking, nails
digging into Kieve's shoulders. The Yona can tell he's close but if he wants to
keep the good stuff going...
Kieve's hands slide upwards to the younger man's heaving chest. He's dripping
precum and his hips are still begging for friction. "Sorajin?"
His Master's pupils are blown to the point that the iris is merely a thin band
of color. Between gasps, he says, "Not yet."
Kieve tilts his head slightly. "Why?"
Finally, Sorajin pulls himself together. "I wanted to try something. I won't be
able to if I..." His shoulders pull together and forward just slightly, eyes
sliding to the right.
"Okay," Says Kieve. "Try it."
"Anything?"
"Within reason."
Sorajin looks like he doesn't quite follow but Kieve isn't worried about it.
He's not comfortable with penetration so anything along those lines is probably
out of the question.
Therefore, everything left is reasonable.
Sorajin shyly slides off the older man's lap, puts his legs over the rim of the
tub once more. And Kieve, achingly hard and wishing his Master would just do it
already, has an idea of where this is going. Unlike before, he's thinking
clearly. He has to if this is going to go the way Sorajin wants.
He lets his head drop back when his Master grips his cock. He wants to
encourage the "two hands" rule but keeps his mouth shut. Sorajin strokes him
firmly, slowly. His hand isn't able to fully wrap around Kieve's thick arousal.
He grips the rim of the tub when Sorajin gives him an experimental lick. Oh,
this was going to go quickly.
The look in his Master's eyes as his mouth attempts to take him in leaves him
trembling. He can't not give advice, now. "Pull my testicles down."
At the baffled look he receives, Kieve groans. "Just do it." His back arches
and he thinks he might cry a little when his orders are carried out.
But it is so worth it when he's watching the younger man work him, his soft
tongue working the tip, the dark haired man watching him as intently as Kieve
is watching him. His Master slowly takes him in and fuck if it isn't- Kieve
hisses. "Teeth. Teeth!" Sorajin draws back in confusion, much to the Yona's
relief.
"You want me to use teeth?!"
Kieve's hands are gentle when they tangle in Sorajin's hair. "Don't bother with
sucking me off," He says as kindly as he can with a frustrated libido. "I think
your mouth is too small."
"Or your," Sorajin pauses, blushing brightly, "your dick is too big."
"Probably that."
"Okay. So no deep throating."
Kieve laughs. "You wouldn't be doing that in the first place."
Sorajin sighs, a gust of air on Kieve's cock. It twitches in his grip. He
kisses the head before rubbing his tongue on the underside.
"Mmhmm," Kieve hums.
Sorajin's tongue laves up from root to tip before leaving suckling kisses in
various places. Kieve's left hand goes back to gripping the edge of the tub,
his right hand moving restlessly so he doesn't pull Sorajin's hair. Because he
wants to let the younger man figure him out, like a game.
He gives himself over.
Something he's never done for anyone. Ever.
He's panting by the time Sorajin has decided to pump him with both hands, his
body providing just enough lubricant. His hips thrust to his Master's rhythm,
eager to receive and keep receiving. There's sweat dripping from the tips of
his hair as water slushes around in the tub. They were going to need to replace
the water after this...
Sorajin between his legs, looking shyly up at him as his mouth gives a sucking
kiss to the underside of his cock, along with tender presses of his knuckle to
Kieve's perineum is what unravels him. He grips Sorajin's shoulder instead of
his hair as his hips buck, his seed spilling out. He gasps and and quivers as
he lies boneless against the tub for a moment. "Fuck."
Sorajin climbs up his body and licks his bottom lip. He pulls the younger man
down for a kiss before pulling away and flipping their positions. "Your turn."
Sorajin's length is pulsing when Kieve rubs his bottom lip teasingly over the
head. "If I do something you don't like, tell me."
"Right."
Kieve's flicks his tongue from root to tip, before giving slow, hard licks to
the glands on the underside of Sorajin's aching shaft. The younger man's hands
tangle tight in Kieve's hair again, trying to push and pull him at the same
time. He nudges the rounded piece of metal in his tongue into Sorajin's slit,
causing a gasp of his name and a tug of his hair. To swallow or not to swallow,
muses the Yona as he wraps his lips over his teeth, keeping a close eye on
Sorajin as he eases his Master's cock into his mouth.
He bobs his head slowly, holding Sorajin's hips in place and taking his time to
reacquaint himself with the feeling of oral sex with a man.
He lifts his Master's hips a little further out of the water and reminds
himself to breathe deep when the tip rubs against the back of his tongue and
hums around the shaft before releasing the dark haired man's hips to thrust.
And thrust he does, fucking Kieve's mouth while gasping and arching and begging
as the Yona hollows his cheeks and rubs his barbell in all the right places.
Kieve focuses on the gasps and laving his tongue as the haze of flashbacks
start creeping in. But Kieve won't let it. Not yet. Not with Sorajin so close
his hips are losing their cadence.
And then he's arching so hard the older man thinks he might injure himself,
pushing as deep as he can into Kieve's mouth while crying out. The Yona moans
in response, mouth still encouraging whatever the younger man is willing to
give.
Sorajin's body trembles with aftershocks while Kieve slowly rubs his face
against his stomach.
"Am I supposed to feel so tired?"
Kieve nods before standing and draining the tub. If the water got any colder,
Sorajin would probably have health problems.
Wrapping his Master in a towel is a little harder. The younger man's legs are
shakey and his balance is off.
But after he's in a towel, carrying him to bed is easy. His head rests against
Kieve's shoulder, eyes closed. The Yona wonders if this was a fluke. But he
isn't going to ask.
It is, technically, his job to teach his Master about sex. Among a very few
other things. It's his Master's job to teach him how to please him. That's it.
That's all.
Up to this point, Sorajin only had sought him out for companionship.
So was this a pity fuck?
Was Sorajin just trying to earn his trust up to this moment? Because it had
worked.
Was this his way of trying to erase Kieve's bad memories? By replacing them
with himself?
Kieve lies Sorajin on the bed and wraps him in a blanket before opening the
window and getting dressed, stomach growling.
Time to get some food.
***** Every Spirit Has A Reason *****
Chapter Summary
     Sometimes you know the truth before you're aware you know...
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The first time she has this dream, there's a woman in a black bag. A big bag.
One her people have used to put trash in.
Noyek thinks that the dead woman is calling out to her. Why this woman chose
her, she isn't sure. But she believes every spirit has a reason.
So she walks the beach for hours, looking for that place in her dream that she
and her mother discovered the body.
Noyek doesn't find her. Not the first day. Or the next. It's anxiety inducing.
Knowing that this poor murdered woman wants to be found but Noyek is too
stupid, too useless to find her.
The next time she has the dream, Noyek and her mother discover her, once more
in a bag.
Her eyes are open.
But Noyek's mother wants to put her back. To bury her so no one else will find
the dead girl.
Noyek takes more time to really look at the woman. An off-white dress, her wet
hair is dark, lips that once probably spoke love to someone, are slightly
thinner than those of most women, with absent green eyes. She looks much like
Noyek herself.
But she's prettier than Noyek thinks she will ever be.
This time, Noyek combs the beach as though possessed. She doesn't give much
thought to the part of the dream where her mother hides the body once more.
She skips meals and lessons because she knows this woman must be found. This
woman needs her. Desperately. And Noyek can't waste anymore time.
Eventually, her brother, Itan volunteers to help her so she can sleep and eat,
at least.
But breakfast is a horrible affair as she's forced to watch her mother give
affection to a bastard.
She feels worthless, wants to die.
So she's quick to finish her meal and slip back into obscurity. Showers to wash
the visions away. The pain.
But it doesn't leave.
It only helps the truth sink in as she dries with a soft, white towel. Her
mother doesn't care about her anymore. Her mother thinks she's worthless, is
throwing her away.
Noyek throws her soap across the room. "I'm not trash!" She shrieks. "I'm not!"
The outburst leaves her panting. She's so angry and hurt and confused and she
wants it all to stop.
A glance to the mirror leaves her clutching her towel and gasping, trying not
to scream at the top of her lungs at the image.
Noyek realizes that girl in the trashbag...
... Is her.
Chapter End Notes
     So, for those of you that have come this far, is there a character
     you'd like to see more of? Any questions?
***** Betrothed *****
Chapter Summary
     If Sho thought things had gone wrong before, they were out of hand
     now.
     Thankfully, there's a light at the end of the tunnel.
When his mother drags him out of bed with a 'surprise', Sho wants to tell her
it can wait. He hasn't slept well since Nierka's unwitting rejection.
But his lungs constrict with urgency when he tries to go back to sleep. So he
reluctantly stands from his nest of blankets.
Leaving his spacious tent, the cold air caresses him with a lover's embrace. He
should have dressed before greeting the crisp early morn. It's still dark
outside, lightening up around the edges of the sky.
It isn't good for them to see him shivering in the cold, wearing only a pair of
comfortable shorts.
His mother would learn not to wake him if it was the last thing he did.
There's smoke rising in the center of their camp. People are crying out, but it
isn't for help. Nobody is hurt because there isn't any sort of blood in the
breeze.
When he gets closer, he realizes they're singing, celebrating.
Sho pauses before making himself known. His mother never mentioned a gathering
like this.
There are two figures tied to poles on the other side of the bonfire. But he
doesn't have time to slip back into the shadows and figure it out on his own.
His mother appears beside him, taking his arm, her hawkish features both
murderous and ecstatic.
As she leads him around the fire, his chilled skin warms. The snow circled
around it has melted from the intensity of the heat. People either glance at
him with pity or congratulate him with sly expressions.
At first, judging from the two figures and his mother's expression, he thinks
they've snagged a pair of well known Full-Bloods. Maybe from the Clan under
Sasayo. Perhaps they caught the battle duo and he would be forced to go through
with his lie of making Sech scream.
He really hopes it's just people from Anayo's territory.
Upon closer inspection, it's a woman and a man, both Human, tied to these
wooden posts.
When the woman, dark hair tangled and obstructing part of her face, looks up,
he wants to run in the opposite direction.
"Nierka?"
Bordeaux spews all sorts of threats that Sho neither understands nor pays
attention to.
His mother grabs Nierka by the hair, tilting her head up and back. "I caught
your Intended in bed with another man."
Sho's voice sticks in his throat. This can't be happening. His mother wasn't
supposed to even remember Nierka existed, let alone catch her with-
"Mother." He struggles to find the right words, wracks his brain to figure out
what he can do.
She smiles. "You can express your gratitude later." She lets go of Nierka and
draws a knife, offering it hilt-first to Sho. "It's time to take back what
belongs to you." What she really means is, Kill Bordeaux and take Nierka back
to your tent.
Nierka is staring at him with wide eyes. There's betrayal written across her
features like he himself had tied her there.
"She isn't mine," He says, wishing it weren't true.
His mother stares at him strangely. "Didn't you tell me you were courting her
in the late summer?"
"I did," Says Sho, trying to think of something that doesn't injure his image
or Bordeaux. Or get Nierka killed as a sort of vengeance. "But I went to lay
with her and discovered she'd already been with a man." Careful to add an
apathetic roll to his shoulders, he looks casually towards the bonfire. "I have
no taste for whores."
He can practically feel Nierka's hurt. "I never slept-"
He's quick to turn towards her. "That's enough, Megan." She flinches like he's
just hit her. And while he had thought about it before, he regrets it now. He
regrets it enough that he wants to grovel and beg forgiveness.
But he can't right now. And she might not forgive him even if he found the
opportunity.
When he moves to cut Nierka- Megan free, he notices a small patch of blood-
covered snow.
"Mother," He asks, "What did you do?" He can hear all the things he shouldn't
be feeling in his own voice. Megan cranes her neck to look at him.
She shrugs, nonchalant. "The man she was laying with said the ring on her
finger was evidence that she didn't belong to you."
His stomach drops out. Part of him wants to go ahead and kill Bordeaux for his
mistake. He was her Husband. How dare he cause anything that would get Megan
hurt?
His gaze turns back to the ropes and he's left with the painful realization
that this is his failure. Not Bordeaux's.
"Sho, one day everything on this island will be yours."
Everything, He thinks, but Megan.
"We'll find you a harem of Human women to suit your tastes in the meantime."
His mother tries to console him. "She would have made a horrible Yona anyways."
Sho pauses at this. "Yona?"
His mother sighs, gusty and all drama. "What? Did you think I was going to let
you destroy your father's blood after I worked so hard to attain it?" Yes, Sho
had, actually. "I would have betrothed you to a woman of our kind eventually,
my child."
Sho would never have been able to give Megan the life he thought she deserved,
he realizes. Still deserves.
So he cuts them free. Lets Bordeaux punch him. But only twice, then makes his
mother give Megan back her ring. It's not fancy. But it's pretty. Simple.
Like Nierka.
He walks them back to the village, insisting he do it alone, in silence.
Nierka's hands, missing a ring finger, stay clenched at her sides while she
stews and boils in her anger.
Apologizing isn't going to make things better. They're within a hundred yards
of the village gate when Megan stops. Sho stops, too, unsure if he should keep
his back to her or look her in the face.
"I can't believe you called me that!" Her voice cracks. From the corner of his
eye, he can see Bordeaux getting ready to lunge. "Do you really think of me
that way?"
Sho turns to look at her, hoping he won't have to say it. Tears are running
down her face, skin inflamed and red. Her teeth are bared and, at first, Sho
thinks it's aggression. Then, he thinks about the other Humans he's seen make
that face.
Anguish.
Sho had cut her deeply with his words. So he shakes his head. "I lied so mother
would let you go."
Her nostrils, tiny things, Sho wonders how she can breathe through them, are
still flared. But her lips close. He hopes her pain has been lessened some.
Then he steps back, out of her way to happiness and a family.
She looks at him and he looks at her.
Finally, with a hitching breath, he manages, "Goodbye, Nierka."
There's a mixture of emotions he detects in her eyes, body and voice when she
replies, "Goodbye, Sho."
She doesn't look back.
But he never takes his eyes off of her until the gates close.
xXx
It's late spring before Sho stops being heartsick.
His mother gives him all sorts of remedies, hoping to cure what she believes is
a physical malady, because a Full-Blood male would never be emotionally ill
over a girl he neither cared for nor had sex with.
And while he isn't heartsick, it's still hard getting out of bed. It's
exhausting to even do small amounts of training.
It frustrates him, he has always been able to push through his emotions before.
But the sun is too bright, people are too happy, and his bed is too
comfortable.
His mother crouches beside, leans over him and sighs. "Get up. Come to dine."
He grunts and she stands. "Make sure to look nice."
This piques his curiosity. But she's gone before he can ask.
When he enters, there are three new people sitting at the table.
One of them is a leader of another Clan. Sho thinks his name is Tand.
He sits beside Sho's mother. Beside him is a woman with a scarf that covers not
only her neck, but her hair, too. Her nose is pierced and there's a thin,
golden chain that attached to the piercing that also attaches to the Mokk'et,
behind the shell of her ear.
Ranka. Her name is Ranka.
When her golden brown eyes meet his, she quirks a brow at him, lips tilting up.
"He doesn't look like much," Says the man on the other side of Ranka. His
gloves have a golden pattern on them. This is her elder brother, the gold cloth
wrapped around his wrist proof of already having married a woman, he shouldn't
be here.
"He hasn't been well since mid winter."
Tand looks at Sho's mother. "That is a long time to be ill."
"The time he was sick before this was when he was twelve Winters and worked in
a heavy storm all day. And that was only for a week." She's embellished that
story quite a bit. But he has no choice than to let her.
Tand looks Sho over very carefully. "His father?"
"Good blood. Poached from the Pride." His mother beams at her achievement.
At this, Tand quirks a brow. "Don't tell me you mated with Sasayo. He might be
the leader, but he's still too scrawny."
"No. I wouldn't have said he had good blood if that was the case."
Sho resists a sigh. She actually would have if she knew she could get away with
it.
"So then, did you get it from the Man Slayer, himself?"
His mother laughs. "Sleeping with Chiikets would have been like taunting a
poisonous snake. I'm not that bold."
Sho isn't sure why. It would have been an opportunity to merge Clans and take
over. "Suffice to say, Chante is unable to turn down an offer when it's
presented." Sho feels like now is a good opportunity to do one of those "spit
takes" Nierka- Megan used to talk about. Because his mother had been
infuriatingly vague about who his father had been.
There's a long pause. "Is Chante aware?" He's afraid to even breathe at the
answer.
His mother shrugs. "It's possible."
Sho wants to bang his head on a wall. The only way Chante would know was to
meet him. The parents always knew their children, even if never meeting them,
by just looking at them.
He'd take one look at Sho and he would know.
Now Sho doesn't want to stay still, he doesn't want to stay in his seat. He
wants to find Chante. Wants Chante to look at him. But his mother's gaze, when
he meets it, keeps him effectively pinned.
"His blood isn't really-"
"It's better than many other's, isn't it?" His mother turns back to Tand. "He's
quite virile, after all." There's an 'unlike you' implicated in her tone and
Sho wonders if that was on purpose. Tand didn't have the blood most of their
kind looked for. He was a little on the short side, lacking an athletic build.
Meaning even though he took care of himself, his body didn't naturally or
easily become muscular. His shoulders aren't as broad.
Sho is surprised that he has so many children.
His son looks like he has received his mother's good blood.
Ranka does too.
But it's a little insulting that their father is so intent on good blood when
he hasn't much of it.
A foot nudges against his. An accident probably. He continues to listen to
their parents make wedding arrangements. The foot slides up his calf and he
jumps, nearly knocking his glass of Sahkmeh over.
He looks at the brother, who looks at him with narrow, critical eyes and knows
that is almost an impossibility.
His gaze then jumps to Ranka. He waits and, eventually, her eyes flick to his.
Her eyes dart downwards, to the table - under the table - for a split second
then bounce back up to his, her face is resting on her fist, elbow on the
table, hiding a sly quirk of lips from everyone but him.
Well, Thinks Sho, at least she's interesting.
***** From A Child To A Leader *****
Chapter Summary
     Sasayo, as he sups with his family and deals with the drama of his
     daughter's engagement, reflects on the things he can't ignore.
Chikotsu is quiet when he approaches Sasayo, Sech behind him. "Father."
Sasayo tips his head up in a nod of acknowledgment.
They remain at least five feet from him, a respectful distance.
He misses the days that they were young, the days when they would climb into
his lap without a care for respect or personal space. But they are old enough
to be a danger to him, now.
And while he's proud that Chikotsu has enough strength and maturity to become
the new patriarch when everything is in place, that Sech has the cunning and
loyalty to make a good Second, he already hates having to watch his back.
Being alone with the two of them is slightly suicidal.
"Would you come to evenin' meal with us?"
Ah, but even in their maturity, they are still children seeking attention. It
touches somewhere deep inside of him, convinces him to lower his guard. This
was how it was before King Sonere. And he understands why the man wanted to
change things.
Sech shuffles his feet, always unable to keep still. But Chikotsu is statue-
like in his patience. A reverse of Chiikets and Kajmir.
He wonders if Shiseken has noticed.
He turns to face them now, to look at them in the waning light. And, at first
glance, he sees Chiikets and Kajmir. Then he sees the boys.
Chikotsu tries to look like it wouldn't bother him if he said no. Sech smiles
like he already has the answer.
These boys are mirrors of their blood fathers.
But he won't let them be tarnished like the men before them.
Like himself.
He smiles. "Let's go before your mothers worry." They step out of his way and
he leads them down the tall hill. His worries over the coming storm can wait.
The rest of the Clan sits around a large fire, enjoying the cool evening. He
watches his own son, Kaiton, give a scathing glance to the two boys behind him.
If Kaiton had been a little older, a little more mature, Sasayo would have
gladly trained him to be the next leader.
And while every child is trained to integrate into a Clan or begin their own,
the oldest are trained more extensively. They are trained to inherit.
When the children realize he's there, he's greeted with a chorus of, "Good
evening, Father!" Even by Kendai, who has a father. The women, and Kendai's
father, each look up to greet him.
They migrate inside, sitting around a table. He counts heads, making sure no
one has been left outside before he settles beside Kajiim, Kaiton next to her
and his daughter, Niiniai, next to him.
"Good evening, Father," Says Kajiim with a smirk.
He smirks back. "Did you cook, Mother?"
Her eyes roll and he laughs. Kajiim is able to cook without catching anything
on fire, but only just. So she doesn't cook.
Sasayo makes fun of her. And she teases him about everyone calling him Father
Life is good.
Shiseken, raises her hand tentatively. Even though it's been years since her
demotion, people still quiet and look at her expectantly.
Chikotsu and Kendai look at her with something like wonder, curious as to why
she has so much pull.
Sasayo wonders why she never tells them.
"Since we're all here, I think it would be good to discuss Niiniai's marriage
arrangements."
That had been a topic he has tried to keep everyone away from. A marriage to
Itan was fortuitous. There was only one, major catch.
"She's marrying into the Toko family." To be fair, a lot of people had mixed
feelings about it. Even Sasayo, himself.
But Niiniai needed to be married off soon. And, preferably, to the father of
her child.
There's a long silence, some of the children have learned their parent's
feelings over it. Those children scowl. Chikotsu watches without turning his
head, gauging their reactions while carefully neutral.
"Why?" Kiren asks. "Isn't he a Half Breed?"
Whispering and murmuring erupt around the table. They throw all sorts of
glances at Niiniai.
"Did he blackmail you?" Asks someone at the other end.
"Did he lie to you about what he was?" Asks someone on the right.
"I bet he didn't even tell her he was one of them!"
"They're awfully deceitful."
Niiniai shakes her head. "It isn't so!"
They turn to look a her. No one speaks for nearly a minute.
"Did he rape you?" Asks Sech. "I heard he got a little forceful with another
girl."
The rest of the Clan isn't whispering now. Many of them have risen to their
feet. Some of them stand over Sasayo, bombarding him.
"You're handing your daughter off to a rapist?"
"And a Toko?"
"How could you do something like that?"
"I don't even think Tarshish would do something like this!"
"Enough," Sasayo says as the hysteria begins to wear away his patience.
"What does this mean for our daughters?"
"And your sons! What about your sons?" Chimes a voice that could only belong to
Sech.
The chaos kicks up a notch with demands that he rise to his feet so he may be
challenged and exiled, terrified questions over the well-being of their
children, and a familiar voice stirring the pot.
Sasayo's slams his palm onto the table. "I said that was enough!!" His last
word has a roar trying to break through it.
The Clan drops into silence.
"Thank you," He says. His blood is rushing in his ears. The smell of fear and
anger and someone teetering on the edge of violence clogs his nose. He makes
eye contact with each of them, children included. Sech is smiling innocently.
Chikotsu won't make eye contact. He's watching Sech.
Sasayo has always thought it would be Chikotsu who would attack and overthrow
him, the older boy has always met their expectations of aggression.
But it's in this moment that he thinks it will be Kajmir's blood that will stab
him in the back and step on his throat while he's already gasping for air.
He shouldn't be able to see his own death in that boy's eyes, but Sasayo is
pretty sure it's there.
Which makes him wonder if Chikotsu will be stabbed in the back, too.
He should wring the boy's neck while he can still get away with it, mate with
his mother before to soften her up to him so she feels conflicted instead of
pure hatred.
He knows he could never actually do such a thing. He has raised Sech. Killing
him would be like murdering Kaiton. "You told me that you trusted me when you
put me in a position over you. Now you suddenly don't?" Guilt crosses the
features of a few. "Come now, you lost faith in me because I allowed my
daughter to do as she pleases? I never said I agreed with it."
"Then why are you allowing it?" Asheer cuts in. Of course Asheer would cut in.
Sasayo breathes deep and clenches his teeth for a moment. "Because it is the
right thing to do."
There's silence as they try to pinpoint what he's casually leaving out. They
won't know for a few months yet. Niiniai had begged him not to tell. Kajiim had
thinned her lips in disapproval but kept them shut. They were especially
careful not to tell Kaiton.
His eyes meet Shiseken's. She has stayed seated, spine straight, shoulders
back. She is still a fine woman. Wide hips, dark eyes, and pert breasts.
Childbearing has made her attributes better. And she watches him like she once
watched other males.
She doesn't trust him.
And he can't blame her. Every time they tangle with that family, bad things
happen.
But their family has done bad things to other families, too and he can't deny
it.
"I want an explanation," Says Asheer.
He musters his most stern expression, prepared to give the "What I say, goes"
speech in only the second time in his life.
"Don't waste his time, Asheer," Shiseken's voice has only gotten deeper over
the years. Sometimes, he forgets she is no longer the Chosen matriarch. He
thinks she probably forgets, too. "He feels this is a wise choice, let him make
it. It will be good reason to go to war and wipe them out once and for all."
Sasayo gives Shiseken his darkest look. "There will be no war."
She stares back at him. "When he does harm to Niiniai, we will rally to your
aid."
Niiniai stands. "Stop it. You can't insult him just because you're old and
bitter. He has never lain a hand on me!"
"That is because you aren't bound to him yet." Shiseken, sounds as though she
has been through this conversation before.
Niiniai settles for glaring daggers at Shiseken.
Sasayo is so frustrated, he bites his lip until it bleeds.
He looks to Kajiim, who doesn't seem like she's made up her mind one way or the
other.
"I think," She says, "that this topic is best left alone for now. We will not
know to be ready for war until it's time." Kajiim and Shiseken stare each other
down for a long time, unblinking.
Finally, Shiseken blinks and looks away. She knows better than to come to blows
with the Chosen. Sasayo feels like he can breathe easier now.
Now that it is temporarily solved, everyone settles back into their spots.
It doesn't hit him until a few minutes later that he narrowly avoided being
exiled. Thrown out. Even killed. His eyes meet Shiseken's again. She doesn't
like it. But she doesn't seem want him taken down over this. His eyes meet
Chikotsu's. He has plenty of questions. Then his eyes go to Kaiton, who was
more than ready to go to war a few minutes ago. His son has high aggression.
And while it's a relief, it's almost as scary as the idea that Chikotsu will
eventually lose himself until he's either killed or overthrown Sasayo, that
ever lingering danger of raising another's cubs.
Eventually, Chikotsu and Kaiton will come to blows.
Sasayo doesn't want to be around to face the winner.
"We went out to catch frogs today," Says the youngest child of the group,
Nightshade.
Sasayo pushes these thoughts away. "Did you?"
"No," She says. "They're too slippery." Her face is sweet, features soft and
her two front teeth are missing. A strange trait of Human children.
He finds it endearing, nonetheless. "Maybe next time?"
She smiles. "Maybe."
The rest of the meal goes like that, youngest to oldest, the children tell him
of their accomplishments or failures. He either rewards or encourages.
This is the best part of his job, being the Father and not the Leader or the
Disciplinarian. Not the Mate or the Warrior.
These children respect him, but don't distance themselves from him out of fear.
Chikotsu isn't afraid of him, but what he, himself, will become. What he will
have to do.
And, so is Sasayo.
***** Lying by Omission *****
Chapter Summary
     Anayo's week is full of surprises.
Anayo is gasping, gripping the porcelain of the sink with white knuckles.
This isn't him. Is it?
This Full-Blood in the mirror?
His hair is too long, eyes too dark. When was the last time he slept?
He doesn't know.
Hyon eases into the washroom, the lines of her face spelling concern. "Anayo?"
Her eyes are so dark he can barely distinguish her iris from her pupil. "Hyon."
Her fingers begin to rub deep into the muscles on his lower back. "I'm here.
I'm not going away."
Neither am I, Whispers a familiar voice in the back of his skull. He thinks he
might vomit. Hyon lies her head against his back. "We should leave this place.
We can go explore the world. Start new."
It sounds beautiful. It sounds like he might need it.
He can't go.
The tattoo over his left pectoral itches in a way he can't scratch, burns in a
way he can't soothe, when he thinks about giving up his goal of razing this
fucking island to the ground.
Hyon wraps her arms around his waist. "I need you to know I'm pregnant."
His whole world seems to, to tilt? Bottom out? Is he fainting? He feels dizzy.
Lightheaded.
This is wonderful. Horrible. Amazing and, at the same time, enough for him to
want to tear his eyes out.
"No." He feels claustrophobic and free. Nauseated and yet extremely well.
"No?" Asks Hyon.
He turns to look her in the face, his hands clasp her shoulders. "You can't be
pregnant."
Her crestfallen look makes him feel a little guilty. "I finally have something
that will earn respect from your family and you don't want me to have it?"
His fingers twitch. That voice starts clawing at his mind. Telling him she
needs to be punished for any sort of disobedience.
But Hyon has never been anything but good. Enduring the hunting from his Mother
and abuse from his Father and their Clan.
Now his Mother is chained in the dungeons below, his Father is dead. The rest
of the Clan will stop tormenting her.
He and Hyon have worked side by side to lead this kingdom.
Hurting her hurts him.
Hyon's eyes fill with tears but she doesn't let them fall. "Please."
He turns away, trying to decide what he should do.
But this is hurting her. And hurting her hurts him. "Okay." He meets her wide,
shimmering eyes in the mirror. "We can have a cub."
Grateful, she clings to him like a second skin.
He would make it safe for their child. Wipe the island clean of anyone that
could do it harm.
Which means, eventually, even himself.
His vision begins to haze and, as much as he tries, control of himself slips
out of his hands. He isn't sure where it goes.
Days pass as he continues his crusades of the island. He is able to take down
only a few Packs at a time, stomp out the slowly growing embers.
While chasing down a few Females that have decided to run rather than fight, he
stumbles, literally, upon a young man napping in the deep shade of a tree.
The boy hisses. "Watch it! If you break my ankle, I'll kick your ass with my
good one!"
The Females he'd been hunting are long gone. But they are of no concern to him
now. He grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt, holds him up off the ground a
little. "Just whom do you think you're speaking to?"
The boy scowls and Anayo instantly knows his face. Even though he's never seen
this petulant child.
"A dick cake," Says the boy.
Anayo puts him down. "Spent some time with the Humans, have you?"
The boy pretends to brush dirt off his shoulders. "My mother was Human."
Anayo laughs so hard he thinks his lungs might burst. When he calms down he
looks to the perplexed boy. "What's your name?"
"Ma'hale."
Anayo feels a headache coming on. "Soft Light? I suppose your mother was Human,
giving you a pathetic name like that."
"Stop talking like you know her."
Anayo leans in, nose to nose with the boy, pinning him against the tree. "Oh,
but I do."
"She's dead." Familiar green eyes bore into his.
"The woman that raised you is. But not the woman that gave you life in the
first place."
Ma'hale pushes him, hard enough to make him draw back. "Stop. Just because I'm
a Half-Breed, doesn't mean you can fuck with my head."
Anayo rolls his eyes. "Did your mother ever describe the man she was with? What
happened to him?"
Ma'hale shakes his head.
"Did she have anything from him? Half-Breeds don't come about by a one time
slip. For you to exist, she had to have cared enough to want a relationship of
some sort with him."
Ma'hale looks like he's getting it. Finally.
"Even if he was visiting every now and again, he would have left her something
that belonged to him. So that if she sought him out, people would know who she
was looking for."
Ma'hale is silent. Looking lost and confused. "I don't understand. Why would
she lie?"
Anayo lets the boy stew in his raging emotions for a few moments more. "It is
likely," He takes care to take his time. To draw it out, "that she chose to
hide it so she could hide you."
Ma'hale looks up sharply. "Hide me? From what?"
Anayo runs his tongue along his top teeth. Should he divulge? He could use
either angle for his purposes. But only one would do the best for him.
"From your parents. They could be a great danger to you. Especially your
father."
Ma'hale tilts his head. "Why would he pose a danger?"
Anayo shrugs. "Some of us enjoy eating our young, so to speak."
Ma'hale shivers. "You said you knew my mother?"
"Very well."
"How?"
"Because I am your father."
The color drains from the young man's face, his eyes go wide. They dart this
way and that, looking for an escape.
Anayo lets him contemplate it for a moment. "And I have been looking for you
after your mother left."
"Left?"
Anayo is careful to look sorrowful, open. "Yes. She left before I knew you
existed. I wish she would have left you with me instead of abandoning you."
"Maybe she died giving birth? Surely she didn't want to leave me."
He drops his shoulders, calculates how low they have to go to be convincing.
"I'm sorry to say she's living." She didn't want you, He's careful to imply.
There's hurt, betrayal, anger, grief. Yes, Anayo can work with these emotions
he's created in the boy.
"Take me to see her."
Anayo folds his arms, to cross them is a Human gesture. "I wish it were that
simple." Anayo looks away, draws his eyebrows together just so. "She doesn't
want me anymore, either." Perhaps, weaving the boy around his fingers is a
little cruel. This is his son, after all.
The only thing you're really doing is omitting a few unimportant details, The
voice in the back of his head purrs.
He offers his hand to Ma'hale. "Come with me and let me teach you about who you
are."
Ma'hale frowns, shifting from foot to foot. "When I've learned, will you help
me meet my mother?"
"I promise." This was a promise he fully intended to keep.
xXx
Hyon adores him, says she loves the idea of another set of hands to help with
the baby. The look Anayo gives Ma'hale when the boy starts to protest silences
him.
They then fetch him a Yona.
The young Tarshish by the name of Mercy. And while Anayo finds him odd, he
knows a good offer when he sees one.
Mercy has battle experience. He's expensive and he knows it. Anayo has plucked
him right out of the hand of some noble that had paid for everything from
Mercy's bloodline to his training.
Anayo thinks it serves the old man right to breed a lover in the stead of
finding an existing one.
Ma'hale is disturbed at first. "I can't encourage slavery. It's wrong."
Mercy snorts, it's so practiced to sound polite that it - strangely - does.
"Cut the crap," He says. "You got me out of laying under some old naresuane
that couldn't even get it up. Be happy. Smile a little." He leans back in his
chair, throws his left arm over the back of it and crosses his right ankle over
his knee. This bad attitude he has is a facade, Anayo notes. He wonders if this
is the boy in the natural or it's been trained into him.
Hyon smacks him with a scroll. "There will be no foul language in this house!"
Mercy scowls but still cowers slightly to show that he gets it.
Anayo wonders if Ma'hale will learn a thing or two from the Yona.
And he isn't talking about swearing.
***** Promises Made *****
Chapter Summary
     Chikotsu is drawn to trouble. And now he's surrounded in it.
     He just doesn't know it yet.
It's during a raid on an illegal brothel that Chikotsu encounters Iris.
She stands in the doorway of what Chikotsu guesses is a serving room, watching
him watch her. "Have you come to free us or kill us?"
"We can't murder people who have had no other life but this. The proprietors
have ta die. They knew we don't like sex traffickin' in our territory."
Her hands wrap lightly around the door's metal frame. "And where can we go when
we are free? What will we do?"
He takes a slow step forward, watching the way the thick ringlets that make up
her hair move when she steps back. "Where you belong. Tarshish go back to their
people in the cliffs. Full-Bloods are temporarily given to trustworthy families
for rehabilitation."
The Tarshish thins her lips. "And the Half-Breeds?"
"They can go wherever they want."
She stares at him, lips parted.
"But you're not a Half-Breed," He says.
Her lashes lower. He's entranced by how long they are. "I want you." It slips
out, unbidden. At the struck, anxious look on her face when her eyes meet his,
he says, "I want ya to come with me."
She looks down and to the left. He licks his dry, chapped lips. The wind had
been rough on them during their expedition. "I promise to be good to you."
She gives him a sideways glance, clearly not ready to call him a liar.
But she was certainly thinking it.
"At least let me try ta prove it."
She runs a hand over her light blue hair. "I will never have sex with you."
He nods. He doesn't like it, but he doesn't want to let her go.
"I want to share my language with you."
"I learn quickly."
When she huffs softly, he can practically hear the, I bet you do.
"I will not be your Yona."
This is the one he agrees with. "You'll be free ta leave if things don't work
out."
"You can't sell me to a brothel."
"I never even thought of it."
She stares at him, her irises are grey-blue, incredulous and frustrated. "What
d'you want from me?!"
There's only one word he can think of in response: "Everything."
When he extends his hand to her, she's reluctant to take it. He escorts her
back to her room so she can gather her things.
"I can't bear you children."
" 'Specially since you're not havin' sex with me." He lets out a little more
snark than intended.
She looks at him, unable to fathom his intentions.
"Your mother won't like me."
"And I don't like her choice in lovers, either. So she and I'll be even."
The Tarshish throws a garment at him, it lands over his face. The garment is
soft, and he notes the white silk with gold accents when he pulls it from his
head. "Looks like you've been livin' an expensive life."
She huffs again. "When you make up to two hundred quint a night, you can afford
it."
"I'll bet some nights you don't make anythin'."
"Not with the other women trying to make a living, stealing customers."
"I can't promise this kind of expense. But I can promise that you'll never go
hungry. That no one will hurt you again. That you will always have clothes to
wear and a bed to sleep in." His gaze doesn't waver while he speaks. He wants
her to know that he wants her in spite of the fact that she's Tarshish. In
spite of the fact that she's lived a long time this way.
"I can't repay you."
"No," He says. "You can't." But I'm not asking you to, Hangs in the air between
them.
xXx
The rest of the family is silent when they regroup and Chikotsu isn't alone.
Sech looks her up and down before smiling in a way that isn't entirely
friendly. "I didn't think you had a thing for handsomely paid women." Whore, is
actually what Sech means.
And while he could be offended at the blond's snide comment, Sech's dislike for
the people in brothels is more of a reflection on what he feels about himself.
And Sech is practically his brother.
He throws her things at the other man. "Now you get to be the pack animal."
xXx
When she stands naked before Sasayo and Chikotsu, the latter man feels guilty.
She's endured some sort of torture. There's scarring from flogging, small
burns, and more scarring over her lower abdomen.
He's pretty sure the scarring is from surgery.
Sasayo doesn't have an inkling of doubt as to what it is. "How many times?"
"Twice. The second one nearly killed me."
Chikotsu doesn't quite follow the implications. But Sasayo's expression becomes
grim. "Did you ask for them?"
Her arms wrap across her midsection, shoulders coming up to her ears. "No."
"Was the last successful?"
She meets his eyes, tears are running down her face like rivers. Chikotsu wants
to assure her that she's safe now. That these promises he's made, he will keep.
She takes a deep breath. "Yes. But there are consequences."
"The sign of your womanhood?" She looks away. "I'm sorry to hear that." His
tone is soft, empathetic.
"They took out your womb?" Asks Chikotsu, drawing himself up to his full height
in outrage and anger. "Why would they-"
"It's not her womb, son." Chikotsu is still baffled. But Sasayo shakes his
head. "You will understand soon." But he isn't ready to let his son be aware of
just how dark the world is. Not yet.
He is slow when he removes his gloves, tightening the carefully wrapped Jiira
on his right wrist.
Checking her hearing and vision is simple enough, her throat a little more
difficult.
"Okay?" He asks. She nods.
His hand hovers over her bare skin for a moment before gently coming into
contact with her. She still flinches, but there's enough warning there that she
isn't flighty.
Chikotsu takes in her slender throat, barely existent breasts, and the average
cradle of her hips. She's voluptuous for her kind, shapeless for his.
But she is, for reasons he can't articulate, attractive to him.
"What's your name, Tarshish?"
"Iris."
"That's very..." Sasayo searches for a word.
"Human," Says Iris. "A Human friend of mine gave it to me because she couldn't
pronounce what everyone else called me. My Master and clients were never given
this name."
xXx
Chikotsu can't help but feel pleased when she sits next to him at evening meal.
He twirls his eating utensil, a long, thin wooden stick with a sharp end,
around in his fingers.
Sech sits on his left, eyeing him with incredulity. "If you hit me with that,
I'm going to be pissed."
"Maybe I should," Snarks Chikotsu.
Sech rolls his eyes and picks up his own eating utensil, carefully placed on
the plate before him.
With a sly smile at Iris, Chikotsu goes to hit Sech with the blunt end, the
blond blocks and goes to poke the redhead in the side only to be parried.
Denii, the blond's mother, sits to Sech's left and gives them both a scathing
glance. "None of that at the table."
"Yes, mother," They say in unison. She makes the same face Sech does when he
feels someone is being immature.
xXx
The evening ends on a pleasant note. Chikotsu takes Iris back to the room he
and Sech share in the massive cabin built by his father and the Clan long
before his birth.
Sech won't be back for another hour or two, spending time with his mother and
sister.
He pulls off his clothes and she watches him, muscles strung tight.
"What is it?"
"I said I wasn't going to have sex with you."
"And I said okay." She gives him a wary glance. "I get too hot in sleepin'
attire, too cold without the blanket. Sleepin' in the natural is relaxing for
me."
She's still scowling. He lays down. "Please come here." She's reluctant but
does as asked. The bed is spacious enough that they can lie side by side with a
few inches between them. He is sure to stay on his side with his back to her.
He wants her to be used to his presence, but has no intention of being
invasive.
xXx
Weeks go by this way, he leaves with Sech when his Pack goes to battle, raid or
hunt, then comes home, always surprised she's still there.
She never wears her silks, only the same clothing of animal skin or skillfully
woven fabric he does.
Her feet are too soft to travel the same paths he does without foot coverings,
so he brings those to her as well.
When her clothes are worn, he teaches her to patch them.
Kendai, Chikotsu's sister, teaches her to make them.
Sech and his sister, Omel teach her things, too. Like cooking and hunting, and
anything they can without the older members of their Clan finding out.
And then one day, she wakes up, her back pressed lightly against his, and
realizes what they're planning for her.
She knows she should run. Tell him it's over and apologize that all of his
effort was for naught.
But where could she really go?
Back to her people? She doubts any of her kind would marry a barren non-virgin.
The other Full-Bloods would kill her. Or worse. No, she ought not take those
chances.
The Humans were a possibility. But they would likely yield results that were
little better than trying her luck with the Full-Bloods, considering how often
Humans were raided by them.
Chikotsu shifts a little more. His warmth is nearly stifling. His touch almost
intense.
And yet she doesn't move.
She has been fending for herself - in her own way - for a long time. And she
loathes to admit it, but she likes the fact that Chikotsu clothes her. That he
ensures she's fed and allows no one to harm her.
That he takes care of her.
Any Tarshish she could say that to, would go to war, gladly, with Chikotsu's
family.
And she would be hung.
He shifts again, rolling over. She scoots forward to give him room. He sighs, a
warm, damp breath against her neck and shoulders.
"Are you really going to just stare at the back of my head?"
"It's pretty. I've never seen hair like yours."
She rolls over to face him and can't help watching his slitted pupils expand.
It isn't the first time she's garnered that physical reaction. But it is the
first time she gets butterflies over it.
It increases when she realizes his gaze flutters over her face. It doesn't
rake, or penetrate. He doesn't look at her bare throat or the blanket that has
been pulled low in her sleep.
He's looking at her lips, the soft skin of her brow, following wisps of her
hair that are in her face, stuck to her cheek from sleeping on it. "You
actually like me."
His lashes flutter, his surprise is accentuated by lines, the color of his
hair, under his eyes. "What?"
"You do," She whispers.
He shrugs with the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Yeah. I do." He meets her
eyes, pupils expanding just a touch more. They could nearly pass for those of a
Human's. "I wouldn't promise to care for you if I hadn't meant it."
"What if I can't love you?"
"I'm not askin' ya to."
They lay there for a little while longer. Iris isn't sure if it's only for a
few seconds or several minutes. There's stubble growing on his jaw, strands of
his hair have fallen into his face, a few of them cross his eyelashes.
He smiles. "Like what you see?"
She huffs and smiles back. "Hardly. Your face is too busy. All those freckles
and the tattoos, plus that mouth of yours. It's too distracting."
He leans in a little and she leans back. "No way, Morning Breath." Her tone is
playful, her eyes anything but.
She rises slowly, the blanket falling into her lap and exposing her pert flesh.
The peaks of her bosom are a little darker than he always expects them to be.
"They're fake, you know."
He feels guilty for looking. "Did they make 'em smaller?" He's pretty sure they
wouldn't even fill the palm of a Human, let alone his own.
He still doesn't know why he wants her so badly.
She sighs. "Bigger."
"So, do Tarshish women not have breasts?" It slips out by accident, his own
reaction to his words - A grimace. A flinch back - is obvious that he didn't
mean it as an insult.
She hits him with her pillow. "Not really. Not til we have Little Sparrows to
take care of."
"Sparrows?"
"The Humans," She says, "they call our children Sparrows. Have since the Old
Ones." She stands as he pulls the pillow from his face.
"Did you want a Sparrow?"
She pauses, the pale skin of her back to him. "I did." Her voice is a whisper.
"But I will never be able to have any for myself." She sounds resigned, open.
And he realizes they've finally found something he can't give to her.
When she's dressed and gone, Sech rolls over. "You picked a bad egg, brother of
mine."
"We never could have had any Sparrows anyway. It's like a minnow and a snake
tryin' to reproduce. It just doesn't happen."
Sech cracks open an eye. "Admit it. You're disappointed."
"A little. But I knew what I was signin' up for the moment I decided to bring
her home."
Sech fully looks at him, laying on his stomach and angled towards Chikotsu.
"You should know, people are talking. That mother of yours is far from happy."
"And I'm far from happy that she's sleepin' with Aseir."
Sech is giving him one of those calculating looks that means he's not about to
like what's being said. "She's Tarshish."
That's all? Thinks Chikotsu. "Yeah."
"Which means she has one of those weird inclinations that Fall-Backs have."
Chikotsu knows he's giving Sech a funny look.
"She's playing you, Red. Been playing you from the start."
Chikotsu can feel his hackles rising, it's an effort not to bare his teeth to
his brother. "No."
"See how you're reacting? That's probably a symptom of the charm. She went with
you - wasn't afraid of you, because she knew you wouldn't hurt her."
"Sech. That's enough."
"She's getting a free ride. And what do you get? Nothing. You get nothing,
Chikotsu. Just used - strung along and heartsickness."
Chikotsu isn't sure if Sech is being genuine or sees something he himself could
get out of it. Sech has his moments where everyone is easy pickings, his only
ally is himself, and Chikotsu is simply just another easy mark.
But Chikotsu puts up with it. Maybe because Sech is his closest friend. Maybe
because it makes him feel better about himself and pity Sech.
He sighs, stands and pulls on his pants and gloves before leaving.
xXx
"I would like you to marry me."
She blinks at him like the big birds of prey they have around. Her lips form
the words but nothing comes out.
"I know it's probably odd to you. But, I think that maybe you aren't opposed to
it."
Several minutes pass and he starts to feel like he's a cub again, under the
gaze of his father and unsure of what to do with himself.
A small, delicate hand with long fingers lightly touches his. "Okay," She says.
Sasayo frowns when Chikotsu brings Iris and the dark purple Jiira to him. Their
ceremony is practically in secret. Their wrists, his right, her left are bound
together with separate ends of the long fabric.
Knife paused to cut the thin strip in the middle, he asks, "Are you sure?"
The look in Chikotsu's eyes when they meet Sasayo's strikes the older man like
lightning. Iris is composed. She's sure, but she doesn't look all in.
Chikotsu loves this Tarshish, this scrap of skin and bones.
So he cuts it. Secures the loose ends tightly so they don't unravel. If they
unravel within the week, the marriage is, according to old superstitions,
doomed.
While he isn't superstitious, others in the Clan are. And they will have to go
through hell and high water, the last thing they need is a superstition hanging
over their heads.
The marriage is doomed anyway. He doesn't think he can stop the Females of his
group from killing her in blind fury.
Especially Shiseken.
Sasayo bids them to leave for a week, to take Sech, but to give him no word of
what was going on. He sends them to an old safe house once used by Humans.
Sech takes up a room on the furthest part of the safe house.
He doesn't know why everyone is even bothering. It isn't as though his wife
will make love to him. No. She will do little more than stand nude before him
when it's required of her for some reason or other. Rarely kisses him or
touches his hand. And maybe Sech is right.
Maybe this woman has charmed him.
When she comes to him that afternoon, dressed in her fine silk, he can't stay
suspicious. She's beautiful. Breathtaking and sweet.
When she stands within a foot of him, looks up at him, it's all he can do not
to take her into his arms and profess his love. He wants to worship every piece
of her. Wants to consummate the bond and let himself be devoured. If that is
what she wants to do to him, he is more than happy about it.
But she steps away before he can touch her, before he can bare himself for her
to either kiss gently or sink her teeth into viciously.
His disappointment must have shown in his eyes, her hands come up slowly, rest
against his face. The softness of her eyes is an apology.
He doesn't need her love to live. But he doesn't want to live without it.
***** The Truth We Hide *****
Chapter Summary
     Sorajin and Kieve meet another pair.
     Takka and Renjin have a discussion.
Sorajin is, for lack of a better word, frustrated.
The massive buck he and Kieve have been hunting all day, has been finished off
by another.
A Tarshish, no less.
He's thin, a fedora on his head covers his grass green hair that still sticks
out in some places, bangles on his wrists jingle when his hands move. And he's
smiling at them when they come into the clearing.
He doesn't actually care about the deer. "I see you've found us." His voice
grates on Sorajin's nerves.
Kieve scowls, drops the line of small, fluffy animals they've already killed
and collected. "Come on, man. We tagged it first."
The man rolls his eyes. "Don't be such a child. Even one six winters old can
appreciate the first-arrive-first-to-take rule."
Sorajin can tell Kieve is trying to decide which cards to play. But the
obsidian black the Tarshish is sporting and the style of armour he's wearing,
tell Sorajin that there are few cards to be played here. "Where is your
Master?"
The Tarshish only smiles.
A body collides with his, knocking him to the left and it takes him a moment to
realize the person atop him, hissing all sorts of foreign swear words, is
Kieve.
Even underneath the leather of Kieve's hand in Sorajin's face, a set of rings
glow - a gift from Renjin. The hand lifts out of his vision and sends the other
Tarshish dodging out of the way.
Sorajin is pretty sure he has dirt in his mouth. "Are you hurt?"
"How long are you going to lay there and expect me to defend you?"
Sorajin rolls onto his back, hands sliding up Kieve's sides. The look of
concentration on the Yona's face is one he's familiar with.
Kieve glares at him. "Master," His voice is so full of poisoned sugar, the
younger man finds it kind of funny, "just what the hell do you think you're
doing?"
"Checking to make sure you're okay."
"We can play doctor later. We've got bigger problems than your teenage libido."
Sorajin rolls his eyes and slides out from underneath the older man. Kieve
actually is hurt, there are cuts along his upper arm and hip. But Sorajin
doesn't worry unless Kieve isn't mobile.
He doesn't have very long to watch Kieve and the other man attempt to exchange
blows, though.
He rolls to the right as something flies through the air near his head. Kieve
would be pissed if Sorajin let himself be harmed so early on.
Turning, he's face to face with a man a few years younger. The freckles and
green eyes are familiar to Sorajin. "You're part of the Toko Clan."
The boy says nothing, merely brandishes his weapon, a staff with a long,
serrated blade at the end. He isn't playing around.
When he rushes Sorajin, the older man turns a step, grabbing the pole under the
blade. He turns back to deliver a blow but the Toko beats him to the punch -
literally.
He's thankful Renjin has taught him how to be at the right angle so he isn't
killed by the force.
He is having a hard time breathing through the pain and he's really quite mad
that he's going to have to explain his bloody clothes to Renjin.
Kieve slides back, knees soft and still on his feet. He's got a gash that's
bleeding pretty freely.
"Eyes over here, imposter," Hisses the Toko.
Sorajin turns in time to block the strike to his chest, the bones in his arms
complain. "What do you mean imposter?"
The boy sneers. "That's what you are." His leg swings up in a powerful kick
that Sorajin knows is in his best interest to dodge. The Toko's heel barely
makes contact with his arm, but in a few minutes, there's going to be an ugly
bruise there.
He finds himself back to back with Kieve, who's out of breath and furious about
it. "Do you know how messed up this is?" He asks. "The only person better than
me is Maque. Maque, damnit!!"
"Well, now there are two people," Says the Tarshish. "And I'll give you a name
to help with your ranking system." He's so smug, Sorajin thinks about taking
his head off. "Mercy. And in a moment, you're both going to be screaming my
name."
"I don't know about you," Says Kieve, "but that is the sluttiest come on I've
ever heard."
"Not now, Kieve."
Well," He draws out the word, "how about now!" They part, Sorajin sliding under
the pike and aiming up, Kieve playing telekinesis with his fancy rings.
The pike falls out of the boy's hands. But a well timed stomp to Sorajin's
abdomen has him clenching his teeth so he doesn't scream and shakily clutching
the Toko's ankle, hoping he hasn't ruptured any organs yet.
The boy hisses and pulls back quickly when his leggings catch fire.
Sorajin hadn't actually wanted to use that gift, but it seems his only option
at this point. It's blindingly painful to move.
There's a strangled scream and Sorajin knows he has to get up.
"I see you find my little trick quite electrifying," Says Mercy.
Get up, Something deep inside Sorajin screams. Get up. Get up! But he isn't
healing fast enough.
Kieve is going to die because of him.
He's going to die a year away from freedom.
Sorajin knows he might have to kill these two.
With the snap of his fingers, a wall of flame shoots up between himself and the
Toko. He manages getting to his feet, but the pain is intense.
Seeing Kieve writhing is worse though. Mercy stands over him, watching like
he's not torturing someone from his own Race. Like they don't come from the
same boat.
Sorajin has only been this angry once. He isn't really aware of what he's doing
until Mercy himself is screaming, the smell of burnt flesh clogging his nose.
Kieve has come back to himself. "Sorajin."
He ignores Kieve. Mercy claws at his hands, the leather is burnt away, strikes
him with blow after blow but he doesn't let go. Not even when he feels the
electricity tear at his skin. His insides. No, this trash has to die.
Kieve stands, sways, in his peripheral. "Sorajin." His hand goes to the younger
man's shoulder. "Sorajin, stop. You're killing him."
His eyes meet Mercy's panicked gaze. He wants himself to be the last thing this
Tarshish sees.
He doesn't expect to be doubled over, gasping and holding his midsection while
Kieve pushes Mercy back several feet. "Run. And don't you ever come back," Says
Kieve. "Or next time, I'll let him finish you."
Sorajin punches Kieve in the kneecap when both of their opponents have left.
"You son of a bitch."
"My father was the bitch. For the record."
"Why did you do that?"
"Because you never wanted blood on your hands. You never will. And scorching
someone to death? Fuck, Sorajin. That's as bad as electrocution!"
"Why didn't you finish him then? Why did you let him go, Tarshish?"
"Don't bring my Race into this," Says Kieve, rising slowly to his knees.
Sorajin can see him trying to hide his trembling.
"It's true though, isn't it? You Tarshish foil the plans of everyone else. You
fuck everything up and then you don't defend yourselves when the Full-Bloods
come to steal, kill, and destroy your people."
Kieve stands. "Are you telling me I asked for this?" The flashbacks, the
slavery, their precarious relationship, and everything in between.
Sorajin stands up straight too, meets his eyes. And it's in that moment,
Sorajin knows he's destroyed everything between them.
"For your information, Human," Kieve's long middle finger pokes him in the
middle of his chest, "I wasn't taken. My mother never did anything to anybody.
She died giving birth to me because a Full-Blood overpowered her and she was
too good of a person to save her own life and end mine. She couldn't fight him
off. Nobody could. Then they sold me because I was a dirty Half-Breed those
same nobodies wanted nothing to do with." He pushes Sorajin. "And don't talk
like I'm the fuck up. I take floggings for you. I do all the dirty, under the
table shit your pathetic Human morals don't allow."
He should never have taken out his frustration, his cold fear, on him. "Kieve."
"And don't look at me like that either. Do you actually even call me that when
I'm not around? Am I just some joke to you? The Tarshish you rescued and pity
until you're bored and need something to tear the wings off of?"
His hands go to take one of the Tarshish's gloveless hands between his. "Kieve,
stop."
Kieve pulls away, the rings on his fingers are glowing, a not-so-subtle warning
to back off. And Sorajin feels anguish that he's reduced them back to Tarshish
and Human. To Yona and Master.
Behind Kieve's closed lips, he clatters his barbell against his teeth. His
pupils, usually the size of a large pinhead, are pinpoints now. His dark purple
hair is sticking up in a way that would be comical if Kieve weren't so hostile
right now. The buck lays a few feet from them. Sorajin wishes they could just
go back. That he could go back to when they were sneaking through the forest
and talking smack like kids and Kieve didn't think there was anything between
them.
Didn't think Sorajin has been like everyone else from the brothel.
Even though he's being open, letting Kieve see his thoughts on his face, the
Tarshish isn't softening up like he usually does during arguments. He gets
colder, his eyes put up a thicker barrier.
Sorajin's heart twists. "Kieve. I-"
"Boys," Takka sounds like she's in as good a mood as Kieve, "get your game and
let's go."
The muscles in Kieve's face twitch as he looks to the right. He's not going to
pick up the buck. Or the forgotten line of animal meat on the other side of the
clearing.
Takka slams her staff against one of the large trees. "I said let's go!"
With a scowl, Kieve picks up the buck like it's light. Sorajin picks up the
other creatures they've caught.
Sorajin follows Takka and instead of walking abreast like he had been doing,
Kieve follows at the distance a typical Yona would.
The Second doesn't say a word as the rest of the hunting party joins them.
Many of them are still blood thirsty. Excited. Takka hits with her staff any
she catches pushing or shoving, any who say something to start a fight. And
this is unlike Takka, usually pretty mellow and tolerant of others.
When they enter the gates, Takka throws her game into the arms of one of the
hunting party and stalks off. Sorajin hands his game off, too and goes to speak
with Renjin for advice, only to find that Takka is already there.
"You lied to me. To everyone."
"We both know that I lie when it will pay off. You sound as though I've done it
simply to step on you." Renjin's tone is calm, tinted lightly with confusion.
"You said you had no children before this. Before Sorajin and the twins."
There is silence for a long moment. "Because there aren't any."
"Then explain the boy that came with Dashiir."
Renjin's voice becomes exasperated. "I can't because I wasn't with you, Takka."
"He looked like you."
"There are at least three different people with similar features to mine. What
do you want me to say?"
Sorajin can envision Takka's brows, plucked to perfect circles, drawing
together in anger. "You may be our leader, but I'm still a good twenty years
your senior. You will tell me the truth or you'll be very sorry you crossed
me." Takka could actually overthrow Renjin. Turn their people against her and
get her killed even by the people Renjin trusted. But Sorajin doubts Takka
would do such a thing.
It's easy to picture Renjin's eyes as downcast. Her voice is soft. "I did. But
it is dead."
Takka slams her hand onto Renjin's desk.
"I handed it off to Humans. The village that took it in was decimated by plague
four months later. It couldn't have survived."
"Stop calling the child it."
"What do you want me to call the cub?"
"Didn't you look at the cub's sex?"
Sorajin listens to the tension practically crackling in the air. Renjin's voice
drops. "No."
Takka's voice drops lower. Dangerous. "Did you look at the cub at all?"
"Once. Right afterwards. Then it opened its eyes and looked at me."
"And?"
"I wrapped it in blanket. Covered its face."
"You were going to smother the cub?"
"I thought about doing worse. But I just..." A shakey breath. "Takka, I..." I
couldn't, Sorajin hears in the words Renjin doesn't say. "When I would go to
smother..." The baby, Sorajin can practically see Renjin gesturing with her
hands, "it fought me, wanted to live as badly as I did." Renjin never could
snuff out the life of someone that fought her against all odds. That
desperately wanted to live. That's why she loved Sanchu. That's why Takka was
her right hand.
Why Kieve had been largely untormented.
He's slow to back away so they don't notice him there.
"Sorajin," Says Renjin when he's crept a few feet away. "I don't like stealthy
people."
He is sheepish when he pokes his head around the door, Takka is in Renjin's
space, radiating violence. The younger woman ignores her, looking older than
normal, worn. "You will tell no one, not even Kieve, what you know."
"Okay," Agrees Sorajin. "But what was so wrong with the baby that you wanted it
dead?"
Renjin's expression twists in what might be self loathing or misery. "It looked
too much like its father."
Renjin has always opted not to discuss her life before Sanchu. In fact, while
he can formulate a good timeline between Sanchu and this moment, everything
before that is carefully blanked out.
There are a few things other people say, the older people of the Pride call her
"Minnow," the Skin Walkers always make some allusion to a Half-Breed she once
knew. Then there are the whispers. But he tries not to listen to those.
Those make him want to ask questions that would get his throat slit.
"And just who was he?" Takka shifts a large stack of scrolls on Renjin's desk
so it looks a little neater.
Seconds become minutes and Sorajin realizes that she doesn't want them to know.
That she's already let herself be pried open enough and she isn't going to
budge any further.
Takka meets her eyes again, expression stern.
Then Renjin turns to him. "Was there a reason you came in, Sorajin?"
"Yes, I..." Sorajin pauses, Renjin draws herself upwards, expression patient.
Which is unnatural as hell for her. "I changed my mind. It's not that
important."
Renjin looks like she's trying to read him so he stays as relaxed and open as
possible. No, it isn't about the baby, He tries to wordlessly say. I'm not
judging you.
It's worrisome, but not shocking that the woman he'd come to like, maybe even
love, would kill her own.
He's worried that she might kill the children she's had with Sanchu. Because he
doesn't know the circumstances of the first one.
She blinks slowly, dismissing him.
"Thank you, Madam." Her eyes soften. And he slips out of her office.
When he steps cautiously into his own quarters, Kieve is there, laying with his
back to the doorway.
He's still slightly twitchy. But Sorajin isn't sure if it's from Mercy's attack
or old habits.
Sorajin kneels behind him, resists the temptation to touch him.
Kieve shifts his head slightly, his breathing is no longer slow and deep. "I'm
sorry for the things I said. It was wrong. And I can't unsay them." Kieve's
shoulders tense. "Go ahead. Say what you need to say."
The older man sighs. "I'm so mad at you." Is all he says.
His hand is gentle when it tangles in Kieve's hair. "I thought Mercy was going
to kill you. I lost it. And then you let him get away. I couldn't take my anger
out on him. And part of me thought maybe you had wanted to die."
Kieve rolls over, still wary. "You need to realize that we all die. And it is
my obligation to lay down my life for you."
There's a burn there, in Sorajin's chest. The idea that Kieve would die, not
because he wants to, but because he has to, is a painful one.
"I will probably die in front of you, Sorajin. And I think you need to start
trying to be okay with that."
"You aren't replaceable," He insists.
Kieve smiles, but his eyes are sad. "Is that the lie you want me to believe or
the one you tell yourself?"
***** Set In Our Ways *****
Chapter Summary
     Inan thinks she has a personality issue.
     That something happened before they met her and now part of her wants
     to help them but the rest of her is consumed by greed.
When Lillith wakes screaming in the middle of the night, Keava makes her a pot
of tea, careful to apply the herbs that bring rest.
Because her Master is restless on a good day. Absolutely unbearable on her
worst.
She doesn't ask why Lillith is this way, perhaps, doesn't even want to know.
Her thick, curly hair that ends at her knees is difficult to tame. Keava thinks
she may have been pregnant once or twice, but has never seen a hint of
children.
This morning, Inan, Hajeer, and Keava sit at a table, bleary eyed and waiting
for the tea to finish sifting through the filter. Lillith is silent as a spirit
when she enters, sitting at the head of the table and looking at them with one
of those rare airs. Her hair is pulled back into a messy braid that looks
ethereal because of her curls.
None of them speak to her. They're too tired. Too frustrated with the lives
they were conned into.
"I'm sorry I've put you into this situation," She tells them. Her voice is
softer, lighter. Less like her.
Keava runs a hand through her long earth-coloured hair.
Hajeer draws his lips to the side, pursing them.
Inan drums his fingers on the table. "You should put more training into our
weaponry and literary art then."
Lillith sighs, drawing her eyebrows - plucked to perfect circles - together.
"You're right."
Inan and Keava share a look, Hajeer folds his arms on the table.
The fact that Inan is a Fall-Back means that if he stops being a prostitute,
their funds will be cut by over half. They'll have to find other work. The trio
wants to do more than lay on their backs all day and late into the night.
They've done this for three years now. They're sick of it.
But this isn't the first time they've had this conversation with Lillith.
Inan thinks she has a personality issue. That something happened before they
met her and now part of her wants to help them but the rest of her is consumed
by greed.
By the end of the day, they'll be back to the work they hate.
xXx
"I think we should kill her," Inan says on their break. He's smoking a pipe
with some sort of tobacco in it.
The smoke covers the overwhelming smell of sex and makes Keava feel sort of
dreamy, less angry at their situation. "That's a horrible way to show
gratitude."
"She's been making quite a bit of quint off of us and we only see a small
percentage of it."
Hajeer sighs. "But Lillith has lived this long. How easy is it, really, to kill
her?"
Inan looks at them from the corner of his eye. "What you don't seem to notice
is that there's only one of her and three of us. Hajeer, she stole your
virginity. Keava, she lied to you."
Inan is right. Lillith promised to smuggle Keava out from under Kenjin's hand
and into freedom. Not sexual slavery.
"And you?" Asks Hajeer. "What did she do to you?" Hajeer had been a kindly
temple boy, not really aware of the ways of the world. So when Lillith had
lured him in with promises of godliness and knowledge, he never saw it coming.
He'd earned knowledge, but not the kind he wanted.
He once asked Keava to pray for his soul because he was still bitter about it.
Keava had told him that one day, that bitterness would bring him fortune. This
only baffled him.
Inan takes another long drag on his pipe and sighs through his nose, the smoke
that billows out and the dark gleam of hatred in his eyes makes Keava think of
a mythological creature her mother always swore existed and would eat her if
she didn't eat her greens and abstain from sexual practices of every sort. "She
exchanged what I needed with what I wanted."
Hajeer gives him a strange look.
Keava finds his response cryptic and would probably hit him if it weren't for
the fact that she knows exactly what he's talking about.
Inan is addicted, almost hopelessly to opium.
Lillith had caught on to his plan to leave as soon as he had the funds and
began slipping opium in his tea until he couldn't function unless he had his
morning tea. Eventually, she revealed what she'd done specifically to mock him.
He tried leaving, but his affliction was too much to withstand. He is ashamed
of himself, furious at Lillith.
Although he once confided to Keava that he might be ashamed with it, but the
shame of his situation is nearly unbearable without it.
"Where will you get what you want if she's dead?" Asks Keava.
Inan shakes his head. "It won't matter."
Those words carry a heavy forebodence for Keava.
"I think we should just leave," Says Hajeer. "The god I serve would be ashamed
of me if I murdered someone."
Inan cants his head to the side and turns his face to Hajeer. "Don't be stupid.
You commit sexual impurities every two hours, thirteen days a week."
"Sex and murder are different," Says Hajeer. "Sex can be used for good. Murder
only brings about evil."
Inan turns back to his pipe. Keava can hear the servant girls, too young yet to
be making any quint, cleaning the Entertainment Rooms for another use.
She leans her head against the wood of the House and closes her eyes. She
doesn't want go back inside, but her break is nearly up.
xXx
When Keava awakes from a dead sleep one week later, she knows what's happening.
There are men outside. Inside, too. They're coming to shut down the brothel.
She's quick to dress and go quietly into Hajeer's room to wake him. But he's
already awake, staring out the window.
"Let's get the hell out while we can."
Hajeer shakes his head. "Not me. I have to die here."
Keava's mouth opens but the door creaks open, Inan slipping inside. "What are
you two dumbasses still doing here?" They both blink at him before he grabs
both of them and begins leading them from the the room.
Hajeer struggles, weakly strikes at Inan's wrist. "Leave me, I beg you," He
says. "You were right. I have profusely sinned and should be punished for it."
Inan glares at him. "Not by death. Atone when we get out."
Keava, at this moment, remembers how attractive Inan really is under all the
smoke and hate and false charm.
He takes them through their only way out, Lillith's chambers, pausing when they
come across her still sleeping form. "How can she sleep through all of the
racket they're making?"
Hajeer let's out a shakey breath. "I fixed her tea."
Inan and Keava stare at him. "Hajeer?" Asks Inan.
Hajeer's voice crackles. "I sent communications to the leader of the raiders."
Inan pulls back as if burned. "You could have gotten us killed!"
"I'm sorry!" Says Hajeer. "I was going to tell you but I was scared she'd find
out somehow!"
Then Lillith sits up. "I knew you were a box of worms."
With care and dexterous fingers, Inan pulls a knife from his sleeve. "Takes one
to know one."
When she stands, her staff materializes into her hand.
He lunges and she blocks, the rounded end of her staff knocking him in the jaw
and Inan only just manages to catch himself and stay standing. He bursts
forward as she kicks out, forcing him to abort the momentum and jump back, he
staggers and she thrusts the end of her staff into his shoulder with enough
force that he gasps, dropping the blade and hitting the floor.
There's a long pause as the sound of men getting closer forces them to consider
their options. Inan knows they can't stay for much longer. The men are too
close.
"Come with me and I will protect you from evil," She says.
Hajeer hesitates. But Keava darts towards the knife, the end of the staff
strikes her where neatly where her waist tapers, and she loses both her breath
and her balance. There's another pause as Keava tries to regroup and Inan
weighs his odds. Lillith watches them, waits for them to surrender.
Inan rises slowly, almost simultaneously with Keava. They both go for Lillith,
Inan dancing out of the way of her staff as she swipes at him and dodges
Keava's attempted strikes to her vital points.
Hajeer jumps into the fray with the knife but Lillith twists to the side and
out of the way, increasing his momentum so Inan has little options for evading
the blade.
He hisses as it sinks into his arm.
Hajeer's mouth begins to spout apologies like a geyser but Inan pushes him out
of Lillith's path and rips the knife out. "Shut up, Hajeer." Is all he can say
before he's struck in the breastbone, the knife slips, goes clattering to the
floorboards once more and Keava goes for the back of Lillith's neck.
The older woman whirls around, bringing the wooden staff with her.
Hajeer attacks her with the knife once more. This time, she throws her staff at
Keava and grabs Hajeer's wrist, twisting it around so the blade meets his flesh
in the stead of hers.
There's a moment in which Keava hears someone screaming Hajeer's name before
she realizes it's herself. Lillith's full, red lips brush against his forehead
before letting him drop, gasping and choking, to the floor. She then plucks the
knife from his throat and cuts his shirt open. "I never thought you would be
the one I'd have to make an example out of."
His eyes are wide as his hands clutch at her.
"I know," She says softly. "It'll only hurt for a minute."
A circle draws itself around them, slowly. Like the death sentance already
being carried out.
"You were my favorite, you know." The point of the knife slits his midsection
open and the gurgling scream makes both Inan and Keava try to break the sealed,
invisible barrier with desperation.
"Please!" Cries Keava, fists pounding against it the rippling barrier. "Please
stop!"
"Take me instead! Stop! You're killing him!"
Lillith looks up at Inan. "You would die in his place?"
Inan takes a slow, deep breath. Keava is horrified at the very idea that Inan
is simply full of bravado and false promises. "Yes," He whispers. "So take my
blood instead."
Lillith smiles, looks like she might take him up on it. "You really care, hmm?"
"I do."
"Enough to quit opium?"
"Yes. I'll quit. Beat me when I think about it. Do whatever you want. But heal
him, please, before he bleeds out."
Lillith smiles wider. "I knew I could break that strong will of yours."
Inan is both struck and desperate, mouth open and closing. Looking for
something appropriate to say.
"I'm proud of you." She burries the knife hilt-deep into Hajeer's chest before
standing. "Let this be a lesson to you, children."
And then she evaporates, the barrier with her.
Inan and Keava both cling to Hajeer as the light leaves his eyes.
They stroke his hair, his face, hold his hand and touch foreheads.
And then their world is colder and darker than it was before. "I feel like a
failure," Says Keava.
"You aren't alone," Says Inan.
They wrap his body so his organs don't topple out during transport and slip out
the nearest window
They don't talk after that.
Not when they bury him.
Not for the days after.
There's nothing to say.
When sweat beads Inan's brow, even in the cool weather, Keava knows they're in
trouble. His mood dampens too.
He can't eat without sickness.
And then he stops getting out of bed as fever overtakes him.
The trembling is horrible and he can do nothing but clutch his blankets as the
withdrawal takes him.
Keava can only do so much, work wise. It's not enough to keep food on the
table. Not enough to keep a roof over their heads.
So she turns to the only option she can think of.
It's frustrating that they made it out of Lillith's strong fingers, only to
slip back into the vice she loathed.
xXx
"Should I get you opium?" Keava asks, finally caving while he's gasping and
shaking on the floor. He's followed her out of his room to stop her when he
finds out where she's going. Inan looks both incredulous and pleading. Like he
wants to stop both his symptoms and addiction.
He wants her to stop.
He still doesn't speak.
xXx
When he's finally past the last of it, he begins work. A small shop that
supposedly specializes in items used for people with special abilities.
He competes heavily in tournaments held for Tarshish and Fall-Backs. He isn't
bad at first, but he certainly isn't good.
Keava still sells herself occasionally for a high price.
"You should stop," He says to her as she begins to step out the door to see her
next client. It's been months since he's spoken and his voice is more
pleasurable to her than any touch or kiss she has received. With the exception
of Hajeer's.
Those are the sweetest of all.
"The quint we make isn't enough."
"Then I'll work harder. But don't go out again."
She's torn. This month's rent is looming large and she doesn't believe Inan can
cover it.
But ignoring Inan will make him feel slighted.
"Just one more," She says.
xXx
"I think we should part ways," He says to her a week later.
She looks at him, expression quizzical. "Why?"
"Because you keep making money in a dishonest way. I'm sick of it."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Not this."
She raises her shoulders. "Do what you have to do. But I have never been on my
own."
When she wakes the next morning, she's alone in the house. Inan doesn't come
back.
xXx
The first child that appears on Keava's doorstep is a surprise. The second, a
frustration. But there is nowhere for these toddlers to go.
So she keeps them.
She receives letters from Inan on occasion, they detail the things he has been
doing. The Humans in the neighboring towns call him Father because they've
never seen anything like him. Therefore, he must be a god.
They offer him virgin women as payment for protection. She isn't able to find
out if he marries any of them, but she is relieved to find that his abilities
have increased drastically.
People start gradually leaving more children in Keava's care. And, as they get
older, the temptation to do to them what Lillith did to her rears it's head,
grabs hold of her and refuses to let go.
Men ask to buy the virginity of the eldest children and, with the bills getting
higher every few months, it becomes harder and harder to turn down.
As soon as she can, she hooks the children into jobs that don't involve sex.
They see very little of the money they earn, but Keava assures them it's worth
it.
Eventually, though, she runs out of space so she moves them to an abandoned
monastery, fifteen children and three young cubs.
It's always a struggle to train, teach, love, and work.
Keava feels like she's drowning in her responsibilities. When asked, she tells
Inan of her plight.
Two days later, five women appear in her territory, sent by her old friend.
They've each given their purity to Inan, therefore, Human men will not marry
them. Her load is lightened dramatically.
And then he sends her a pair of children. And she thinks she might wring his
neck the next time she sees him.
One of them is half Skin-Walker. He should have been smothered the day he was
born.
But there he stands, chattering away like he isn't an abomination. Bright eyes
and an innocent face.
"Nachte and I saw all sorts of things on our way here," He says. "Did you know
Humans come in different colors? I didn't."
The boy beside him, Nachte, rolls his eyes. "Of course they come in different
colors. Everything does, Jezreel."
"We don't."
"Yes, we do. We also come with different builds."
Jezreel frowns. "Stop using hard words, Nachte."
"Stop acting daft, Jezreel."
Keava sighs. She couldn't possibly kill the boy now. There's too much potential
in his stride. His stance will be easy to fix. "Come inside, boys."
Inan wouldn't have sent them to her if he didn't feel they would serve his
purposes.
She'll just have to trust him.
***** Asking For Trouble *****
Chapter Summary
     Renjin learns more about herself than Triska or Jezreel....
Chapter Notes
     Oh my Doitsu! I'm past one hundred hits! I never actually expected
     that! Thank you!
At the small table they sit around, Renjin realizes that she loves these two
morons.
Even Jezreel.
Especially Jezreel.
"It's really quite unrealistic that you could have this much misfortune," He
says. His eyes are so light in colour that if he weren't looking deep into her
soul, she'd think he was blind.
He sets a wrapped forearm on the wooden table, hand painted by Triska.
Her forehead is on the table, fine, blonde hair running down her shoulders. A
few wisps curl on the table, creating golden swirls. They accentuate the blues
and red-pinks and greens and stark black. Renjin thinks she's sleeping.
"Our Good Father must have big plans for you."
Renjin gives him a look. "Stop that."
Jezreel tilts his head. "Stop what?"
"That whole 'Good Father' thing. There is no god. No higher being."
Jezreel's eyes are sympathetic. "You sound like you're sure of that."
Renjin looks at her hands. "It's the only thing that makes sense."
Jezreel takes her hand but his grasp is feather light. Renjin's insides
flutter. She wonders if she's getting sick. "I believe that The Sinful Mother
has led you astray with your pain," He says.
"Why is the woman always bad in religion?"
He looks at her with compassion. She wants him to lean closer. To press his
palm more firmly against hers. "Religion doesn't always find women Evil. You're
not." She smiles at the fact that he doesn't find anything wrong with her.
"Triska isn't." She suddenly feels very guilty for some reason she isn't really
sure of.
When she glances at Triska, her eyes meet one of the other woman's. Jezreel
can't see it, but Triska's eyes are cold.
And Renjin, for the first time, feels protective of a man.
She doesn't want Triska alone with him. Because Triska has the eyes of a woman
able to commit murder.
xXx
Jezreel sighs as he throws down the last blanket in front of the fire place. "I
hate these winters."
Triska flops onto the pile of blankets, Renjin wonders how much that probably
hurts.
Jezreel settles himself beside her, wraps an arm around her as she curls up
against him and lies her head on his shoulder. When Triska's eyes meet hers,
there's a strange mocking look Renjin doesn't understand.
And then Jezreel extends his free arm to Renjin. "Come here, Grumpy."
With a huff and an eye roll, she plops down next to him. "I'm not tired."
"Molk shit," He says. He's smiling so she thinks he's referencing their first
conversation. "Come here."
Curling up against him with her head on his chest is a strange, surreal thing.
The winter has been colder, more bitter than any they'd had previously, so
huddling in blankets in front of the fire is all they can do.
She's nearly lulled to sleep by Jezreel's slow, consistent heartbeat when she
begins to feel watched. A glance up at Triska reveals that murderous look from
a few weeks ago. Guilt and a sick sense of pleasure rise up in Renjin. She
doesn't understand any of this.
xXx
When she wakes in the night, Jezreel has left their pile of blankets. He paces
the floor in the kitchen, looking for something - desperately, by the sound of
it.
He hisses a breath out through clenched teeth when she stands in the doorway to
the kitchen, his back is to her but his hands are flexing, tendons straining.
"Triska." His voice has a strange gravelly quality to it. His body is
shuddering. "Triska. I swear if you don't tell me where they are, I'll-" He
whips around, planning on tearing into Triska, Renjin is sure. Her heart jumps
both to her throat and down to the floor.
His bared teeth are elongated, there are white patches on his skin that look
like fur. His bare hands have sprouted claws at their fingertips. And something
is different about his eyes. Then he realizes who is actually there. His eyes
are wide, eyebrows pulled together. "Renjin..." The fur recedes, teeth becoming
less... animalistic. His eyes reshape themselves to regular almond. "I'm
sorry." Renjin wonders if her own eyes are wide..
"I'm sorry," He says again. "I didn't know you were awake." His body is still
shuddering slightly, claws finally receding.
"Was that," Renjin searches for a nice way to put it, "Was that your true
form?"
There's an intense amount of guilt on his face. "Yes. I.... I didn't mean for
you to see that."
"Are you okay?" She knew what he was, that he was likely able to do that. His
real form, albeit not in the full, might have been scary, but Renjin knew he
wouldn't purposely hurt her.
His expression is slightly strained when he smiles. "Yeah. Triska hid my bottle
of Sahkmeh. I'm kinda frustrated about it."
She takes in his person for several seconds. "You're hurt."
He scrubs his face with a bare hand. Renjin takes in the details of them.
They're different than women's hands. Thicker, more durable, perhaps? "Go back
to bed, Renjin."
"Where are you injured?"
He passes by her, his skin is clammy when his arm brushes against her.
"What's wrong with you?" Renjin persists, following him down the hall as he
goes through cabinets and cupboards. "Are you sick?"
Finally, he turns to tower over her, eyes shifting back to a more menacing
shape. "Go back to bed."
Renjin stares him in the face. "Stop trying to bully me."
"I'm about to bend you over my knee and give you a lesson on obedience."
She can see that he's losing control of more than his temper. The shuddering is
worse now. Sweat drips down his face.
Something is wrong. "Are you dying?"
His hand snaps into the air for a strike and Renjin, full of old habits, drops
to the floor before he can lay that hand on her.
They stay that way for long seconds.
Seconds become minutes.
He lowers his hand, eases to his knees, and gathers Renjin in his arms. "I'm
sorry," He whispers into her hair like a mantra. "I'm so sorry. No, I'm not
dying. I'm not sick either." When he stands, he sways slightly. His skin is
cold but he's still sweating profusely. He still smells like illness.
Her arms wrap around his neck. "What's wrong?"
He shakes his head as he sets her on her feet. "I need to be alone right now."
Renjin goes back to the pallet and lies down. She stares at the ceiling as she
listens to Jezreel searching the house for his 'Sahkmeh.'
He eventually showers before coming back and laying down between them. Renjin
pretends to be asleep as he strokes the middle of her hair. She takes deep
breaths, inhaling as deeply as she can, the way Jezreel smells. Clean with that
heady, distinctly male scent. Some part of her wants that smell on her skin,
too.
"I'm going to break every joint of every one of your fingers if you hide my
medication again," He whispers to the empty air.
"It'd be nice if you would willingly hand it over," Triska whispers back.
"Renjin saw me tonight. Do you know how wrong that is?"
"Maybe you should learn to control it better."
"Maybe you should keep learn to your hands off my meds."
"Sometimes, I wonder if you're lying when you claim to love me," Says Triska.
"Sometimes," Says Jezreel, "I'm aware you're using me."
xXx
It's a few day later, when Renjin gets home from a shopping trip, that Triska
is cooking while Renjin puts things away.
Two of Triska's fingers are in splints.
In the back room, Jezreel is merely a large lump in the blankets.
She leaves him be.
His scent is all over the place, mixed with something that makes her stomach
turn and something slide down her spine like liquid.
The liquid feeling is similar to the way she felt for Chiikets before- She
rakes her nails along her arm, the pain keeps her mind from wandering any
further.
xXx
When Renjin gets up in the middle of the night, she notices that Jezreel and
Triska have both left her alone in the covers.
Creeping back in after relieving herself in the outhouse, (which she actually
despises, thank you very much) she finally comes across them in the back room.
Triska is pinned against a wall by Jezreel's weight. At first, Renjin is
terrified for Triska, disgusted with Jezreel. Then, she notices Triska's arms
around his neck as his hips roll slowly against hers, how high her leg is
positioned on his waist.
The scent from before wafts over her, leaving her tingly in places she doesn't
much think about.
Triska's mouth meets Jezreel's with urgency, hips meeting his thrusts.
It takes Renjin several minutes to realize the dirty thing she's doing.
And her envy of Triska.
***** Exchange *****
Chapter Summary
     Tand is dishonest. His youngest daughter, Ruuka, has decided that
     she'll allow it.
     For now.
Chapter Notes
     So, I was considering breaking these up into a series instead of one,
     chaptered fiction. Thoughts?
Ranka's wedding would have been a beautiful affair if it weren't for the
impending knowledge that Renjin would soon find out.
"Goyuun," Says Ruuka, "won't she be furious that we handed off our sister to
another man?"
He looks up from his work, sharpening the blade that would be used to cut the
Jiira. "Her Promised should have been her daughter. But she has brought about a
Human son. There is no good reason to reserve our beautiful, most talented
sister for bad blood."
Ruuka resists the hurt she feels.
She is the youngest child. And therefore, at the bottom of their hierarchy. The
only one lower than she, is her half-brother Tishta. The product of her
father's affair with another woman.
He's hated amongst them.
 xXx
Many of them eat and drink and celebrate Ranka's marriage to Sho. But Ruuka
can't seem to push past her anxiety that the Toko Clan will certainly not take
kindly to their best fruits being given to another.
Her eldest brother isn't drunk, not even tipsy, as opposed to many in the area.
This makes her anxiety triple.
The second youngest sister frequently seeks his affections, unable to get
attention from their father who only ever seems to care for his oldest
children, but Ruuka is terrified of what he might do to her.
She wants to ignore him when he stands beside her. "You don't appear to be
enjoying yourself."
"I fear the consequences."
"Maybe you should relax a little. Let go of this constant thinking business."
His touch on her arm is light.
She shifts away from him. "Unfortunately, I haven't any control of that."
"Ah, but we are more than capable."
"I wish you would control yours, then."
Surprise crosses his features. "Ruuka."
"Goyuun." She could be punished for talking back to her brother. But she won't
let him hurt her.
He eventually backs off, not really interested in Ruuka's fierce attitude.
xXx
She is pleased when her Father visits her, bringing with him a new Mokk'et and
a nose piercing like Ranka's, signifying her maturity and eligibility for
marriage.
After her nose is pierced, he gently slips her Tiloam into place, lets her run
her fingers over the silver chain, before settling the Mokk'et around her neck,
hair, and the lower half of her face, mindful of her tender nose. She absorbs
his affection like a dry sea sponge to water.
"Good?" Her father, Tand, asks.
She nods. "Thank you for my gifts."
He smiles. "I would like to ask for something small in exchange."
Ruuka can't repay him enough for the scant attention he's given her.
"Anything."
"Until you're married, I want you to pretend to be Ranka."
And then she realizes this is really just a ploy. A horrible, evil plot to
trick Renjin.
Ruuka is going to die.
Her father pats her head, but all it is to her is empty. He doesn't actually
care for her, he's just trying to ensure Ranka lives long enough to reach full
potential.
Ruuka promises that she will never trust another, only ever look out for
herself.
So she'll be Ranka.
But only long enough to get what she wants.
***** Separation Makes The Heart Grow Fonder *****
Chapter Summary
     Keava has unknowingly allowed two of her students to commit a
     practice she isn't fond of.
Chapter Notes
     Have another chapter, ah?
     Serious Girl/Girl here.. I have the hardest time writing it...
Thorne has never really thought about sex.
Okay, so she has. But Keava has drilled it into them since they were young to
keep their thoughts pure.
She always thought Yorea, had an easier time with it. Because Yorea has been
better at everything since forever.
So when, in the darkness of the meditation closet, Yorea's hand slides over her
thigh, she's startled, but doesn't think much of it, continuing her prayers.
Yorea appears to be doing the same. Until mile long fingers glide under her
skirts.
Thorne nearly leaps from her skin. "Yorea?" She whispers, if it weren't for the
chill if the other woman's hand, she would think she was imagining it. "What
are you doing?"
Her eyes open, revealing gleaming light purple. Thorne, having grown up with
Yorea, still finds those eyes unnatural.
They don't break eye contact while Yorea's fingertips slide upwards.
"What if Madam Keava sees us?"
There's a long pause, Yorea's finger tips rub small circles on her inner thigh.
"Are you uncomfortable?" Her voice is deep from trying to keep it low. But
there's something in the undertone.
Thorne shifts slightly. Unsure if it should be towards Yorea or away. Did she
want to stop? Wasn't this wrong?
Yorea had never cared much about women before, what was different now?
Thorne runs her fingers over Yorea's thin wrist, wonders idly if it is hard to
be something other than Human. Thorne doubts she's a pure Full-Blood. "You can
touch me," She says. "But, I don't know if I can return the favor."
Yorea stays on her knees in the small, dark space. But she still manages to
turn to face Thorne, who can't see anything other than those eyes. "You don't
have to."
Thorne wonders if Keava would sell Yorea if she caught them. She's pretty
enough.
They'd probably kill her.
Fingers press gently against the apex of her thighs and she jumps at the
contact. She's both mildly irked and greatly relieved at the fabric that keeps
Yorea from flesh.
Yorea rubs her fingers up then downward again, testing Thorne's reactions. This
continues for a few minutes, Yorea's slow strokes creating a slow heat in her
nether regions.
Thorne gasps when the fabric is pulled aside, thinks it's a little frustrating
that Yorea can see her, every twitch, every expression she makes, but all
Thorne sees are her luminous eyes.
Deft fingers press against her clit, roll slowly. She's only able to bite her
lip and gasp. Yorea pauses, waits for any indication that Thorne is
uncomfortable before she eases a finger into the entrance below. Thorne groans
but yelps when her friend slaps a hand over her mouth. A reminder that Keava
could be just around the corner or the people in the closets on either side
might hear them, it makes heat pool low in her belly.
She nods and the other woman's hand draws back, fingertips tracing her lips
before gently pressing inside.
She shivers and sucks slowly, unsure if this is really what she should do. A
second finger presses into her folds, gradually growing slicker. Thorne's hands
go, reluctantly to the younger woman's breasts.
The fingers in her mouth pull out, push her hands away. "Don't do it if you
have to force yourself."
"But-"
"But nothing." Yorea's fingers crook in just the right spot, sending Thorne
doubling over and clutching at her.
xXx
This goes on for weeks. And they get so close, they're practically the same
person. Keava doesn't seem to notice. But she separates them, sending Thorne to
work with Chante on pushing back the Exiles.
Yorea is sent to learn everything she can from Inan.
They're separated for two years, all the while, keeping a correspondence.
And Thorne, missing her best friend, begins to fall for the woman sending the
letters.
When they meet, they have to learn who the other is all over again.
They sit in a garden, in the Neutral Territory of the Trading Grounds.
"I've missed you," Says Thorne, her hands fiddling with her scarf Mokk'et.
Yorea smiles. "And I, you."
There's a tenderness that Yorea never thought Thorne could posses when her
mouth finds the younger woman's.
When Thorne draws back, looks into Yorea's eyes, she knows there's more to it.
They sit there, forehead against forehead, eyelashes lowered, enjoying the
company of one another.
"I won't be able to love you the way you need," Says Thorne. Her breath is
sweet on Yorea's lips.
"I know," Yorea says. "You'll always be my best friend."
Thorne looks up at her then, lips stretching into a small smile. "And you'll be
mine."
It's weeks after that Thorne is pulled aside by Chante. "You're not focusing on
the task. What's going on?"
Thorne shrugs. "I miss Yorea."
Chante pauses. "What do you miss about her?"
Thorne thinks about it for a moment. "Her smile. The way she says 'tomorrow.' I
miss the way she laughs and the way she looks when she kisses-" And she
realizes she needs Yorea. She doesn't want to live without her. Chante's
expression is knowing.
xXx
She puts in a transfer request the next day and begins a long journey to see
the woman she loves.
They don't hide their relationship from Inan. And he says nothing of it. Some
are disgusted by it. Some follow them around and ask to watch.
Yorea laughs off any who approach her. But it isn't so easy for Thorne.
It's when they're laying in bed one lazy morning, Yorea stroking her hair out
of her face, that she realizes that what other people think means nothing.
Her lips brush against Yorea's with new vigor. "I love you," She whispers
between kisses.
Yorea doesn't reply.
She doesn't have to.
***** Wanderer *****
Chapter Summary
     Haven is forced to adapt in new circumstances.
     Nachte won't leave him hanging though.
Chapter Notes
     I actually didn't expect to have another one ready this early.
     Never doubt, some chapters come easier than others.
When Haven awakes, he aches. Like he's been exercising for two days straight
after years of inactivity. There's a man standing over him, mopping his
forehead with a wet cloth.
A trio, two girls and a boy stand away from him.
The man speaks slowly. But Haven hasn't a single clue as to what he's saying.
He runs a gloved hand through Haven's dark hair, eases a pair of glasses onto
his face. How the man knows he needs them, Haven will never know.
"What happened?" He asks the man. When he sits up, he feels dizzy.
The man hands him a cup, filled with water, supports him while he drinks.
"Where am I?"
The man frowns, listening intently but still unable to comprehend.
He looks towards the trio, speaks again. "Do any of you speak English?
Espanol?"
They look at him with concern. No one says anything.
"Okay," He says. "So there's a language barrier." He's slow to get off the bed,
the mattress creaking under his weight. "I can try to work on it." He points to
himself, "My name is Haven." Then points to them.
The older man points to himself and enunciates, "Nachte."
The boy points to himself. "Luca."
The dark haired girl steps forward. "Kira."
The last girl smiles shyly at him. "Rozolyn."
They seem nice enough.
Rozolyn chatters non-stop while she shows him around the house. He really can't
distinguish one word from another, the way she speaks.
After two days, he learns, 'room', 'food', and 'no.' (When he tries to leave
the cottage.) He also notices that the words Nachte uses are slightly
different, some are very different.
He realizes, eventually, that Nachte has a different dialect. Which is weird,
and mildly frustrating.
It's a week later that Nachte brings him out into the warm sunlight. It burns
his retinas, but Nachte won't let him turn back, the trio follow behind him.
There's a tree with branches that hang low with a strange white fruit. Nachte
hoists himself from branch to branch, dropping the ones he finds acceptable,
before climbing down.
Haven finds the fruit impenetrable. The trio have no issue with it, much to his
chagrin.
Nachte seems to notice, holding out his hand to Haven, he uses the word for
'Give.' When he does, Nachte sinks his teeth into the hard shell, it makes a
crackling sound, like that of an egg.
He breaks off a piece of the shell and hands it to Haven. He tries to bite into
it but only hurts himself.
He shakes his head at Nachte, holding his fingers to his mouth. Nachte shrugs,
peeling the fruit with methodical fingers before passing it back to Haven. The
shell crunches as Nachte eats. It reminds Haven of potato chips.
Or the crunching of bones.
The fruit is sweeter than any he's ever tasted, hinted with citrus.
Nachte sits, hands never touching the ground, and opens his own up and showing
Haven the seeds. He peels one open with his nails and offers it to Haven.
The seed has a mildly bitter taste but he feels more relaxed after eating it.
xXx
When Nachte starts wearing his gloves again, he insists that Haven wear them,
too.
"I don't get it," He says to Nachte, then tries to say, "What's the big deal?"
In their language. But Nachte just looks at him strangely. Luca laughs.
He, too wears gloves.
So Haven reluctantly wears them. Rozolyn's shirts have high, stylized collars,
Kira wears a choker.
They never seem to take them off.
"Don't they annoy you?" He tries after a week.
Nachte looks at him strangely again, so he repeats himself. The other man
narrows his eyes and Haven wonders if he's just said something offensive.
Then he tilts his head and says, "Sometimes."
Haven just about clutches him by the arm in his excitement that there's finally
a hole in what seemed to be an impenetrable barrier. Nachte smiles in good
nature, not even sure why Haven is, suddenly, in such high spirits.
xXx
It's in the middle of the night, two weeks later that he hears scratching and
whining at the door. His dog is there. "Jillian."
She whines and tucks her tail.
He lets her in, takes her back to his room. She sleeps on the foot of his bed.
In the morning, he lets her out. When she returns, Nachte watches her with
concern and curiosity, like he does everything Haven-related.
She creeps up to him, ears and tail tucked back.
He doesn't move as she sniffs at him and whines again. Rozolyn crouches near
her, extends her hand. Jillian sniffs, then licks it timidly.
"They won't hurt you, girl."
But Jillian is dead set on thinking otherwise. She refuses anything Nachte
offers her, which is fine with the white wolves that inhabit the cottage.
The biggest wolf, called Monavere, is constantly eyeing Jillian, ears twitching
this way and that when she makes noise.
There's something awfully strange about Monavere though.
"Is there someone else watching the livestock?" Kira asks him one morning. The
wolf huffs through his nostrils and draws himself up further, as if offended.
"Sorry," She says. "Pull the squirrel out of your ass, huh?"
His ears twitch when she says, 'squirrel,' but he remains stoic other than
that.
The other wolves don't seem to have the same demeanor or intellectual ability
as he does, either.
Haven wonders why this is.
xXx
It's when he's coming down the hall, days later that he hears a deep, man's
voice speaking to Rozolyn. Their voices are low, But when he creeps around the
corner, he finds a large man with white hair sitting across from her.
"Are you really going to let Renjin do what she wants?"
"Monavere, do you really want to go to war over something so miniscule as her
choice in who gets to power play?"
"I'm telling you, Roxoi is a bitch. And not because she's a female canid."
"Let our Minnow figure it out, then." Rozolyn's voice takes an aggravated edge.
"Roxoi has a vendetta against me. She will try to talk Renjin into taking
everything from us," He insists.
"And if that is the case, we'll kill her. It shouldn't be too hard for you to
sink your teeth into her throat."
He leans back in his chair. "So we wait? That's it?"
"Yes, we wait."
Haven doesn't look forward to the coming weeks.
***** Eyes That See *****
Chapter Summary
     Chiikets doesn't always make the best decisions...
Chapter Notes
     So, after an error while trying to edit, I've had to repost this
     whole damn thing. Sorry guys.
Finally, he's at a point where he knows each of his family members inside and
out. And realizes that Kajiim, while naturally quiet, has likely had something
happen to amplify her personality.
Her training with her cousin, their Ess'en, is a good sign. But it's worrisome
that she avoids Chante.
Her trust in him needs work.
He pauses to watch Kajiim and Honjin train, they dance around the clearing,
exchanging blows and notices one of his young men watching intently.
He is unaware when Chiikets approaches him. "They're like works of art, aren't
they?"
The young Male jumps, Chiikets bites his lips together in effort not to smile.
"Y-Yes, Sir."
The boy is lanky and lean. He likely won't be able to hold his own when they go
to battle.
Kajiim will have to wait.
"Which one is it that you've taken such interest in?"
A hint of red colors his cheeks. "Kajiim, Sir."
That was a surprise. Honjin was typically quite popular amongst the single
Males in the area. "You plan on having her?"
The young man fidgets, hands in front of him, head down in submission. He
appears to think Chiikets will knock him one should he say the wrong thing.
He's probably come from a Clan with a domineering Male, bent on ensuring he was
the only one to mate with the Females.
Chiikets glances at the girls again, debates what realistic thing he can say
that is still encouraging.
"You'll have to put in a lot of work for that one." The boy's gaze shoots up to
meet his, an act of surprise but not challenge. Chiikets thinks nothing of it,
softens his eyes and body language so he isn't a threat, to show that he means
what he says. "And when you get that girl," He hopes his word choice is noted ―
When. Not if, "don't ever make her evade you."
He'd seen it plenty in his time out from under Kenjin.
"And something you can do to earn her, let her want to stay with you, is to
ensure your survival." A little incentive never hurt anyone. Especially not a
young Male on the cusp of his prime.
The boy tilts his head. "Will that be all she wants?"
Chiikets shakes his head. "No, Son. But it helps. She can trust that you will
always return to her."
"But how can I get better? Stronger?"
Chiikets takes him in, looks at his stance and recalls everything he can about
the boy. "You excel in the rain and wet conditions, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir."
He glances over to Kajiim again, looks her over, recalls what he can. It's not
very substantial. Mostly what he's observed or received from Honjin or Chante.
"She doesn't do very well in the rain." He remembers instances in which she's
had to be out in it. "You can compliment her weakness with your strength."
The boy is still puzzled.
Chiikets loves the excellent timing in his life. They're coming into the rainy
season. "I want you to learn how to give the weather a little push."
The smaller man gapes like a fish. "But I'm not a-"
"Not manipulate or control," Says Chiikets. "I know what you aren't." He draws
the boy away from the girls. "But all that matters is what you are. So learn to
just give it a push this way or that."
"That'll impress her?"
Chiikets resists the urge to roll his eyes. He would have if it weren't that he
remembers being young and smitten, too. "Probably."
"But who can I learn from?"
This gives Chiikets pause. "Work on your training with Chante, show Kajiim's
Estarred that you're worthy of marrying her. And I will look for a teacher for
you."
The boy nods, turns to do as he's bid.
"And Sasayo?"
The boy freezes, spins around to face his Leader. "Yes, Father?"
"Remember to love her for who she is. Not who you want her to be."
xXx
It takes a hefty amount of will to be able to sit beside his Chosen quietly.
She takes her time to acknowledge him. One of the few things she has any real
control over in regards to her Leader.
When she finally pauses in her note-taking, finally glances his way, this is
when he is allowed to speak with her. "Sasayo needs a teacher."
She returns to her note-taking. Thankfully, once he is acknowledged, he can
expect that she is listening. "Do you suppose Kiren would be suitable?"
"What is is you want him to learn?"
"To use the rain for his gain."
She looks at him fully this time. "He's a water type?"
He nods.
Shiseken thoughtfully rubs a hand over her stomach, already grown taut with
their child. "I will ask her."
"Thank you."
She leans over and presses her lips against his cheek.
There are a few women that also bear his children. The difference is that she
not only became pregnant with his child first,
but she is the only woman he loves.
Thus, the complication their life is. If any of the other Females give birth
before she does, they will ascend in rank.
He strokes her hair, runs his thumb gently over the fabric around her neck. He
wants to make love to her. But he has work to do.
She turns fully to him once more, hands taking his between them before pulling
his glove off with her teeth. His breath catches in his throat.
And he has to draw away before he feels the pull to ravage her.
"I can't." It comes out breathless. He's reluctant to pull his glove back on.
But when he stands, her scent is heady and his desire comes back full force.
"Change of plans. We have a few minutes."
He's gentle when he lifts her onto the table, her book of carefully crafted
notes and her ink well are pushed aside and his gloves slip off. Her Mokk'et
comes off as her long, slender legs pull him closer.
xXx
When he comes to speak with Kajiim, he's met by Laniika, the second Female to
bear his child.
She has to wait for his acknowledgment and he's quick to give it, only ever
using his patience when he must.
"I wanted to speak with you about Asheer." Asheer has always been a problem.
She's capable and strong, "She's showing aggression to Kiste and I," but power
hungry and quarrelsome. It doesn't help that he didn't lie with her much this
Season.
"I will deal with her," Says Chiikets.
Laniika smiles, settles her hand lightly on his arm. "Thank you, dearest
Brother."
"Sister, it is the least I can do."
There's only mild intimate touch between them before he must face Kajiim.
He crouches a beside her, a few feet away, resting his elbows on his thighs and
awaits her acknowledgment. He has no intention of scaring her or doing her
harm.
She looks up from the sharpening of her thin sword, settles it beside her.
"Walk with me," He says.
She stands, sheaths her weapon at her hip, and obediently trails behind him.
His meek, tied firmly to its post, lets out a squeak when he nears it, the
rounded ears on top of its head twitch and its long tail, with a tuft at the
end, swishes back and forth.
"Yes, yes. I know you're excited," He says to the creature. It's been gnawing
its post in what might be boredom.
The other meeks squeak, some let out short barks when he nears them.
When he releases it from the post, it presses the top of its head into the
crook of his shoulder and begins clicking.
Kajiim smiles in his peripheral. In the Fall, this stupid creature had
repeatedly tried to mate with him - in front of the entire Clan. And, being
bigger than him, almost succeded had Kajmir not taken it by the reins and pried
it off of him.
Shiseken kindly pretended not to have seen it. Chiikets' pride had been pretty
well wounded after that.
Can't win everything, Chiikets supposes. The meek allows the riding gear to be
situated onto its sturdy body, only nips at his arm when he draws the strap too
tight.
Kajiim strokes the fur along its snout. "Does she have a name?"
"His name is Stupid."
She frowns. "Animals have feelings, too."
"I'd call him something else if he hadn't gotten much too in touch with his."
She turns away from him, probably trying to hide how funny she had found the
situation. The only people really brave enough to blatantly laugh at him were
Kajmir and Asheer.
Kajmir because he was Kajmir and could get away with anything. Asheer because
she had the power to do so and wasn't afraid to try to take him on, even if
chances were high she'd lose.
"I'm sorry," She says. "It isn't funny to be accosted in such a way."
"I think that, with more time, it'll be funny to me as well." He boosts her
onto the creature before easing up himself.
The animal cranes his head back to them. Kajiim strokes him behind the ears. He
squeaks in what Chiikets believes is pleasure before loping in the direction
Chiikets bid.
Kajiim is anxious to be this close to him, he can practically hear her heart
beating as fast as a yoksa bird's wings when it's spotted prey.
"I wanted to speak to you about your Estarred." Chante is the oldest amongst
his siblings and cousin, a position of honour and leadership.
She tenses against him, stays silent. Now he regrets taking a beast of burden
instead of leading her on a walk.
He cannot see her face.
"Your relationship isn't good?"
Kajiim's shoulders draw up as she tries to get some space. He shifts, gives her
a few inches.
The animal takes one of the trails of its own accord, one that loops back to
their living space. He should stop it, steer it to the traps that have surely
snared game by this time, but he doesn't want to give Kajiim the opportunity to
pretend neither of them have spoken.
"Is he angry with you over something?"
Kajiim shakes her head. Her voice is soft as a butterfly's wings. "No, Father."
He spends several minutes debating whether or not he should really pry. If he
should let blood matters stay blood matters. "You are unhappy with him?"
Her shoulders droop, hands fidget. "I am."
"Then we should fix this. It isn't good that you don't trust him."
"We can't fix it, Father," Kajiim's voice is shaking. He's pushed her far too
hard. And he is angry with himself for not realizing it. "What's done is done."
He wants to stroke her hair, but that's too intimate after the lines he has
just thoughtlessly crossed. His hand on her arm is light, a calculated gesture.
"But that doesn't mean he can't learn from his mistakes."
"Sometimes, even learning isn't enough atonement."
"Is he aware he has done you wrong?"
Kajiim nods.
"And has he expressed a desire for forgiveness?"
Her breath hitches.
Chiikets' heart hurts with hers. "Sweet Kajiim." His hand rubs down to the
crook of her elbow before drawing up again. "Daughter, forgiveness is for you.
Not him. It sounds cruel, but it doesn't matter if he wants it or not. You only
hurt yourself, if you withhold it." Her head drops back against his chest.
"Unforgiveness makes you bitter. Full of hatred." And he wishes someone had
given this wisdom to him at her age.
Her eyes open, but they aren't looking outwards. "We know that is far from who
you are. You are a lovely girl, unfit of such dark things or this melancholy."
She takes a shuddering breath, is looking at him now. "You can't possibly
understand."
He meets her eye, prays no one sees them like this, realizes taking a meek was
a horrible idea. "Maybe not. But everybody has had a hard life. And you see
what happens to those who choose bitterness."
She lifts her head upwards, he leans his away so he isn't hit on accident.
He will not look around to check if anyone has seen them. That makes him appear
guilty all the more.
"Are you bitter towards Kenjin?"
Chiikets spends a few moments in thought. "I try not to be. Forgiveness is
necessary, even for him."
"And Anayo?"
"Especially Anayo."
Her hands stroke the fur behind the meeks ears. "But you still think they
should die?"
"You can forgive someone and still do the right thing."
"And killing them is right?"
He notices Honjin watching them, clenching the strap of her bag at its place in
the center of her chest in a white knuckle grip. "Is there another way to stop
them from hurting anyone else?"
She doesn't answer as he slips off, helps her down, and takes the meek to its
post. Honjin is still watching them. Her gaze prickles at the back of his neck.
When the animal is tied up again, and he's removing the riding gear, she says,
"We can imprison them."
His hands freeze mid pull of the buckle. "We could." Then they resume their
work.
"But you would rather kill them. Does that make you bitter?"
He opens his mouth but has no real answer to offer. When he meets her eyes,
there's no intent on winning, just observation.
Surely it isn't bitterness, He thinks. A strong offence is the best defence.
Isn't it?
***** An Ungrateful Captive Set Free *****
Chapter Summary
     There's something in Kieve's stance, the look in his eye and the
     noticeable... Something in his hands and spine. "Read the scroll."
Renjin's family is sitting at the table for afternoon meal, sipping tea and
discussing their next moves. Sanchu drums his fingers on the table, watching
Renjin's slide over the map with intent.
"I don't like it," He eventually taps out, just a quick cadence of his
fingertips.
"What do you advise?" Asks Renjin.
Sanchu actually knows this area better than she does, the area to the West. His
village had been there until Anayo's people razed it and tried to turn the
Humans into nothing more than cattle.
He takes a few moments, examining the map. Renjin bites her bottom lip, trying
to reign in her impatience.
There's a commotion in the adjoining reception room, things being knocked into
and people speaking quickly. Sanchu and Takka stand, Renjin doesn't even look
up, still plotting their route.
When Kieve slides open the door, breathless and dripping perspiration, Sorajin
stands, too.
He throws the scroll in his right hand onto the table. It slides, crinkling and
bunching up the map.
Renjin glances up at him, peeved at being interrupted. "Someone had better be
dying, Tarshish."
There's something in Kieve's stance, the look in his eye and the noticeable...
Something in his hands and spine. "Read the scroll."
Renjin takes her time opening it, the seal is already broken. She scans over it
once. Twice. "This is a good opportunity for you."
She slides the scroll to Sorajin.
It's signed by Inan. "The resident god wants to disciple you?"
"How would you like me to reply?"
Renjin and Sorajin share a glance.
"Say you'll be available two months from now."
Kieve gives her the strangest look. "Two months?"
"Sorajin didn't tell you?"
Kieve's eyes bounce between Sorajin and Renjin. "Tell me...?"
Sorajin remains standing as Sanchu and Takka sit, watching them with mixed
expressions. Renjin's eyes are empathetic and yet guarded.
"I'm getting married in two months."
Surprise gradually becomes understanding. Sorajin can see the walls coming up
again, can feel his heart aching a long with his lover's. "You're free the week
before."
Kieve shifts from one foot to the other. "Free?"
Renjin pulls something from her threadbare, patched messenger bag, slides an
old scroll across the table to the Yona. "Open it."
Sorajin comes around the table, pushes a chair where he thinks it ought to be
just as Kieve wordlessly drops into it. "Free." His voice is shakey, clogged,
and it hurts Sorajin just a little that his closest friend will be gone like
the wind at the first opportunity.
Kieve's hands aren't shaking. They're trembling. "Did I do something wrong?" He
looks back and forth. From Matriarch to Heir.
Renjin shakes her head. "Sorajin has intended your freedom from the start."
There's so many fleeting emotions, Sorajin can't catch them all. The
reoccurring ones are betrayal, anger, joy, and utter incomprehension.
He tosses the scroll onto the table and puts his head between his knees. At the
bottom of the scroll, is Renjin's signature, signed with her own blood.
This is more binding than a normal signature.
Sorajin's is there, too.
"Kieve?" His hand is light when it settles against the older man's shoulder.
But Kieve bursts upwards, to his feet, rings glowing through the leather of his
gloves. "You kept me in the dark this whole time!"
"I know."
"On purpose. You purposely misled me, you Naresuanic sadist."
Takka and Sanchu stand in unison.
"You should calm down."
He rounds on Takka without a second thought. "Shut up, you two-faced bitch!"
Renjin's eyebrows draw upwards. "You're always so ungrateful."
"I thought I would be serving you people forever. That every year until my
death would go to you. And I didn't mind it. I was okay with it-"
"I wasn't," Says Sorajin.
Kieve turns back to him, hackles up. "Then why didn't you tell me?!"
He steps into Kieve's space, Renjin stands now, too. She obviously thinks this
is a bad idea. But Sorajin ignores them, drops every single barrier, taking out
his wooden hair pieces and letting his armour drop to the wooden boards under
their feet.
Kieve has an even harder time keeping his own guard up.
Sorajin isn't afraid of being hurt. Not because he doesn't think Kieve will
hurt him, he seems to expect it. But he is willing to be hurt, to show himself.
When he stands in only his under clothes, hair grown long, draping like dark
silken curtains to his shoulders, he raises his hands to Kieve, wanting to
touch his face but keeping a distance.
And it strikes Kieve just how much their roles have reversed in the last year
and a half.
Sorajin has wanted to be close to him. Hasn't wanted to let him go.
He leans his head forward, into his Master's hands, reluctantly drops what
barriers he can, and listens for Sorajin's reason.
"I didn't want it to taint every interaction. I wanted to know you. And you,
me."
Kieve is gasping with an emotion he can't name. "I could kill you for this."
Renjin moves to stand nearby, intent on keeping the life of her heir.
But Sorajin doesn't move. He merely widens the space between his bare feet,
strengthening his stance. "And, you would be justified. But I think you would
be better off gritting your teeth for now."
Kieve won't meet his eyes, Sorajin withdraws his hands.
Kieve snags both the correspondence from Inan and the contract with his fate on
it and leaves just as quickly as he came, not even looking back.
"Should have put him in his place," Says Renjin.
"It wouldn't be love if I only wanted him under my hands."
Renjin gives him a look that says she clearly disagrees.
But it's no matter of Sorajin's.
xXx
Weeks pass and Kieve is cold, distant to him. And as much as it hurts, Sorajin
knows it's for the best. Kieve pushing him away will make his transition
easier.
Hopefully, it won't leave Kieve distrustful and bitter towards everyone.
When Sorajin sleeps, he dreams of Kieve lying next to him, the smell of his
skin, his warmth and thin frame draped over his own. And with every day that
passes, he longs for the other man. Hopes that Ranka is an affectionate woman.
When Kieve's release date is only a week away, he finally comes in and lies
next to Sorajin.
He holds his breath, afraid any movement will destroy the illusion he's in,
leaving him with nothing but his longings.
And then the apparition rolls over, looks at him. "I'm sorry," It whispers, its
breath fans against his skin. He's still too afraid to move in any way. "I
wasted what little time we had left being angry at you."
Now Sorajin rolls to face him, touches his face. "We can still make the best of
it." Kieve kisses his bare fingertips.
Kisses him more sweetly than he has in the past.
And, oh gods, Sorajin soaks up every second, commits these moments to memory
because he may never have this - may never see Kieve - again.
Kieve will, as far as Sorajin can tell, never be under Sorajin's protection
again.
There's a soft slide of skin, someone moans and Sorajin isn't sure who.
"Fuck," He gasps, pulling away from Kieve's mouth. "Too hot."
"Slower?" The Yona asks.
"We've got all week."
Kieve leans his forehead against Sorajin's. "It feels wrong. Surreal."
Mouths meet again. Fingers tangle in each other's hair. Kieve presses open-
mouth kisses over the dark haired man's neck as legs wrap around his waist.
Sorajin's right, they can make the best of a week.
***** Knowing What He Knows *****
Chapter Summary
     Orro should know better than to ask deep questions when people trust
     him enough to answer honestly.
Chapter Notes
     Warning there's discussion of incest... And abuse (As usual) in this
     chapter.
Itan has Human pupils, Orro notices.
It's not really a secret that he's a Half-Breed. His mother had loved a Human
quite passionately until Ralom became convenient.
Orro wonders what happened to Itan's father almost as much as Itan himself.
"Have you ever thought about sex with Keteer?"
Orro isn't surprised at the question, even though most people would be.
But Itan has a penchant for strange questions. "No. Have you ever thought about
sex with Danshu or Noyek?"
Itan doesn't respond.
Orro knows he's done more than think about it. "I think you should get some
space from them." He's careful to keep his voice neutral even though he feels
sick. "They trust you and you don't want to break it."
Itan's green eyes meet his and Orro is careful to be perceived as open and
sincere. He hates how manipulative he's become since he's met his friend.
"Especially after what Ralom did to Noyek." Knowing what he knows, this subject
is extremely touchy. But he has to say it if he's Itan's friend. "And you
should tell someone." He has to tell someone that this has happened.
He also has to be careful about it though. "And Itan?"
The other man glances at him.
Orro forces himself to meet his best friend's eye. "I love you. You're my
brother. But if you ever touch Keteer," he can feel his lip twitching upwards,
"I will kill you."
xXx
Noyek and Danshu are beautiful, sweet girls. But complete opposites. Noyek is
shy and skittish while Danshu is exuberant and outgoing.
"Can we talk?" He asks Noyek.
The only reason she agrees to it is that she knows Orro, trusts him.
She's still quiet and nervous when he takes her to lunch. She looks around the
eatery like she's expecting him to lead her into a trap. They sit in a booth on
the left side of the tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant. She sits facing the
double doors and he sits with his back to them.
A testament to their current mindsets.
"I'm sorry for asking you this." Her dark eyes narrow, lips thinning. He thinks
he's seen Renjin make that look. Rozolyn is incapable of looking anything but
deceptively jubilant. A rouse to cover the sly, flint-like darkness in her
eyes. "Did Itan hurt you?"
She stands, hips and thighs knocking against the table. Orro expects she'll
have some nasty bruises later. "Don't."
He stands too, slower, less threatening. "You need to say something to
somebody."
She makes to leave and he snatches her by the upper arm. "You can't just let
these things keep happening to you without a fight!" Realizing the wait staff
are paying attention to the scene being made, he sighs, leans in closer, lowers
his voice. "Aren't you a Toko?"
She rips her arm out of his grip. "It's only a name. There aren't any magick
powers that come with it, so mind your own damn business." He blocks her path
and she scowls. "Who would I go to anyways?"
"Renjin. Haunku. They're your best bets."
She stares at him. "You want me to trust your backstabbing Uncle?"
He sighs. "That's rare, okay? Don't you want to get out of this never ending
cycle?"
She looks out the window. "Yes."
"Then you need to talk. I'll go with you if you want."
She shakes her head. "Itan will know."
"Itan is already going to know."
"Won't he be angry with you?"
Orro shrugs. "It's probable. I can't just turn a blind eye to this, though."
She frowns.
"Do you know if he hurt Danshu, too?"
"No. He and I are closer because we sacrificed ourselves for our siblings."
He must have looked empathetic or heartbroken because her hands fly up in front
of herself. "Don't!"
Don't pity me, Her expression says. Don't treat me like a victim
With a breath and a prayer to Bakubakk, he takes her lightly by the elbow. "You
and Itan don't have to do this by yourselves anymore."
Her eyebrows draw together. "Monavere says the truth sets us free. Why do I
feel more entangled than ever?"
xXx
Itan and Orro come to blows over what information should be given. After Orro
gets a black eye and Itan receives a busted lip, it's settled that nobody talks
about what goes on when Ralom is away.
But Orro is determined to repeal it at a later date. When Itan is stronger,
less shamed by it.
Noyek is sent away temporarily so nothing else will happen.
"Every time you think you can trust someone," Itan mutters from the other side
of the room.
"Shut up," Says Orro. "It's better to deal with it now than have someone
uncover it later."
Itan's hands pause in their washing of the laundry.
Oh Bakubakk.
Somebody caught them having sex. "Who else knows?"
Itan's hands scrub the fabric on the washboard almost violently. "Our
Estarred."
"Wait. Wait. Wait. Sorajin knows you two were..." He can barely think it, let
alone say it.
"He tried intervening. Mother waved him off. After she overlooked my nearly
drowning him, he stopped coming around."
"You tried to kill him?"
"It isn't that hard if he isn't expecting it."
Orro can sort of understand the want to play Head-of-the-Family. Although, he'd
much rather do it in an honest way.
But this isn't a power play.
This was to hide what he did.
Suddenly, Orro realizes just what sort of hole he's dug himself.
And how likely he'll be laying in it if he isn't prudent.
If Itan is willing to hurt his Estarred over this...
... What will he do to Orro?
Best not to think about it.
***** A Gift Given *****
Chapter Summary
     Anaya and Anayo are, really, only two sides of the same coin.
     Which would have been good for them if they were different people in
     a different family.
Chapter Notes
     Yes, more bloody mentions of/implied incest.
Anayo catches himself looking at his sister's red, red lips. It makes him
wonder whose blood that is...
She looks at him. "Are you well, Estarred?"
"Yes, Ess'en."
He can feel a disturbance in the air. Pretends like he isn't aware. She flips
her light brown hair over her shoulder. "I am thinking about taking Chante."
He pauses in his reading. Glances up at her. "I think you should give it a
rest."
"Why?"
"Because you've already had three men in the last month. If you don't slow it
down, people are going to notice."
"They're going to notice no matter what. May as well enjoy it while it lasts."
He runs a hand through his hair. "Don't you think what you're doing might be
wrong?"
She blinks. "Even if it were, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop. Warriors
have such sweet blood. Invigorating souls."
Anayo is aware he's making a face, only because her expression becomes flat.
"Stop it. You have all sorts of disgusting sexual habits. I just want to feel
alive."
"Are you claiming to be better than me?"
"Only slightly."
"Says the woman that has tried to devour each and every member of her family."
"You people are irresistible. Especially Mother. I'd do just about anything to
get all that joy and anguish, narcissism and surprise when I have her, in my
lungs like a drug."
"But then you'd have to breath it back out."
"Yes. But she has such a deep well to draw from. Deeper than almost anyone else
I've had. Gods, I get goosebumps and wet panties just thinking about it."
He thinks his mouth is hanging open. "You get hot at the idea of murdering our
Mother?"
She shivers. "Gods, yes. Her blood running down my skin as I inhale all that's
left of her."
That's twisted, Anaya, He wants to say. But all that comes out is a shakey
breath. She smiles at him. It's the same smile she gives to the men she plans
to Have.
She stands slowly, unfolding long, graceful legs before gliding over to him,
running her hand over his desk. Settling herself onto it, shoving his project
to the side. "Who do you want me to be?"
He pushes his chair back. Her leg brushes his hip. "I won't play this game with
you."
"I promise not to Take you this time."
"There's always a next time for you, isn't there?"
"Of course. But I want to wait until I've had Chante before trying you again."
He looks at her for a long moment. "Who have you recently added to your
repertoire?"
"What little I could steal from our She'shen without Father noticing. The naive
stable boy was surprisingly pleasurable. Didn't know molk about sex, though.
That was disappointing."
"Show him to me."
Her form shivers as her skin changes from ivory to tanned and her shoulders
broaden. This form is willowy and lank. The young man facing Anayo is actually
a few years older than they.
"Give me a taste of what Yokksun was like."
The image before him takes a perplexed expression, if he could forget his
interactions with Anaya, and her eyes that remain green, even in this form, he
wouldn't know anything was different with Yokksun. "What do you mean? I am he."
When he pulls the other form into his lap, it shivers. Gasps when his teeth
sink into the space where his neck and shoulder connect.
xXx
Shura runs a hand through her hair, looking Anayo over. "You are a savage. I
can't believe you would betray me like this."
Anayo says nothing, he can feel his lips drawing upwards.
"And your sister! Who does she think she is?"
"Still in her prime?"
Shura rolls her eyes. "You had best learn to control your desires or I will
teach you to."
"Mother," Says Anayo, "you are in no position to teach me anything."
She turns on him then, teeth bared, he shows his teeth in response.
He wonders how hard it'll be to overpower her. What she would look like begging
him for mercy.
His right hand shoots out, her right arm knocks it away as she slips back a few
steps. He wants to hear her cry.
His leg swings up and back with bone crushing force and she slides back even
further and picks up a vase. "You're going to get it."
"Oh, Mother. In only a few minutes, I'm going to make you eat those words." His
eyes gleam with something Shura obviously can't decode. "And then some."
It's when he tackles her that her eyes begin their intense glow and he can feel
the air shift around them.
xXx
When he comes to, he's naked and tied to a chair, his Mother paces back and
forth in front of him. "Anayo, I'm going to give you what you appear to want."
The sound of a zipper rips through the air before her flowing black dress falls
away and he can already feel himself watching her with curiosity. "Yet, you
will regret having it." Her body is a little different than he expected, her
breasts are rounder, form thicker than he could have accounted for.
She smiles at his stupified expression. "You will help me triumph over your
traitorous sisters."
Destroying Renjin was easier than expected. He couldn't kill her without
soliciting Kenjin's wrath, but he could make her wish he had.
"Anyone new you found to play with?" He asks when his twin comes in.
Anaya grins. "Yokksun has a brother."
"Bring him to me."
Some small part of him hates the way he's living, makes it harder every day to
look in the mirror. He has tried everything to kill it.
But Shura has made it clear the only person he should be killing is his twin.
xXx
The boy is nothing but skin and bones, Anayo almost feels pity for him. He
waits until his Ess'en is busy torturing him to run her through and give his
sword a vicious twist.
She coughs blood, it spatters the boy's agonized face, and tries to turn on her
Brother, hand whipping towards his face at light speed.
When his hand catches her wrist, he's sure to give it a quick little twist.
The snap makes him understand why Anaya loves spilling blood so much. The nails
of her free hand rake down the side of his face and he snarls at her before
pulling his blade from her flesh and sinking it into her again, using his
superior strength to hold her still before throwing her to the floor as though
she were a ragdoll.
She lies gasping on the floor as the boy starts to hyperventilate. "Please.
Please don't kill me."
Anayo is sure to settle his foot over his Sister's throat when he stands before
the boy. He isn't much younger than they. The softness and youth he holds tells
Anayo that he has never been to combat.
He starts to sob, squeezes his eyes shut as Anayo licks his Sister's blood off
the boy's skin, takes his time to savor it.
He makes a strangled sound when Anayo's teeth find his shoulder, hands pulling
with purpose at the wounds the female twin inflicted.
She's desperately clawing at him with her good wrist, emitting all sorts of
sounds that aren't unlike that of a wounded animal.
Finally, he kneels beside her, wraps his hands around her throat. "You know, if
you hadn't shown me your little trick, I wouldn't have to kill you."
"Mother?" She rasps.
He nods. "You know how she is about keeping her place at the top. You're a
threat."
She smiles then. It sends a chill through him. "I'm not the only one. Renjin is
going to tear her throat out."
Anayo shakes his head. "Renjin has been made into a mouse. She'll never be much
of anything."
"Oh," Gasps Anaya. "But she will. I've made sure of it."
And he realizes that she saw this coming. "How so?"
Her eyes take an ethereal glow. "I've given her a gift. Similar to what you're
about to receive."
He steels himself in case she intends to try to Take him. Her mouth opens and
instead of feeling suction, he feels a heavy wind against his face. It pushes
hard against him. He feels overwhelmed, unsure what's happening.
When it stops abruptly, the air smells different in a way he can't place.
And his Sister is dead.
Shura is standing over them, having just saved Anayo from whatever his twin was
planning.
He feels out of it, sort of strange like only a Half-out-of-body experience.
Leaves his mother behind, leaves his sister on the cold stone floor, leaves the
boy screaming and sobbing and begging not to be abandoned.
He wants to know what gift his pathetic Sister was given.
He spends two hours searching before he realizes she's gone. Anaya, in the end,
still managed to pull one over on him.
"That's not all," She says. When he turns, she's smiling, leaning against the
stone wall.
"You're dead," He says.
Her smile becomes unearthly then, Anayo feels his heart skip a beat or two at
how terrifying - demonic - her smile is. "Not out of sight."
The air grows cold. "And never out of mind."
***** Experiment *****
Chapter Summary
     Haunku discovers that maybe his partner isn't asexual after all.
     Chante is as curious as a cat.
     Or maybe just green with envy?
Chapter Notes
     So, I did some editing because I really should write more plot than
     not, right?
     Right.
"You can't make me," Anju tells Keava on a crisp early morning. "Seriously."
"I can't?"
Haunku is honestly surprised that his apathetic partner of six years suddenly
feels so strongly.
Keava wants to send her out with Ehao for reconnaissance in other Territories.
Her relationship is fairly good with Ehao. They don't talk, don't disturb one
another or get in the other's way.
Haunku should really be bothered when ignoring and tolerating counts for
getting along.
"And why would this be?"
"Where Haunku goes, I will go. Seriously."
He can feel his eyes getting wide, his mouth opening and closing. Thinks he
probably looks like a fish. "What?"
Keava gives him a look he brushes off, ignores in his shock.
"I will not be separated from you," She says. "You need me, idiot. Seriously."
Do I? He asks himself. There's something in her eyes that makes him feel he
should agree. He vaguely wonders if she's charmed him. Keava gives him an
expectant look.
"She's right. I've gotten good at working with her. We should continue to do
so." The word need is a little too hard for his pride to swallow.
Keava huffs. "Fine."
xXx
"Was there an actual reason you wanted to stick close to me?"
She sighs through her nose. "I hate almost everybody. Seriously."
He rolls his shoulders, tries not to take it personally. "Does this mean that
I'm just someone in particular that you hate less than everyone else?"
"No."
"So you hate me but you want to stay with me..." He holds his hands waist
level, palms to the ceiling and fingers splayed. "Anju, I just don't understand
what you want from me."
She tosses her long, brown hair over her shoulder, it all stays on the right
side of her head, though. He wonders how she gets it to do that.
"I said I hated almost everyone."
"Yes, I know what you-" Oh.
Oh. He thinks his brain just exploded.
She stares at him like he's dumb and she pities him for it.
"Okay," He says. "So what does this mean for our relationship?"
She is quiet for a long time and he thinks hard about it.
She doesn't hate him.
Is she neutral?
Does she care about him?
Is she intending that he court her?
Her mouth is feather light against his and he holds his breath, unsure if he
should push it.
xXx
He makes it a point to do something good for her at least twice a week. Other
than that, everything is normal.
She let's him touch her when he pleases even though she doesn't seem too
interested in touching him back.
xXx
Their recruiting mission has gone horrifyingly wrong, there are too many people
for them to get out of it unscathed.
Anju fends off her attackers before one of them grips the chain, entertwined
with her Mokk'et, from behind and yanks. He's told her a million times that
thing would be the end of her.
When she hits the dirt, cold fear grips his heart, rolls his stomach as he
pushes his own assailants aside and runs to his partner.
He slaughters them, not even sure how and she lays there, drenched in blood and
watching him with what he thinks might be awe.
When he kneels, picks her up like a Human Male might his bride, she leans her
head against his shoulder, runs bloody fingertips against his cheek.
"Don't die, Your Royal Bitchness."
She scoffs, cups his cheek with a clammy palm. "I wouldn't dream of it. You
need me too much."
Bursting into the old cabin is simple enough, he regrets having to break the
lock.
She's bleeding out through a gash in her thigh and he's left frustrated that
his hands are so far from still. They're unsteady on a good day. With her help
while she lies on her back, eyes to the ceiling, he manages to stitch her up.
His hands slide over her bare skin, they're both still sticky from the blood.
And even though she's exhausted, he pulls her into his lap and she kisses him,
hands tangling in his matted hair. He's still terrified that he almost lost
her.
xXx
He isn't sure why sex becomes a thing for them after that.
"So," Says Chante, eyeing Anju like a tasty treat.
"No," Says Haunku, already not liking where this is going.
Chante rolls his shoulders and smiles, a flash of sharp, painstakingly cared
for teeth. "Then can I watch?"
"You can keep your dick on the other side of the island."
The dark haired man rolls his darker blue eyes. They're almost black in this
light. "We both know I won't hurt her." He tilts his head. "Except when she
screams for it."
Haunku huffs. "That won't happen," He says. "Her body is receptive to me
alone."
His eyes gleam with hunger again. "Show me."
xXx
Her eyelashes flutter as Chante's hand slides feather light up her calf. His
mouth is gentle over hers.
She sleeps as though she were dead.
Even under Chante's carefully crafted charm, a useful trick to give him the
upper hand over other Males come Fall, she ignores him, kicks out in her sleep.
"This has never happened before," He whispers.
Haunku shrugs.
Anju, obviously drugged so she would sleep through their experiment, rolls over
and groans.
Chante sniffs, indignant. "You try."
He stands over her quietly. She turns to him when he touches her face, tilts
her head back as he runs the tips of his fingers down her throat and over her
collarbone.
Chante's mouth opens in disbelief. "Will she let you fuck her?"
"Want to watch?"
xXx
As it turns out, Anju hates being made a fool of. Chante is left nursing a
broken arm and Haunku is put in the nearest healing center.
Haunku thinks maybe he's lucky that he's only been beaten within an inch of his
life.
They don't see Chante for awhile after that and Haunku is pretty well
mistreated for the next few months.
He considers himself sort-of-almost forgiven when, after he finally gets his
nose to stop bleeding, she lightly takes his hand in hers, but while her
profile shows only apathy, her eyes betray a dark, intent warning.
Haunku won't be getting anything physical (other than another cracked rib) for
some time.
Haunku is willing to admit he deserves it.
***** Traitor *****
Chapter Summary
     Mercy is loathe to admit it, but he has had no control over his life.
     Until now.
A glance at the mirror doesn't worry Mercy. Nor does the scantily clad woman in
it.
It's that she is so sure she's going to catch hold of him - Of Ma'hale, she
doesn't even bother to hide herself. Mercy is no Yoksa chick, fresh to be
picked off.
But he is Tarshish.
Part of him despises what he is. His bones are too light, hair too eye
catching.
"What is it?" Asks Ma'hale, who is so unaware of what he is, knows very little
of the utter devastation he could do to Mercy.
Mercy's hip still occasionally aches from a hair line fracture accidentally
inflicted by Ma'hale during sex a few months ago.
In this moment, Ma'hale takes him by the arm. "What's gotten into you?"
Mercy keeps his mouth firmly closed.
xXx
Hyon is quiet today, he notices. "Madam?"
Her eyes flick to him, then back to the animal she's plucking the feathers off
of. "Yes, Yona?"
He drums his fingers on the table. "What's on your mind?" It's really not his
place to ask, but she's kind to him and has seemed melancholic for days.
It's bad for the baby, He tells himself.
She must know he won't say anything. "I'm thinking about leaving Anayo."
Definitely not going to say anything. He curses himself, his loss of control in
his surprise. Hyon has been kind and amazingly loyal to Anayo, it makes no
sense that she would suddenly turn tail. "I knew I shouldn't have said
anything."
"I just," He swallows all the spit he can gather in his dry mouth, "I don't
understand."
She sighs, wipes her hands on her apron. "Honestly, I love your Master." At
first, he thinks they're still talking about Anayo. "But he's obviously..." She
gestures. Mercy doesn't follow. "I think Anayo kept his blood in the family."
She says.
"Okay," Says Mercy. "What concern is it of yours?"
"What will he do to our baby?"
Good point Thinks Mercy. "He hasn't harmed Ma'hale."
Hyon looks at him with tearful eyes then. "It only appears that way."
Mercy can feel the hair on his arms standing on end.
xXx
It isn't as though I care about what happens to Ma'hale, Mercy tells himself
when he revisits the conversation.
But he can't pretend that what ever befalls Ma'hale doesn't seal his own fate.
If he dies under Mercy's watch - The Yona can't even bear to think about what
will happen to him.
Staring at his reflection, he feels trapped. There's nothing. Utterly nothing
he can do to save himself.
He hates what he is.
A hand shoots out of the mirror, snags him by the shirt and he hisses, yanking
back.
Out of the mirror, comes the woman, bright blue eyes glowing like the pendant
hanging from her collar Mokk'et. The bangles on his wrist glow and spin,
gradually picking up speed.
She's a Full-Blood, stronger than he, chances of escape are reduced greatly.
Her mouth opens, normally sharp teeth shifting to pieces of glass as she darts
in to tear his throat out. In his panic, his body goes into autopilot and hits
her with a jolt of electricity, shattering her to pieces.
He staggers back, presses himself against the wall and tries to catch his
breath.
He could have died just then.
So why didn't he?
Why didn't he just let her kill him? It would have been a quick death...
The glass on the floor draws itself in to a pile and he waits for the Fall-Back
to attack again. She doesn't rise out of the glass shards.
The mirror is destroyed.
And he's too tired to deal with it. The skittish maids do his bidding as though
he'll kill them if they don't. Everyone here, except Ma'hale, lives on edge, he
realizes. Never knowing when they're in for a world of hurt but always knowing
it's coming.
xXx
"Catch," Says the woman from the mirror, Maque. She gives him enough time to
perk before she throws the scroll at him.
He scans it, notices the signature. "He wants me to lead the Tarshish to
freedom?"
"Is that what it says?"
"Yes."
"Then surely, that's what it means."
"Why me?"
"Many Tarshish are scared out of their wits. Some are far from what he has been
searching for. Others have become traitors, want to remain pets for the rest of
their lives."
Why fight and risk being tortured when you could simply lie under their line of
vision and only receive minimal wrath? Mercy gets it. Has lived that way for as
long as he could remember.
"Okay."
"Ah. But there's a catch," Says Maque. "You have to kill your Master or make a
great contribution to take him down."
This is what she had meant when she said many of them chose to stay pets.
Murdering their Master was risky as hell. Not to mention some of them had come
to love their Masters.
And the rebellion would have to kill them for their loyalty.
He idly wonders what Kieve would choose. "Did you ask Kevierkets?"
"He turned it down without a second thought. Said he couldn't betray family."
Mercy scoffs at that. If a Tarshish can be family with Full-Bloods, Mercy's the
purest nun there ever was. Kieve is in denial.
He pities the poor, naive Half Breed, wonders how long it'll be before the rude
awakening breaks him. Molds him into a Full-Blood Hunter. This thought
entertains him mildly. "If I do this, I want an eye on Kevierkets. He'll be
useful when his time comes."
***** Words of Encouragement *****
Chapter Summary
     Kieve isn't saying his goodbyes yet, but everyone else is saying
     their's.
     There's also a dark cloud on the horizon that Kieve is sure he can
     handle by himself..
     ... Sort of.
The Twins perch quietly on his bed while he studies the material Inan has sent
him, goes over all the things he's expected to do and have a basic knowledge
of.
"Are you going away, Kieve?" Asks Youten, Renjin's blood son.
Kieve has braced himself for this conversation. It still hurts a little.
"Yeah," He says. "I'm going away."
"When are you coming back?" Asks Emma, Renjin's only daughter. Emotion grips
his vocal cords. His whole life, he's wanted freedom. But now... Now that he's
got it, it's a bitter pill to swallow.
"Hm!" Emma giggles. "I bet big Brother knows! We should ask him."
He doesn't have it in him to tell them he's not coming back at all. He settles
himself between them, a stark contrast of long limbs and chubby little bodies.
He wonders if he was this cute at seven.
They were already toddling when he first joined the family.
"Are you going to miss me?" Kieve asks playfully.
Youten pouts, tries to look genuine. "No."
"I will." Emma climbs up into his lap, takes his face in both of her hands, and
looks up at him with big, brown eyes. "Will you miss us?"
Kieve smiles. "Very much." His lips place a tender kiss to her forehead. "But
for now," He grins, "I'm gonna eat your fingers!" He chases her hands with his
mouth while she squeals and squirms away from him.
He grins at Youten who stares at him warily. "I'm too old to like you being a
finger monster."
"Oh yeah?" Asks Kieve. "You're never too old for this!" He gently pushes the
boy down and blows what the Humans call "raspberries" on his stomach. When
Youten is laughing so hard he's out of breath, Kieve lets him up, settles into
a crouch.
The boy tries to look stern with him and Kieve has to laugh. "Get that look
from Brother, did you?"
The boy is awful proud of himself. Kieve sweeps him into a hug. "I knew Youten
was under that Tough Guy Attitude."
The boy hugs him back, sighs against Kieve's shoulder. "I'm gonna miss you a
lot."
"Be good for your mom and dad, okay?"
He nods.
Little Emma comes over then, takes his hands in hers. "We love you, Kieve."
He does his best to keep his emotions at bay, it's really not cool to cry in
front of the children. "I love you, too."
And then she plants one on him.
He jerks back sharply, falls on his ass. "That's not okay, Emma."
Emma tilts her head. "But Sorajin does it."
"Yes," Says Kieve, patting her head. "He does."
She frowns. "It's not nice to have favorites."
"That kind of kissing is for big people." He hopes his voice is gentle.
"So when I'm big like Brother, I can kiss you, too?"
Well this just got extremely awkward. "Um, if you want to, I guess...."
Youten scowls, kicks him in the thigh. "I don't miss you anymore."
xXx
"Your sister is strange," Kieve tells Sorajin as he braids the younger man's
hair.
Sorajin's tone is a mix of warning, concern, and curiosity when he says,
"Kieve."
"She kissed me."
Sorajin gives him a measuring look. Kieve stares back, nothing to hide. "It's
innocent. Don't worry."
"If it gets any weirder, you should look into it." Kieve tries to sound casual.
"Did she say why she thought it was okay?"
"She's seen us do it."
"Then it's nothing to worry about."
Kieve gives Sorajin's hair a light tug. "That's so fucking weird coming from
you, Mr. Heterosexual."
He sighs. "I know."
xXx
"Kieve," Says Renjin on the other side of the curtain.
He stops mid stride and backs up slowly to the doorway, cursing himself. He
knew he should have taken the long way. "I'm sorry, Madam. I hadn't any
intention of disturbing you."
"Don't lie, Kieve." He can hear the eye roll on the other side.
"Usually," He admits. Irritating people - within reason - is something he
loves.
But she's retired to her room which is a sure sign to leave her alone. "I'm
sorry I bothered you," He says.
"You haven't. I've been meaning to speak with you. Now is as good a time as
ever."
"But-"
"Come in, please."
He takes a breath, reaches for the curtain but pulls back at the last moment,
wimping out. What if people talk?
He really doesn't want to upset Sanchu. Or Sorajin, for that matter.
Is there something she wants to tell him that other people can't know?
He's slow to pull back the curtain, knowing full well he can't bolt once she's
asked him to do something.
He steps in, mindful to pull the curtain closed behind him. Renjin is lying
with her back to the door. "Madam?" Was this a ploy? Would she rather kill him
than let him go?
Would she portray him as a pervert taking advantage of his new freedom?
She sighs. "Sit."
He creeps forward, settles himself a few feet from her.
The fact that she's lying in bed, now that he's thinking about it, probably
means she's having a day in which her depression isn't something she can push
through. He has only ever seen her give in to her depression a handful of times
in the years he's served.
She rolls over, taking her time. Her eyes are tired, even on her side, her
visible shoulder has a defeated line to it. But she's honest when she speaks.
"I'm proud of you."
And his week just gets weirder.
"You've done well by us and managed to make a name for yourself."
He goes to remove his rings. "Thank you, Madam. It has been," Good? Amazing? So
painful sometimes he can't breathe when he thinks about it? "Eye opening."
"Keep them." She nods towards the rings. "They're yours. No one can or ever
will use them as well as you."
"That's not true." He still has a long way to go.
"Then make it true," She says. And time stops for several seconds. Did she
just...? "People love you, Kieve." We love you, She can't say. I love you.
"Don't let anyone put you underneath them again. Stay free until you're ready
to have Sparrows."
Whoa. Too much weird, Thinks Kieve. "Renjin, why on the island would I even
think about starting a family?"
She smiles at him, that alone seems to take effort. "Do you have everything you
need?"
And just like that, she's no longer the Mother, but the Mistress, looking out
for her people.
xXx
Sanchu is stitching up a long piece of fabric, needles sticking out of his
mouth.
Kieve smiles at his intense concentration.
"Long day?"
Sanchu's laugh lines, steadily making their appearance and gaining definition,
make his smile more sincere.
Old are uncommon on the island. It's too hostile to those that deserve rest in
their long lives.
But Sanchu isn't old, Kieve thinks. He's only three years older than Renjin.
The island has worn him down.
"Takka doesn't like Inan," Says Kieve. "Should I be worried?"
Sanchu laughs soundlessly, a movement of shoulders and shakes his head. He dips
his pen into the ink well and diligently writes in winding letters, I wouldn't.
She just doesn't want you to go.
"There's nothing between them?"
Not that Takka has ever mentioned.
They're silent for a few minutes.
Finally, Sanchu dips his quill again. You know, you have been a great help to
us. Kept Sorajin out of trouble.
Kieve shakes his head. "I'd be dead if he were any one else."
Sanchu smiles at him, runs a hand through his curly hair. You should come back
when you know who you are. Visit when you're ready.
But Kieve isn't sure he's coming back. There's another Tarshish uprising on the
horizon and he'll be working under Inan while creating an outcome other
Tarshish can live with.
They'll hang him if he isn't careful.
Guilt hits him square in the chest. He's been obsessing over it, since Maque
brought it to him, by himself.
He's been hiding it from Sorajin.
From the entire family.
Takka is starting to catch wind of it, gives him penetrating glances from time
to time while he holds his breath and prays to every deity he knows the name
of.
What makes him physically ill, is that if they find out he's hiding it, they'll
think he's leading the damn rebellion.
That he wants them dead.
He smiles, hides his shaking hands under the table. "Of course I will."
He wonders if it'll be in a box. Or worse yet, if they'll want him back at all.
It's worth it as long as his family is safe.
***** The Trouble With Tarshish *****
Chapter Summary
     Illia might be the best. But her Tribal Mentality isn't doing her any
     favors.
Chapter Notes
     Hopefully, I can move on to other characters after this...
"Are you ready, Illia?"
The Tarshish nods, pink hair sliding like silk over her shoulders.
"You know what you have to do then."
And with that, Illia turns and slips out the door. Her soundless pace down the
hallway falters when he joins her. "Sir?"
"Did they debrief you?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. I've got something else for you." The scroll is handed to her from under
his arm. This is an under-the-table scheme.
It glows when she takes it, the information transferred to her without the need
to open it.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. If you can recruit him, I'll give you a place at Anayo's very table after
it's been soaked with his blood."
She shivers. "I'll will do whatever I can, Sir."
"I know, Illia."
xXx
Slipping into Renjin's Territory is simple enough. She's small enough to cling
to the bottoms of wagons, hide under tarps with all sorts of preparations in
them.
The hardest part is covering her smell.
Takka is sitting with the youngest children.
Illia can't see any good reason to kill the cubs. She knows it'll bite her in
the ass.
She grabs one of the maid servants, has to be careful when the knife goes into
the girl's skull.
Blood on a uniform is a dead giveaway. It takes only a minute to trade clothes
with her. Longer to drag her where she won't be found right away.
The kitchen is bustling with cooks and servants of every order. Illia does her
best to blend in, hair pulled back.
"Come here, girl," Says one of the cooks, not actually looking at her. "Get
this up to Madam Takka immediately. She'll skin us if she has to wait any
longer."
She nods, takes the cup and it's saucer and makes her way through the maze of
hallways.
Stopping for only a moment, she slides a small packet from her apron pocket,
sets the cup on a small hall table and sprinkles a pinch of the contents in her
packet into the cup, stirring it in.
Perfect. It's ridiculous that everything has fallen into place so easily. She
eases into the room, unobtrusively setting the cup down beside a woman who
certainly doesn't look her age.
"Your tea, Madam."
Takka grabs her wrist so firmly, Illia is afraid she might break it. Had she
seen through the outfit?
"You aren't one of ours."
"I've been serving for a month, Madam. Am I that hard to remember?"
Takka's grip gets tighter, Illia can feel her bones protest. "Don't give me any
sort of lip, little girl. I'd remember your hair."
Illia breathes deep, thinks of another lie she can use. Takka gives her nothing
to work with.
What was the son's name?
Sache?
Jonkiim?
"The Young Master bought me. Has kept me to himself." Takka's grip softens but
only slightly. "He sent me because the usual girl isn't feeling well. Said she
had a horrible headache."
Takka releases her then. "Tell that girl she'll have a real headache as soon as
I have the time to get my hands on her."
Illia nods, backs away as quickly as she can. Disgust surges in her stomach
when she realizes this Young Master has a Tarshish habit.
Between the Twin's bedroom and the Prince's room, she's sure to change her
appearance with a charm.
The quarters are slightly cluttered, over all, well organized. Two bodies in
the bed.
One of them is Tarshish.
Shaking with rage, she stands over the other man, drawing her knife.
He doesn't deserve a quick death. How dare he use her people for his pleasure?
Her hands are trembling so hard she can barely hold onto the hilt, she kneels
over him. Knife poised over the bastard's belly, she glances over.
The Tarshish is watching her, eyes daring her to go through with her
intentions.
"It's for your own good," She whispers. "Don't you want to be free of this man
who has, surely, used you to your own hurt?"
The Tarshish shifts closer, hand between his Master and the knife. "You will
have to kill me before doing anything to him." The entire room starts to
tremble and Illia realizes he means it.
"He's brainwashed you. When was the last time he raped you?"
The poor, confused Tarshish laughs. "Not once."
Illia frowns. "You're one of us. I don't want to hurt you."
"Then leave," He says. "Because if I find out anyone has been harmed, one of us
will have to die." He smiles, white teeth bared. "And it will be you."
She shoves his hand away, punches the knife downwards.
The next thing she knows, she's lying on the floor, his forearm in her mouth,
between her teeth, knife lying by the door.
"I told you," He says. "That I will make you pay."
She bites down, hopes he can regenerate. He winces, but doesn't pull back when
she tastes blood.
Oh shit.
 She thinks,
He wanted me to bite him.
 He pushes his arm harder against her, shifts it upwards, baring her throat.
She's panicking as he tears off her Mokk'et, starts screaming when his teeth
close lightly over her throat. He's going to kill her the way feral animals do.
There's no rehabilitation for this one. She should have killed him - put him
out of his misery. His weight keeps her pinned, one of her hands underneath
her. And yet she still can't bring herself to end him. She could. It would only
take a flick of her wrist.
"Kieve?"
There are alarms going off throughout the temple. People are looking for her
now.
And the Human is watching them. "Kieve."
He pulls back, eyes hard. He wants her to know that he's letting her live. She
releases his arm, turns her face to the side and spits his blood.
When he backs off, she bolts from the fucking place. The Tarshish watches her
go.
xXx
She's shaking when she takes cover in a cave not far from the temple. "What's
wrong with me?"
She thought she'd been ready to die. But maybe she was more cowardly than she
believed. Maybe it was the idea of being killed by one of their own.
Nearly every Tarshish she'd saved had returned thankful.
Even the hostile, brainwashed ones hadn't threatened to tear her throat out
with their teeth.
This one had been made into a rabid animal.
Illia can feel that familiar burn in her sinuses. She's crying over the feral
beast.
She feels so stupid for it.
But she also feels determined.
If it's the last thing she does, she'll free him from his insanity.
And he'll thank her.
xXx
When she arrives in the palace, the leader smiles at her. "Pretty little thing.
I bet my men would love a taste of you."
She smiles, and her hand opens. The smoke bomb goes off near them, giving her
time to sink her knife into his torso.
Another man grabs her by the hair and he meets his end when her knife fills his
eye socket.
This, she can do. Killing Full-Bloods is what she lives for these days. When
she's done, her battle with the rogue Tarshish means little to her.
She's still the best. Still unflappable.
Still Inan's best.
She frowns. Inan, too, is a Full-Blood.
With a sigh, she flops onto the massive throne, steadily takes the form of the
dead leader. She'll have to replace his cronies. "But Inan's Race is distantly
related to us. Doesn't that make them the exception?" She asks the ceiling.
She receives silence.
Her little finger flicks up and a window to her right opens, a bird flutters
through it. "Let him know we're ready over here."
Within the week, this would be the Tarshish's base of operations. And she would
lead these Full-Bloods to battle.
Unbeknownst to them, they will be furthering the plans of their enemies. She
smiles at little at the thought.
***** Unfamiliar Territory *****
Chapter Summary
     Raiton has decided it's time to move on.
Raiton is silent.
His mother washes the dishes, ignoring him.
"You can't say things like that to Qett."
She pauses. "Sweety, I'm his mother. I can say whatever I want."
"Calling somebody broken because of their dyslexia is wrong, Mother."
"He is broken, Raiton. You're the only one worthy of living." The silence
decreases the temperature of the room.
"I'm going to have to replace that damn door soon," Says Chante as he steps
into the room.
"Dad, make mom take her meds!"
"Raiton," Says Chante. "You ought'nt speak to me like that."
"Dad," Says Raiton. "Now is really not the time! Mom is-"
"Thinking about buying a new table!" Chirps his Mother.
"That's a great idea, Thorne."
Raiton knocks the table over when he stands. "Fine! Fuck both of you!"
At the stunned expression his Father takes, his Mother says, "I don't know
what's wrong with him. I think he's falling ill."
xXx
"Qett, Dokta," Says Raiton. "We're leaving."
Tonro is staring as his friend starts getting things together. "Where will we
go?"
"Anywhere but here." He tosses a bag to Tonro. "If I see one more bruise on
either of my siblings, I'm going to break my Mother's neck and throw her down
the stairs."
Tonro punches the full length mirror by their bed, makes sure to shatter it to
a million pieces. "Yeah, we should leave." While they're packing, the glass
begins to piece itself together, gaining height and width in all the right
places.
Finally, there's a rippling effect and as the glass ripples upwards, it becomes
flesh and fabric. "What's going on?"
Raiton glances at her. "We're leaving. Talk to your Headmaster about coming
with us."
The woman frowns. "You can't stay put a scant period of time?"
"It isn't 'scant.'" Raiton rounds on her. "You asked me to stay 'just a short
time longer' two months ago, Maque."
The woman shifts the blonde hair over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Things aren't
going our way."
"And what way is that?" Asks Tonro. "No more hiding."
She shrugs. Raiton steps out the door, siblings in tow.
Chante meets him at the front gate. "What are you doing, Son?"
"Leaving. Because you aren't the man I thought you were."
Chante's stricken look makes Raiton feel guilty. But only for a moment. He
doesn't know where he's going, but he isn't going to stay here anymore.
"Let's stay with your Aunt Tevil while we work things out," Says Tonro. He
hasn't any family of his own.
Maque does, but she doesn't know them very well, has no real attachment to
them.
Her Headmaster is strict on where she can go and when. He, along with Raiton's
family and those in the compound, is her family.
xXx
"I'd agree to it, Maque. But there's a problem I haven't yet presented to you."
"On with it, then." Tonro and Raiton snicker behind her at the funny way Fall-
Backs speak to one another. Maque becomes a different person in their presence.
"I've been corresponding with the resident god of the West. On the condition
that we receive one of his pupils, you were offered in compensation."
"And you, along with the Council, willfully neglected to make me aware of this?
Why?"
"You are to make your appearance at his dwelling within the span of four days,"
Says the Headmaster, his transparent image fading.
Maque can do nothing but scowl. "Naresuan."
"Yup," Says Tonro.
"Nothing for it. You'll have to come with me."
"Wait. Wait. Wait," Says Qett. "Go with you?"
"You can't go home."
"I think that's a good idea for now," Says Raiton. "We can adjust the plan as
we go."
Tonro sniffs. "This is a bad idea."
"Come on, Tonro." Maque takes his hand and they begin their trip to unfamiliar
territory.
Raiton knows that together, they can do nearly anything.
***** In His Shadow *****
Chapter Summary
     Jezreel and Nachte haven't always been on good terms.
Miinda is packing Jezreel's things when he comes back from breakfast. "What are
you doing?"
Her face is tearstained when she turns to him. "Master Inan has decided another
domicile is where you should be."
Jezreel suddenly doubts this is real, tries squeezing his eyes shut before
opening them. "Oh, Shoshunii!" He pinches himself. "This has to be a dream!"
Miinda sniffles.
"Why is he sending me away?"
Miinda shakes her head. "I wish I knew."
xXx
When he's packed up, he's brought before Inan. There's another boy who's packed
up, Jezreel has seen him but he doesn't really know who he is.
"Have we crossed you in some way?" Asks the boy, a brunette with sad eyes.
Inan shakes his head. "If I do not send you away, it is I that will soon cross
you."
At their confused looks, he says, "If a man tries to befriend you, be kind but
always be wary."
They still don't understand. But as far as Inan is concerned, they'll
understand when they're older. He can feel his body's reaction when he nears
them. Disgust for himself surges hot.
He presses it down, keeps them unaware of what's going on.
He's gentle when he clasps metal rings over their upper arms, tries not to let
his touch linger. Jezreel's left and Nachte's right.
Both boys look at the rings curiously, but only Nachte asks, "What are these
for?"
"I have come to realize that you two are to be paired."
Jezreel crinkles his nose. "Paired? Like birds for egg season?"
Nachte turns pale, begins shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Master Inan. But I
wanted to be paired with a girl."
Inan rolls his eyes. "Where Jezreel goes, Nachte will go. Where Nachte goes,
Jezreel will go."
At Nachte's pout, Inan sighs. "You're to be as close as brothers. But not
closer."
"So we aren't going to be like birds during egg season?"
He stands, allows the metal to grow hot. Nachte hisses, tries to tear it off.
The fabric wrapped around the outside of the band keeps him from burning
himself. Jezreel snarls, body shuddering as it tries to take its father's form.
Inan can only wonder why his father isn't around. Although he has his
suspicions.
After what must feel like forever to the boys, the metal cools. Inan lets
himself feel the heavy guilt as he looks at the boys gasping on the neat white
tile. The bands drop off by themselves, revealing a brand neither boy
understands.
"This charm lasts ten years," Says Inan. Jezreel bares his teeth.
"Hopefully, you two will know how to work together by then."
"Why are you doing this to us?" Inan can hear the clacking of the boy's teeth
when he speaks.
"It isn't only you," Says Inan. "Every boy your age is being sent out. Every
boy is bonded."
Nachte is finally able to pull himself through the haze of pain. "Why are we
being bonded?"
"Because I can't afford for you lot to be picked off like curious yoksa
chicks."
xXx
They sit back to back, letting Inan's assistants shave the sides of their
heads.
The pair beside them has long enough hair that it's braided.
The brand on their arms is different, Jezreel notices. He wonders why.
Miinda cries when he wraps his arms around her. The bond pulls both of them
tight so Nachte stands to the side a little awkwardly, trying to give them
privacy as best he can.
Jezreel hands her a Mokk'et with all the intricate beading an eleven-year-old
is capable of. "When I come back, I'll marry you."
She tearfully smiles at him, kisses him on the forehead, and watches them go.
xXx
There's only one other pair sent to Keava. It makes Nachte nervous. Although
maybe he's always nervous.
They share a bed for a week, the charm itching in a maddening way when Jezreel
tries to sleep in his own bed. He hates how amplified Nachte's breathing is
when he lies next to him at night in the dark.
Nachte has no trouble sleeping with another body in the bed, was the youngest
of three. So he's used to it.
But Jezreel is an only child with excellent senses.
Prayer and meditation is done at least twice a day, sometimes more, depending
on how devout they are to Shoshunii - The god of self control.
Breakfast and lunch are served but no one eats evening meal as a type of fast.
They're only allowed to drink water, no sahkmeh or beverages made from fruit
juice.
As the weeks progress, the bond slackens. They can, eventually, go to opposite
ends of the Temple without feeling anxious or an unscratchable itch.
They train together, absorb everything like sponges, under Keava and her
Assistants.
xXx
"You're a Half Breed," One of the bigger boys says to Jezreel. This boy,
Ketjeer, is one of the biggest Full Bloods in the group.
He's still smaller than Jezreel. Both in musculature and in height. Nachte
doesn't have to respond. Doesn't have to stand up for Jezreel.
Because, at thirteen, Jezreel's teeth are sharper, even if his tongue is dull.
He snorts. "What about it?"
"Your blood is dirty. Nobody wants you. Especially not us."
"You're just mad that I have the uppermost hand come Fall." When they go to the
Neutral Trading Grounds in the Fall, Females look for Males to mate with.
Nachte won't be getting anything unless Jezreel hands a Female off to him.
Ketjeer would be flocked to if it weren't for the Half Breed, assuming they
won't be able to tell a mile away that he isn't a regular Male.
It'll be their first Fall in which Females mean anything to them, so Nachte
doesn't know if they'll flock toward Jezreel or away.
The boy scowls. "No you won't." The other children are obviously intimidated
when Jezreel smiles, all teeth and aggression that they haven't yet come into.
"Watch me." Then, he turns on his heel and leisurely paces away from them.
Nachte falls into step beside, so close his shoulder brushes against Jezreel's
elbow. He really isn't going to be catching the eye of a Female this year.
Keava says he'll probably shoot up like a weed in another year or two.
But he'll always be in Jezreel's shadow. Literally and figuratively. "What were
you thinking, Jez? We're supposed to integrate. Not ostracize ourselves."
"First of all, I don't want to be pushed around by a little fuck who doesn't
know anything." He pushes the door open.
Nachte slips in. "Don't let Keava hear you talk like that. You'll be fasting
for two weeks." And so will I, comes the unspoken complaint.
Jezreel lopes in after him. "Second," He says like Nachte didn't just tell him
what to do. Anyone else would have to be knocked down a notch. "I've no idea
what 'ostrocleeze'-"
"Ostracize."
"-Means."
Nachte sighs. "You're an idiot."
Jez smiles. "But I'm your idiot."
"Unfortunately." Even if he doesn't want to, Nachte will always claim him.
xXx
It's a few weeks later when Ketjeer pushes Jezreel from behind.
In effort to keep the Half-Breed from making a fool of himself, Nachte grabs
his wrist. "We should go."
"No." It comes out low, like a growl. They've been taking all sorts of crap
from this boy, the sort of thing either they'd be a meek to point out or they
couldn't prove he did.
"Half Breeds and their Yonas belong at the back," He says.
Jezreel turns then, teeth bared, eyes taking a form Nachte recognizes, has only
seen once or twice but that was all he ever needed to see them. "Don't you dare
talk about Nachte like that."
And Nachte is just as surprised as the other boys. But for completely different
reasons. His voice has a rough quality that makes Nachte avidly resist wringing
his hands. "Not here," He whispers. "People are going to see." Nachte hates to
admit it, but Jezreel's other form - The one inherited from his father - shames
them both. He tries not to show it because his friend can't help what he is.
He didn't choose his blood.
So it isn't fair for Nachte to openly despise it.
Especially since everyone else seems to. "You aren't just a Half Breed," Says
Ketjeer, leaning in to get a better look at his rival. "You're a monster." He's
sure to say it loud enough others can hear.
Nachte can't bear to see who else is looking at them now, closes his eyes.
He can't abandon Jezreel, but he doesn't want to stand next to him either. The
band burns in a way it hasn't in forever.
Jezreel turns his back to the boy, then. Lightly pushes Nachte further towards
the line that has moved away from them during their little chat.
"Jez," Whispers Nachte.
"Just shut up," Says Jezreel. His voice is watery. He's trying to keep it
together.
Trying not to embarrass Nachte any further.
xXx
It's a couple of weeks before Fall and everything, as far as Jezreel is
concerned, has smoothed out.
Nachte has gone quiet, so maybe things aren't as smoothed out as they could be.
Jezreel thinks he's just anxious about the new season and afraid of rejection,
but he can never be sure with Nachte, whose thoughts run a million miles a
second and appear out of the blue. Jezreel just can't predict what his friend
will say.
They're in the training yard but Jezreel has stopped to rest, is pretending to
meditate so Keava doesn't yell at him.
Nachte is powering through his forms.
"Slow down, Nachte," Says Homu, adjusting the stance of another student. "I
can't see how clean your forms are."
Nachte sighs. "There's nothing to see."
"Then do it again," Says Homu. "Slower."
Nachte is reluctant, sighs, and starts again, pausing between each stance.
"There it is," Says Homu, his hands making minor adjustments to Nachte's
stance, hands lingering in a way that makes Jezreel's hair stand on end. Nachte
doesn't seem to notice, entirely intent on the corrections.
xXx
"You shouldn't let Homu help you." Says Jezreel after training. They take the
left corridor through the Women's Wing. A route one of Nachte's friends
insisted was the fastest way through the Temple.
Nachte gives him a glance. "Why?"
"Because something is wrong with him."
He tries not to feel hurt when Nachte's expression says, And you're normal?
"He's a creep, okay?"
"Keava doesn't train 'creeps.'"
"She trained you," He blurts.
Nachte laughs, smiles for the first time in weeks. Everything is straightened
out.
Until Ketjeer comes in between them and the door to the bathing room. "You
outsiders are bonded, aren't you?"
Jezreel turns sideways just slightly so the old charm isn't visible to the
other boy, scrunches his nose. "What's it to you?"
Ketjeer looks genuinely curious. "If one of you dies, does the other?"
Nachte rolls his shoulders, thinking it's innocent enough. "It's plausible, I
suppose. Things like this are complicated but considering we're practically
forced to stay in each other's space, one could assume-"
"Nachte!" Says Jezreel. "Please."
Ketjeer darts forward, towards Nachte, knife sliding from his sleeve.
It's only a moment.
But that's all it takes for the knife to slide along the floor, bouncing off
Nachte's foot. Ketjeer is also on the floor, clutching his broken wrist,
Jezreel standing over him. "Try that again and I'll have your fucking blood."
Ketjeer brushes past them, disappears down the hall.
"I hate that you feel the need to mother me."
"I'm bigger with sharper teeth. People take me a lot more seriously."
"I don't care about being taken seriously. I care that you don't trust me to
watch my own back."
"It isn't your job to watch your back," Says Jezreel. "It's your job to watch
mine."
Nachte sighs, pockets Ketjeer's knife.
"You giving that back to him?"
"Finder's keeper's."
"If you say so."
"And I do."
xXx
The day before travel, everyone runs to and fro, trying to be where they're
supposed to.
Jezreel is packing, almost idly when his body hair starts to stand on edge.
Something is wrong. And not just a-hitch-in-the-plan wrong.
He tries not to seem panicked when he goes looking for Nachte, his internal
compass guiding him.
When he eases into the bathing room, there's grunting and the sound of flesh
hitting flesh.
Someone hisses.
At first, Jezreel thinks his instincts are seriously messed up, turns to slip
out and say he never knew what Nachte was doing.
"Not so sure of yourself without your pet freak, are you?" Asks Ketjeer.
Another boy snickers, Ketjeer's Second, Jezreel thinks. When Nachte doesn't
reply, Jezreel knows he can't leave.
He crouches low, eases to the source of the sounds.
The Second is kicking Nachte under the gaze of Ketjeer. The Half-breed can feel
his hackles rising. Is furious that Nachte isn't fighting back.
Ketjeer's knife dances along his skin. "I almost feel bad." Nachte stares,
baleful. The knife draws a red line along his cheek. "Survival of the fittest
though, right?"
The knife draws downwards, makes little marks on his shoulder and chest.
Jezreel feels those cuts as if they were planted on his own skin.
He makes eye contact with Nachte, realizes his eyes are clouded and he has a
head wound.
Oh, Shoshunii.
Ketjeer runs his tongue along the lines he's drawn. This snaps Jezreel into
action. Ketjeer spins, knife arcing at a diagonal, Jezreel steps back, slips
and falls on his ass in time to miss the club the Second has swung towards the
back of his head, rolls to avoid a blow to his face.
"Keep him busy," Says Ketjeer. "I'll finish the other one."
Jezreel is barely able to make out his own words. "Don't you touch him!"
He doesn't know what happened between then and now, his teeth are clamped into
Ketjeer's shoulder.
The boy's voice hurts his suddenly more sensitive ears as he screams. Jezreel
feels the knife sink into his own shoulder once, twice, three times and he, not
even sure why, gives Ketjeer a shake. The tang of blood stirs something deep
inside. Rouses something Jezreel never knew was there.
There's a crunching of bones as Jezreel seeks that sweet metallic taste.
Blinding pain slices into his hind quarter and he turns to seek the Second's
blood, coming face to face with Keava. She looks ready to kill him. "Jezreel.
Take your bipedal form."
A shiver runs through him as he takes in the white fur and paws in the stead of
skin, hands, and feet.
When did he change?
There's a whip in Keava's hand, she gestures at him with it. "Don't make me
tell you again."
Bones realign, fur twists in on itself, becomes skin.
His muzzle decreases.
Ketjeer stares at him with an expression Jezreel isn't sure he's ever had
directed at him before.
He feels slightly sick when he finds a piece of flesh stuck between his teeth.
Keava is watching him like he might change back and murder them all. Hell, he
never even knew he could take it that far.
"He-He just tried to kill me," Gasps Ketjeer.
"Anything to say for yourself?" Asks Keava.
Jezreel points to a half-awake Nachte. "They were going to kill him."
Keava nods to her Assistants, they lift both boys onto carriers and take them
to the infirmary.
Keava takes a long minute, laces all but her index fingers and presses them
against her lips. "I should end you here."
"Please, don't," Says Jezreel. "I'm afraid of what will happen to Nachte."
She stares hard at him, searching for guile. "You can't stay here."
"I can't leave Nachte. There's another eight years before the charm wears off."
"When he is healed, you must leave."
Jezreel, under house arrest, doesn't go to the Trading Grounds.
But neither does Ketjeer.
xXx
At the gates, Nachte presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. "I can't
believe you did this to us!"
"I'm sorry, okay."
"No," Says Nachte. "It isn't okay! Why can't you ever keep that thing under
control?!"
"That thing is me, Nachte."
"I don't care if it's your grandmother! Sometimes I wish I was bonded to anyone
but you!"
"And sometimes I wish I could have let Ketjeer murder your skinny ass!"
Nachte pushes him, doesn't budge him an inch. "He wouldn't have had to murder
me if you'd never been born!"
Jezreel recoils at that, runs his tongue along his top teeth and gazes to the
left. As much as Nachte wants to be sorry, he isn't. He's heard what the adults
called Jezreel.
An abomination.
Heard them ask each other why no one killed him when he was young enough to cry
for his mother's breast.
And Jezreel seems to be aware of it, too.
"Sometimes," Jezreel says, his voice is tight, "I wish I were dead, too."
Nachte does feel sorry then. But he's too mad to say anything.
Jezreel trails behind him silently as Nachte walks in the direction of Kuden's
palace. He's probably crying. And that knowledge makes Nachte feel like an
utter bastard.
xXx
Nachte tosses wood on the fire, glances at Jezreel and sighs. "Shoshunii, stop
wasting water, you cry baby."
Jezreel glares at him, but there's no heat to it. "Don't act like a naresuan
and then tell me not to be upset."
"I can't help it. We've been walking for hours and if you keel over from
dehydration before we get the chance to refill our canteens, I am going to be
pissed as hell."
Jezreel rolls his eyes. "Because you aren't already pissed as hell."
"I'm trying to get over it, okay?"
"Right."
"Right," Says Nachte. "Now get over here, dumbass, before I freeze to death."
Jezreel is reluctant to sit next to him, the brands on their upper arms lightly
touching. It eases both of them slightly. A small comfort.
Nachte is always going to be in Jezreel's shadow. Both literally and
figuratively.
And in this moment, and every moment after, he's going to try to be okay with
that.
***** The Things That Change *****
Chapter Summary
     A glimpse of where Nishi and Yamna begin....
     And where Jezreel ends.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Get over here, you little tiny quajen!"
Jezreel has never heard a bonded speak to their partner like that before.
On the other hand, Nishi and Yamna are anything but normal.
Nishi is effeminate and small framed which forces him to have higher
aggression, other Full Bloods learn in five minutes not to fuck with Nishi.
Yamna, in contrast is about average in height and build.
But faints at the sight of blood and frequently relies on Nishi to get him out
of just about everything.
So, Jezreel lets the verbal abuse slide. Yamna really does need to man up a
little.
Nachte nudges against him. "I'm sorry I ever spoke to you that way."
Jezreel doesn't really need an apology from Nachte, is long over their dark
years.
Yamna is still hanging back, away from the scorched once-village. "There are
dead people in there," He whines.
Nishi scowls. "Get your ass over here or so help me-!"
Yamna, head low, dawdles as he approaches. "What if they try to get us for
disturbing them?"
"Then we kill them dead."
Yamna hops from one foot to the other, it's pretty comical. "Niiiiishiiii!"
"Bye, Yamna. We'll see you next year," He says. "Or eventually." When he turns,
grabbing both Nachte and Jezreel, as he walks into what's left of the Refuge.
Yamna tangles his hands in his hair, hops from one foot to the other again.
Jezreel pities him slightly.
When it's clear Nishi is going to leave him, he powers to the center of the
group and stays there.
Nishi shakes his head. "Finally, you quajen."
Jezreel is perplexed as to why any sane person would bond these two.
Himself and Nachte, he will grudgingly admit makes sense. Nachte is bright as
hell. Smarter than most - Even if his mouth and brain are clearly connected in
all the wrong places. And Jezreel can be smart. But he's really just the brawn
to Nachte's brain.
"It's deserted," Says Nachte.
Jezreel can't smell anything other than smouldering ash, can't hear anything
over Yamna's frantic breathing.
"We should move on," Says Nishi. His voice is pitched higher than any other man
Jezreel has met. Maybe that doesn't mean much.
xXx  
"What?" Asks Jezreel. "Worried we'll make fun of your dick?"
"That's funny coming from you," Says Nishi, wearing his undershorts into the
shallow river with them. It's waist deep and they're all guys. Nudity means
little to them.
Well most of them. "Does your dick change when you do that bear thing?"
Nishi, weirdly, isn't mocking him. He's respected Jezreel ever since he saved
them by changing and killing a giant Luuma - A scaleless snake - covered in
bare skin, with only a set of clawed forelegs and moderate intelligence.
If it hadn't been for Jezreel, they would have had a slow, agonizing death.
"Yeah," He says when he realizes Nishi and Yamna are waiting on a response.
Nishi draws his ears back, tilts his head.
"No, I'm not showing you my form again," Says Jezreel. Nishi thinks it's
awesome. But one of twenty Females he meets want anything to do with him when
they discover what he is.
Yamna seems relieved that Jezreel doesn't use his trick very often. And he'd
feel hurt if Yamna wasn't afraid of his own shadow.
xXx  
When he wakes, he's aware that he's alone, in the dark with an obnoxiously
snoring Yamna.
He wants, so badly, to smother him awake.
But there's a more pressing issue to deal with.
As he rises to his knees in their makeshift shelter, he catches a whiff of
something very familiar, it's agonizing when he can't place it. Frightening
when he realizes it's strongest on Nishi's bedding.
He throws blanket upon blanket over Yamna, hoping he'll look like a piece of
bedding should anything approach the oblivious coward.
Slipping out, he tries to locate Nachte. He's sorry to admit the man he's
bonded to comes first.
As he creeps through the trees, mindful that he's easy prey in nothing but his
shorts, he catches the same smell that was in Nishi's blankets.
His internal compass takes him down to the river, into a copse of trees.
There's heavy breathing, whispering. Jezreel feels anxiety trying to make its
home in his stomach. Nachte is breathless when he speaks to whomever he's with
- Nishi, likely.
Jezreel can feel his eyes trying to pop out of his skull when they are finally
laid upon Nachte and Nishi.
There's a lot more skin than the Half Breed has ever wanted to see in this
context.
He turns sharply, smacks into a branch and hisses a curse at the damn murderous
tree.
"Oh, fuck. Jez?"
"Nope," Says Jezreel. "Just a wandering sprite returning home after a long
night of What-the-fuck."
Nishi, straddling Nachte's lap, snorts. "Vouyer?"
"Fucking never," Says Jezreel. "You two never deemed it necessary to tell me
you were taking advantage of the Fall Season."
"The Fall Season is for opposite sex couples, stupid."
"Nishi!"
"That's right. Say my name- Oof!" The sound of Nishi hitting his ass on the
forest floor brings pleasure to Jezreel.
It's not that he's jealous, really. Nachte can bed whomever he wants.
But the very idea that Nachte likes men.....
Jezreel knows how Nachte feels about him, now. Shame. Guilt because of the
shame. And a touch of anger.
When Nachte grabs his arm, he pulls away. "You could have told me I was sending
the wrong gender to you year after year."
Nachte takes hold of his wrist. "It isn't what you think it is, Jez."
"Riiight."
He can practically hear the eye roll when Nachte sighs.
"H-hey," Says Nishi. Like Nachte is about to say something Nishi doesn't want
to be said.
Nachte comes into his line of vision. There's some message he wants to convey
with his eyes. "It isn't what it looks like." Too bad Jezreel is a horrible
mind reader.
Nishi is striding shirtless like the rest of them on an uncharacteristically
hot day, Jezreel notices that they don't act like a couple around Yamna. Nachte
is subtle when his eyes roam Nishi, who glances at him with sly smiles.
Nishi and Yamna are ahead of them, talking and laughing about some weird inside
joke between them.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Says Nachte. His voice is kept low.
"When were you going to tell me you..." Jezreel feels bad that he is so
disgusted with the idea, he can't even say the word for it. "Had a different
preference?"
"I don't!" It comes out as a hiss. "When are you going to believe me?"
"When you open your eyes and realize that you're gay," Jezreel spits the word
by pure accident. Nachte recoils slightly, "and you're having - you're
expressing it with Nishi and you didn't even trust me enough to say anything!"
Nachte's hands clench then. He stops and faces Jezreel, skin flushed with
barely contained anger. "Listen you stubborn bastard. Nishi isn't a-" He slaps
his hands over his mouth. Jezreel pauses, can't wait to hear Nachte talk his
way out of this one. The other man breathes deep, closes his eyes for a long
minute before opening them. Jezreel likes the blue-green color they are. His
hands drop and he swallows. "I trust you. I trust you a lot. But Nishi wasn't
ready for you... For Yamna to know."
Jezreel sort of understands it. Yamna would have an utter breakdown and think
Nishi was doing things to him in his sleep or some stupid shit like that.
But why doesn't Nishi trust him?
He's rutting with Nachte, who - at least somewhat - trusts him. It weren't as
though he could slay either of them for this.
Oh, Shoshunii, what else was Nachte keeping from him? Was it bad enough that he
would slay them?
"Hey," Says Yamna. "Why don't you slowpokes catch up?"
Nachte and Jezreel will have to finish this conversation later.
 xXx
"What's wrong with him?" Asks Nishi when Nachte presses an arm against
Jezreel's forehead.
"Not sure."
He knows he's feverish, his muscles ache, strain to stay in this form and take
the other. Have been for two days straight now.
"Can you hear me, Jez?" Whispers Nachte.
"Yes." Jezreel thinks he's wheezing. Shoshunii, what's wrong with him?
"I told you we should have stayed another night in that town!"
"Shut up, Yamna."
He feels hot and cold and sweaty. He's dying, isn't he?
Nachte wipes his forehead with a wet cloth. "Nishi. I need you to get us a
healer."
Nishi squats near Jezreel, pats his face. "We'll get you through this, Jez.
Just hold on."
Yamna goes, too. Sobbing about how he and Nishi ought'nt to be alone.
There's nothing Jezreel or Nachte can do.
"I'm sorry." Jezreel manages when they're gone. "I couldn't.... accept you for
what you are."
Nachte sighs, grips his hand. "You still can't, stupid."
"That doesn't mean I don't love you, Nachte." He gives his friend's hand a
squeeze. Gains enough control of his body to smile. "No homo."
"God, I should smother you."
The doctor shakes his head. "I'm sorry but I can't let him live."
"What's wrong with him?" Asks Nishi, blocking the doctor's way out.
"His hormones are wrong. Imbalanced. His body is going to give out soon because
it is confused as to which form it should take. His organs will burst from the
stress."
"Can he just switch from one to the other? Can it be that simple?" Asks Nachte.
The healer shakes his head. "Try to make him comfortable. He won't last more
than a few days. I can get you a sedative. It'll be less horrific."
Nishi snarls. "Fix him."
"It isn't so easy."
"Then make it so," Says Yamna.
"No. There's a reason Skin-Walkers are forbidden from interbreedering and I
won't encourage it."
Nachte takes hold of the healer then. "You will try. Or I will skin you while
you beg for mercy." The other pair closes in as emphasis.
"Okay! Okay!" Says the doctor, his voice making a strange warbling sound that
Nachte finds he appreciates.
The pills ease everything.
From the aches he's learned to ignore since puberty, to the shuddering of his
body, to the new pain of wounds that have inexplicably appeared.
The doctor says it was his body literally tearing itself apart.
When the doctor scurries out, Nachte grabs him by the collar. "Don't go too
far, we aren't through with you."
The doctor bares his teeth and Nachte releases him.
The next two days are spent getting Jezreel back to traveling condition.
Then they're on the road again.
"Where should we go?" Nishi wonders.
Jezreel shrugs. "Wherever makes you happy."
"Can we visit a Human town?" Asks Yamna. "I would love to see them."
"So you can cower and beg them not to kill you when one of the men so much as
looks at you?" Snarks Nishi.
In the tavern, Jezreel keeps his head on the table, trying to drink but really
not up to it.
Nishi takes the mug from his hand. "What a quajen." Jezreel watches with envy
as Nishi downs it in one swift go.
"Jeez," Says Nachte. "Slow down, Nishi. Who are you competing against?"
"Myself."
"That's stupid."
"So are you," Says Nishi.
A girl, fine blonde hair and soft eyes settles herself, lightly, at their
table, smiles sweetly. "Any of you handsome men want to buy me a drink?"
Nishi laughs. "Yeah- No."
Jezreel would, but he's not in the mood to let her return the favour with some
classic two-back-beasting.
Yamna is broke (as always.)
"Why not?" Says Nachte.
Both Jezreel and Nishi watch them swagger over to the bar.
Nishi has a white knuckled grip on his mug.
"I wouldn't worry about him," Says Jezreel like he doesn't know how often they
copulate. "I think he's gay."
Yamna slams his hands on the table. "What?! I knew it!"
"You don't know shit," Says Nishi.
Jezreel finds this whole thing kind of funny.
The glass in Nishi's hand shatters when the girl kisses Nachte on the cheek.
Yamna jumps back, knocks his chair over. "Don't kill us!"
Nishi gives him a look. "Sit your ass down. You're making a scene."
When Nachte and the girl return and sit at the table, Jezreel's partner looks
at the shattered glass on the table and rolls his head on his neck. "God,
Nishi, learn to hold your liquor."
"I'm Triska," Says the girl before Nishi can say anything hurtful.
Jezreel, technically at the top of the would-be hierarchy, introduces himself
first. Nachte, if he weren't already introduced, would have gone next, Nishi
introduces himself instead. Yamna complains about them making him go last but
at the dangerous look he gets from Nishi, he behaves himself.
Her eyes close, head tilting. "It's nice to meet you."
"So where did you come from before this?" Asks Jezreel, chin on his folded
arms.
"The Pride. Father, that bastard accused me of some things and the rest of them
- Gullible sheep to a wolf, they are - believed him. They chased me out and I'm
surprised I made it alive."
"What did they accuse you of?" Asks Nishi.
"Oh," Says Triska, eyes filling with tears. "It's too horrible to repeat." When
Jezreel searches her face for guile, he finds it.
Although, he hopes he's just reading too much into her expression.
She somehow, ends up joining their little group.
"Maybe we can start our own Pack!" Says Yamna. "We can call it, the Herd!"
"Why in God's name would you...." Mutters Nishi in exasperation.
"Or," Says Triska. "The Bonds!"
"Um," Says Nachte. "Creating a Pack requires land. Who wants to go to war with
a real Clan?"
"Not me," Says Jezreel.
Triska looks at him. "You could totally go toe to toe with Chiikets and you
don't want to start your own bloodline, legacy, or even Clan that will continue
after you?"
"Nope," Says Jezreel.
"It's touchy," Says Nachte in reply to the odd look she takes.
"Oh," She says.
xXx
He lies down beside Jezreel in the dark, as creepy as it is, he knows it's
Nachte by the way he walks, breathes and which direction he pulls the blankets
when he slips under them.
"I had a horrible dream," He whispers. His bare hand tangles in Jezreel's hair.
"Did you?"
"I had a dream that Nishi and Yamna were killed in front of us."
Jezreel's hand on his thigh probably seems half-assed for comfort. But hugs are
off limits when it comes to Nachte.
"Then eschneider got you. Shoshunii, Jez. They were eating you while you were
still alive and-"
"It's over. It was just a dream. Nishi and Yamna are safe and I'm utterly
unbitten."
Nachte lies facing him, blue-green eyes searching his in the dark. "Promise you
aren't dead?"
"I promise, Nachte."
They lie there like that for a long time. And Jezreel knows that Nachte can see
him drifting off. "Jez?"
"Mmm?" It's more of a grunt than a response. Sleep is rushing up like flood
water to meet him.
"No homo."
He can't resist a smile. "I love you, Nachte."
"Nishi?" Asks Jezreel as he comes into the other man's room.
When Nishi steps out of the bathroom nude, he hisses, tries to hide himself.
But it's too late.
Jezreel feels like an utter moron. Nachte has been telling the truth for the
last year and a half. Nishi's pubis has no sign of masculinity.
"You're a woman," Says Jezreel before Nishi can make it back to the bathroom
and never come out again.
She turns to him then, eyes dark, lips firmly closed. Shoshunii, everything
makes sense now.
Jezreel still feels like an idiot. "I thought you were ashamed of your dick.
Thought maybe someone had done something bad to it."
Nishi sighs. "You can't tell anyone."
"Why?"
She keeps her back to him. "You just, can't. Got it?"
"Have you been having sex with Nachte to keep your scent under wraps?"
"It was getting bad. Nachte offered with no strings attached."
Ironically, Jezreel can clearly see the strings.
They're fine threads that mean Nachte cares about Nishi.
And Nishi really cares about Nachte.
Jezreel has plenty more questions but it's in this moment that Yamna stampedes
in. "Nishi! There's a bug in my bathtub! I tried throwing things at it but it
just won't die!"
"Just wait then. I'll get dressed and kill it."
Jezreel wonders if Yamna knows. He has to, right?
When Nishi shuts the door firmly behind him- er, her, Yamna pops his neck. "Why
are you in the same room with Nishi while he's naked?"
"Is that a capital offense?"
"No." Yamna's voice drops. "But you know how Nishi is about people seeing him
in the buff."
"Especially since he's not a he."
Yamna gives him a horrified look. "I know Nishi looks feminine. He just can't
seem to temper it. Don't get the wrong idea." Yamna twiddles his thumbs. "The
last group we were in, the leader tried to hurt Nishi during the Fall Season
because he believed Nishi was a girl. It still gives me nightmares."
Why was Nishi lying in the first place? "He tried to force Nishi to lie under
him?"
"The only thing that saved us was our leader's Chosen. We left after that."
"Did you defend Nishi?"
Yamna's only response is to raise his shirt, baring an old, jagged scar that's
stretched across his middle.
Nishi doesn't change. Even with Triska around. But she doesn't like Triska, so
Jezreel isn't surprised.
And Triska, while interesting, is hiding something just as big as Nishi.
It's bad that everybody is hiding something from everybody else.
Worse that Triska makes him nervous.
He's relieved that Yamna actually does defend Nishi when it's needed, even if
he's only as violent as a meek.
xXx
"So I've been thinking we should do some hooking up with some ladies," Says
Yamna when Fall begins it's approach.
"You can," Says Jezreel. While Yamna can do what he wants, the Half Breed would
be the apex predator if this were a real Clan. His blessing is an important
one.
Nishi shrugs. "I guess it'd be kinda fun."
Triska looks exasperated. "So what? Am I suddenly not a lady now that I've
joined up?"
"Nobody wants your dirty quajen," Says Nishi.
Nachte smacks her on the arm. "Not cool." To Triska, he says, "We think of you
as family now. So sex with you is sort of awkward."
Triska quirks a brow at Jezreel who shrugs. "Sorry."
It's not that he doesn't find Triska attractive, he's just worried she's going
to pull some trick out of her sleeve at the last moment and make everybody
sorry.
"Why don't you have tits?" He asks Nishi. They're both watching the Yoksa chick
she picked up in the Spring circle in the air above them.
"My mother desperately wanted a boy." Is all that comes out. "Someone
eventually intervened. Paired me with Yamna so that I could come out of my
shell."
"Did you?"
"Yamna used to be different," She says. The bird of prey lands, somewhat
forcefully, on Nishi's shoulder. "He made me the person I always wanted to be."
"You don't have to be a man to do that."
Nishi strokes the yoksa's head. It makes a strange little noise and flutters
its wings. "I do in this world."
When Jezreel notices the yoksa bird on the floor, unmoving, he knows something
is wrong. Nishi has loved it too much to let anything bad happen.
There's gasping and sobbing.
Seeing an outsider on top of Nishi makes him queasy. Seeing Yamna unmoving
nearby makes him so angry he feels dizzy. When he goes to change, the man looks
up.
Jezreel is suddenly in limbo, unable to fully take one form or the other. The
pain that comes with it makes it hard to focus.
He doesn't know when Nachte came in, or even how he found them.
But he is shocked when Nachte cuts open the back of the man's neck and throws
him to the ground.
Jezreel is instantly released into his mother's form.
The man can do nothing as Nachte tears him open with his blade and Jezreel
can't bare to watch when Nachte cuts the outsider's dick off.
When the man's eyes lose their light, Nachte is breathing heavily, painted with
blood. Nishi is still crying.
And Yamna is still unconscious.
He watches Nachte's shoulders go from squared to slumped as he checks Yamna's
pulse. "He's still with us."
Nishi practically crawls over, wraps Yamna in her arms and pulls his head
against her breast. She looks like hell has just chewed her up and spit her
out.
Nachte touches her hair, kept short to keep the masculine image. She sobs into
his shirt.
When they're settled into bed beside one another, Nishi finally stops crying.
There's a hiccup or a sniffle every now and again, but she's mostly quiet.
Nachte slides the door shut, sits in front of it. "Yamna isn't waking up."
"I know," Says Jezreel. "Let's give it a little more time."
"How did he even get in? There's no way he could have fought and won with two
against one, Jez."
"Triska." It slips out as the thought appears.
"What?"
"Have you seen her? I'm worried she's been harmed as well."
Nachte shakes his head. "I'd help you look, but-"
"Don't worry. You keep them under guard and I'll see if she's okay."
He searches the house and finds her in the yard. "Are you okay?"
"Never better," She says. At first, he thinks it's sarcasm. That the outsider
has raped her, too. But her pupils are blown wide when she looks at him.
"Have you been drugged?"
"Opium is a beautiful thing."
Jezreel is taken aback by that. "But it's bad for your body. You'll get sick
using it."
"I haven't this far."
"That's because you're too high to tell."
She shrugs.
"Did the intruder hurt you?" Asks Jezreel.
"No. Did he hurt you?"
"No. Nishi and Yamna are injured. Do you know anything about that?"
"Yamna wasn't supposed to get hurt."
He can feel his blood chill. "Was Nishi?"
"He said he just wanted to know if he was a girl."
He kneels in front of Triska, takes her by the shoulders. "Did you plan this?"
She blinks slowly at him. "Where are we?"
When Nishi starts screaming in the middle of the night, Jezreel gets up. Even
though he thinks it's probably nightmares.
Entering, he finds Nachte trying to revive Yamna. "He's not breathing, Jez."
His tone says, Do something!
Nishi is trying to breathe air into his lungs, Nachte is pressing down.
But Jezreel is at an utter loss. There's no time for a healer to get there. No
real way to make him breathe again other than what they're doing. If Jezreel
tries it, he'll break Yamna's ribs by accident.
Eventually, Nachte takes his pulse, lets out a shuddering breath and takes
Nishi by the arm before she can try to breathe life into him again. "He's
gone."
"No," Says Nishi. "No. Yamna!" She's gripping his shirt, burying her face in
his chest. Screaming her grief to him. Nachte and Jezreel are silent, letting
Nishi alone in her pain.
Jezreel is left to wonder if he or Nachte will die first. Will it be in good
circumstances or bad? Will they cry for the other the way Nishi is doing or
just walk away and turn the house into a funeral pyre?
A glance at Nachte says he's, at least partially, thinking the same thing.
"Did you and Yamna talk about what you wanted to do if the other died?" Asks
Nachte.
Triska is sitting at the table with them, eating her breakfast with the zeal of
a five year old.
Like they didn't just lose one of their own.
Her pupils are still huge, though. So Jez tries to remember she's not all
there.
Nishi shakes her head. "No. We never thought about it once."
"Then let's pick a nice place to bury him, okay?" Asks Jezreel, reaching across
the table and taking Nishi's hand.
The place she picks is out in a field. Yamna's favorite flower blooms in
abundance here.
Triska is off chasing butterflies, oblivious to Nachte and Jezreel digging a
grave through blurry, tear-filled vision.
"Triska goes next," Whispers Nachte.
"Tempting," Says Jezreel.
Nishi is laying beside him in the field when they're ready to lay him in the
dirt. He's wrapped in Jezreel's blanket, settled into a box that's made of
sweet smelling wood. Letters are put into the box before Jezreel seals it. They
don't read them out loud.
It's a struggle, between the effort not to just drop him into the hole and
keeping a hold on their grief until they're done, they've exhausted themselves.
They dig a space for the marker next. Dripping with perspiration in the hot
summer as they work to slide the marker, a thin, rectangular stone with his
name etched into it, into the hole, packing the dirt tight around the bottom so
it stays standing. The stone has a rack chiseled onto the top so they can hang
things on it.
Nishi hangs a long flower chain over it, intertwining it with the juts of the
stone. Nachte strokes her hair as he settles a stone with Yamna's favorite poem
on it.
"He always wanted me to stop being something I wasn't," Says Nishi.
"Now is as good a time as any," Says Nachte.
Over time, Nishi's clothes become more feminine, she still wears gloves instead
of a Mokk'et but lets her hair grow out and Jezreel buys her another yoksa
bird.
She names it Yamna.
"So, what do you wanna do after lunch?" Nishi has become pretty hot over the
year. And even though she's (openly) Nachte's, Jezreel does tend to look her
over.
But he knows better than to touch. "Want to head down to the lake?"
"In this weather?" Asks Triska.
It's freezing and they're all bundled up, walking back from taking care of
Yamna's grave. It still hurts like a bitch.
But they're getting used to it.
"Yeah!" Says Nishi. "Let's throw caution to the wind! Isn't an occasional dip
in cold water good for you?"
"I'm out," Says Nachte.
"Whimp," Says Nishi.
"That's 'quajen' to you."
Jezreel realizes Nishi hasn't used that word for awhile. Hasn't called anybody
a pussy in the last several months and that weirds him out.
"We should start a Clan. For Yamna," Says Triska. There's snow in her lashes
and she's only spoken once the entire time. Jezreel wonders how long she's been
stewing over this. "If you mate with Females, you can steal them from other
Clans. We can build it that way." Speaking of weirdos.
Nachte shakes the snow from his cloak. The awkward way he does it makes Jezreel
think of birds shaking off water. "There's still the issue of land, Triska."
"We can't roam forever."
"We can start in the old building," Says Nishi. Yamna settles onto her shoulder
and caws in agreement. Jezreel is surprised it doesn't knock her over. "Many
people are afraid of that place."
"But we can't have offspring there," Says Nachte.
"If we rigged everything right, no one would even know we were there for at
least a year."
"You've been thinking about it?" Asks Nachte.
"I've been thinking about a safe place to have children. We could hide them
there until they're fast enough to run."
Nachte and Jezreel share a look. "I guess we can try it," Says Jezreel.
After lunch, they pack their things, charting their course to the center of the
island.
Halfway there, Nishi confesses. "I'm sorry for manipulating you."
At first, Jezreel is disappointed. Angry.
"I'm pregnant."
And then everything makes sense again. She wants a safe place to nest.
When the baby comes, something is wrong and Jezreel can't tell what it is. But
when he pulls his hand away, Nishi is bleeding.
"Jez," Says Nachte.
"I can't," Says Jezreel. There's blood on his hands and Nishi is screaming as
the contractions take her. He wishes he could give her his meds to ease her
pain.
"Jezreel!"
"I'm trying!" Is the only thing Jezreel can say. Because he is. He's doing
everything he can and Nishi is slipping through his fingers. He might lose the
baby, too, if he isn't careful.
Nachte takes her hand. "Stay with us, Ni."
She smiles weakly, Jezreel finally has his hands on the baby as Triska
(surprisingly) takes control and, with Nachte's help, fixes whatever is wrong
with Nishi.
At first the baby doesn't give any indication of life.
When Jezreel cleans him, he still doesn't. When the Half Breed is really
starting to panic, he lets out a yowl that makes Jezreel jump. Everyone else
looks up.
"Jeez, Nachte. He sounds just like you." Jezreel feels just a touch of jealousy
when he watches Nachte take his son in his arms. Wonders what it feels like.
And the joy on Nishi's face when she and Nachte look to each other makes
Jezreel's heart lighter.
But Nishi dies from fever within the week.
They lie her in the ground next to Yamna. And Nachte is overcome with grief.
Triska leaves them be for a few days, says she has some business to attend to.
She really just needs some alone time, Jezreel thinks. Yamna lands on his
shoulder, rests there. He's heavy with sharp claws.
The baby sleeps between himself and Nachte at night because Nachte genuinely
believes Jezreel is next on death's list.
"Have you thought about a name?" Whispers Jezreel.
"Maybe after his mother."
"Nishi is a good name."
"Maybe Noshiim."
"Or Nishiir."
"Yeah."
xXx
When Triska returns, she starts showing interest in Jezreel.
He's both surprised and yet not that she is. But Nachte needs him. Everything
else is on the back burner. So when her hand slides up his thigh while they're
at a booth, waiting on a meal to take back to Nachte, Jezreel never sees it
coming.
He isn't even sure if he should encourage her or push her away.
xXx
Jezreel visits Nachte in the house they used to share with the last two bonded,
(Gods how nostalgic.) and finds the boy is startlingly curious.
He looks like Nishi.
He also hates Triska. Calls her Aunt Scary Face.
Jezreel finds it funny but Triska doesn't at all.
Jezreel can't even remember why they separated but he thinks Nachte
unconsciously blames Jezreel for Nishi's death. Jezreel can handle that.
"I sent Naori to Inan," Says Nachte when Jezreel visits again and finds only
his friend.
Jezreel can't help but thin his lips. "I don't think I can agree with that."
"Miinda is still there. Naori says she's a real hag."
"Nachte," Says Jezreel. "Inan will make him war fodder."
"He has signed in blood a promise that Naori will be kept safe."
"Yes but Inan is a Fall Back. Everything you think you know, you might not."
Nachte sighs. "I know."
When he brings Rozolyn to Nachte, his friend frowns. "You're kidding."
"I'm not."
"Why?"
"She needs somewhere to go."
"It looks bad to Naori if I keep her."
"Then lets go get him."
As it turns out, war has forced Inan, once again, to bond boys and send them
out. Naori is long gone.
"You bastard!" Nachte is so angry he's practically spitting.
"It was all I could do to keep his life."
Nachte begins a collection of strays then, always praying the next one will be
Naori.
There's pain like fire all over his limbs and he gasps for air but there isn't
any and Nachte knows Jezreel is dying.
He tries to stand, the chair behind him clatters to the floor and Nachte
follows, gripping his chest through his shirt.
The band on his arm, having never faded with the charm, feels like it's
constricting.
He thinks he's screaming from the agony. Thinks he screams Jezreel's name a
time or two.
Just when his vision starts to narrow from the pain, it becomes bearable. His
body is still trembling with the aftershocks. His breathing is ragged.
The trio he's been babysitting have gathered around him, asking him questions
and prodding at him.
When the tightness in his chest ceases, he feels overwhelmingly alone.
Jez is dead.
And he knows he should stop crying. It's bad for the trio's moral.
But he cares about that very little at this point.
"I need you three to manage without me for a few days," He tells them as he
pulls on his jacket. He has waited until he can think straight to take this
trip.
They nod. "We'll be fine," Says Kira.
The trip to Jezreel's house is swift, only takes a day when he'd usually draw
it out.
He's relieved when it's still standing. White paint and waist-high picket
fence.
Jezreel loved the way this place looked. Had spent every ounce of quint he had
to secure it to play House in.
Triska was the mommy, Jez the daddy. And Renjin their prized little girl.
Although Nachte always suspected Jez was grooming her for something else.
Instincts were instincts and a non related female coming of age never did bode
well.
He stops by Jezreel's favorite tree to lie under. Finds Triska has decided he
should lie under it permanently.
He sits near the turned earth and breathes deep. Triska will see him any minute
and come to greet him so crying is not a smart thing. "I wish I had stopped by
a little sooner," He says. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."
When the grief begins to overwhelm him, he stands. The dirt clings to his
clothes and he lets it.
When he slides open the front door, he takes off his shoes, brushes the dirt
off his pants before entering. "Triska?"
The silence that greets him sets him on edge. Their shoes are still by the
doorway but things are knocked over - Signs of a struggle. There's no food in
the cabinets. Jez's meds are gone, too.
There's blood in the backroom and in Renjin's. The door to the backroom is
broken. Triska's jewelry is gone but the clothes in every drawer are untouched.
The portraits in the hallway have been left alone.
Nachte is scared. It makes sense for them to leave. But it doesn't make sense
to leave the necessities. He stops, washes his hands with Jezreel's favorite
soap. Lies in Jezreel's bed as he tries to understand what's going on.
They've vanished into thin air.
Shuffling feet alert him and he slinks back into the shadows.
A man is muttering to himself about a third person to shake down. Nachte knows
the third person is him.
When the door slides shut, blocking out the light, the man whirls around to
meet Nachte, who's already three steps ahead.
The man falls to the floor, gasping, when Nachte lays into him.
"Shut up," Says Nachte. "Tell me where they are."
"Who?"
"The woman and girl you took from this household!"
"Master Naija has them!"
"Good," Says Nachte. "Now tell me where exactly Naija is."
He's going to kill anyone that stands between him and Jez's family.
And he's going to bring those two home.
Chapter End Notes
     I at some point think (as I always do) that more details will be
     added to this chapter.... At a later date.
***** Father *****
Chapter Summary
     Chikotsu is nothing like his Father...
     Shiseken is furious.
     Sasayo is clever. He also knows when not to play games.
"What happened?" Kajmir asks Chiikets while they're waiting for the women to
finish preparing Shen's body.
With all the weeping, Kajmir knows they have some time.
But Chiikets says nothing.
"Listen," Says Kajmir. "It looks really bad. And if anyone saw Renjin the way
she was-"
"She's dead. Shen is dead. It's behind us."
"You aren't dead yet, my friend. And it's wrong to sweep them under the rug
like they meant nothing."
Chiikets tenses then. Kajmir knows that everything Chiikets has done was for
his brother. And maybe he shouldn't have worded it like that - but there's
nothing for it.
"Kajmir...." His hands splay out on his thighs, palms up. "If I try to face it
right now, I won't make it to my Aunt's house."
Kajmir lets it drop. But he never gets the chance to ask again. Chiikets is
sure to distance himself, never to be alone with Kajmir.
And then, when Kajmir resolves to corner him, to force it out with every trick
he has -
Chiikets is dead.
 
When Shiseken comes to him, kicks the peg on the other side of the tent so it
collapses, the meeks underneath it panic and squeak in fear.
Sasayo almost wishes he could join them when he sees the fire in her eyes.
He really regrets not holding her down and mating with her last Fall.
"What do you think you're doing? Ruining Chiikets' blood by allowing our son to
choose a Tarshish?" Her voice is calm, but she looks like she might just try to
kill him depending on his answer.
"There's nothing I could have said to change his mind."
Shiseken draws up to her full height, illusion of submission vanishing like
mist. "You are the Leader of this Pack. Don't you dare keep telling me you have
no control over these cubs."
He knows she's also talking about Niiniai. "What do you want me to do?"
"Wipe out those damn Tokos, for one. It isn't that hard. Especially not to kill
Rozolyn's branch."
"You still blame her for Chiikets' death," Sasayo says slowly.
"If she had been injured instead of him, he would have survived that battle
with Kenjin."
"We don't know that."
Shiseken's expression says she clearly does.
Sasayo throws up his hands, meeks forgotten for the moment. "Thinking 'what if'
isn't going to change the fact that he hasn't been here for seventeen years. We
can't go back, Shise."
"But we can keep history from repeating itself."
Sasayo takes her in. He wishes he could lead her to an optimistic conclusion.
"We can't always control everyone, Shiseken. We just can't."
She folds her arms.
"And I'm not trying to deliberately ruin Chiikets' blood. She's barren anyway.
At some point, she'll flee or his biological urges will kick in."
She glances away from him.
"Okay," He says. "So we kill the Tarshish, which alienates Chikotsu from -
Oh... You know. Everybody." She rolls her eyes at his drama. "And then we kill
Rozolyn. What about Renjin and Anayo? Aren't they nearly impossible to
overcome?"
"Not the Minnow. Killing the Human she's polluted her blood with will leave her
open."
Sasayo stares at her. "Oh, Yinkya. That's low."
She glances at the meeks. "Sometimes, you have to get your hands dirty."
"But not us. We can't do that shit."
She raises an eyebrow at him. And he braces himself for the backlash of what
he's about to say. "Chiikets tried playing by their rules. Renjin, our closest
neighbor, despises every last one of us, now. Shen is dead. And you feel like
our Father betrayed you." He thinks this is the reason for her hostility. She
can't take it out on Chiikets. Didn't even know what he had done until Chante
came forward with it years later, having heard the tale from some woman he was
having sex with at the time.
She had witnessed the entire thing and tried to blackmail Chiikets with it.
Sasayo still doesn't know why she stood by - listened to Renjin's desperate
cries and Shen's dying breaths - and allowed it to happen. Doesn't know why
Chiikets hid it away and didn't face it, especially when Renjin came back,
seething with rage and thirsty for his blood.
When they went to Kajmir with it after Chiikets' death, he kept his mouth
firmly closed.
That, in itself, was horrifically damning.
Worse still, Chiikets said Renjin had died protecting Shen. That Anayo had
murdered her before he could step in.
Shiseken was devastated when she found he had lied to her.
Had neglected Chikotsu when the full extent of his father's actions came to
light, torn between love for her son - All that is left of Chiikets - and the
hatred for how blind she'd been. Not to mention her inability to cope with the
very idea that Chiikets would stoop so low.
She's still unable to deal with it, even sleeping with another man, she feels
the need to both hurt and care for Chikotsu.
Chiikets has done his widow a horrible disservice.
Has tarnished how the entire Clan sees him. And yet, it is of no concern to
their once-leader.
He's in the ground, sleeping for eternity. And they're stuck with questions and
devastation.
Sasayo loves Chiikets - Even now - but he is also deeply angry. Wounded that
the man he called Father wasn't who they believed him to be.
Shiseken both tilts her head and turns it away, charcoal coloured hair hiding
her face. "You're right." Her hands clench, white knuckled, before releasing.
"But we should have no more to do with them."
Sasayo wishes he could agree. "I think it's time you either get real with
Asier, have another son with him maybe, or depart and do some serious soul
searching."
When her eyes, naturally just this side of narrow meet his, he knows she is
processing the pros and cons of each option. "If I have another son, Chikotsu
will be pushed aside."
"He doesn't need you at his side every moment at this point. He needs to
stretch and see how far he can go."
Shiseken is quiet for a little longer.
"If you leave, I want you to come back and stay from late Fall to early
Spring."
Her tone is carefully neutral. "And if I choose not to?"
He isn't really all that sure how she feels about sex with him. Has probably
never even considered it. But now is the time to be tough with her. "Then don't
come back at all."
She stares at him as though he's just struck her. "You can't-"
"I am the Father. Don't tell me I have no control." Throwing her words back at
her is cruel, unfair. "Your cubs will be in good hands." As an afterthought,
"Take Asier and Kendai. Go start over somewhere."
"And Chiikets' son? You can't honestly think that won't rip his heart out."
"We'll tell him you need to see what's out there and that his duties are here."
"You need me."
He's thrown at the sudden change. "And why would you think that?"
"You fully intend for me to bear your offspring, get attached to you so I won't
leave again."
He is reluctant when he says, "You're right. We do need you."
"Then give me some incentive to stay."
"Niiniai will be our only tie to their Clan." He breathes deep, isn't sure how
she'll react to his next suggestion. "And we'll marry Chikotsu to a second
woman of your choosing."
"A second woman?"
"We can't kill the first. The second wife will be able to bear him children.
She'll carry his favour."
Shiseken is reluctant, having known what it's like to share her man with
another.
"If I stay, am I still required to mate with you?"
"No. It is only if you leave or choose not to get serious with Asier."
No one is surprised when Shiseken and Asier marry.
Chikotsu despises it.
Refuses to attend the ceremony until Iris gently talks him into it, tells him
she'll wear the lingerie he likes so much.
She lets him ravish her that night and he's sure to focus on her pleasure until
she begs him to stop.
 
The sun on his skin is pleasurable as Iris curls against his side, under his
arm.
Her head and right arm lie on his chest.
A shadow over him disturbs his doze. "Interbreeders are the worst," Says the
owner of the shadow.
"Get over it. It's pretty common," Says Chikotsu. He can feel Iris shifting
against him.
"I think we should put a stop to it." Iris is suddenly jerked out from under
his arm and lets out a sharp scream. He's on his feet as a woman drags Iris by
her hair just outside of the Neutral Trading Grounds. A group of Full Bloods
are waiting there, rocks in hand.
No, Chiikets thinks, putting all the pieces together. No!
She doesn't scream when the first rock is thrown, nor the second. He knows it
has to hurt. Men grab him, hold him away from the people murdering his wife.
And his Mother is off to the side, watching.
"Stop them!" He screams at the top of his lungs. "Mother, please!"
She glances at him only once, her expression grim.
When it's over, they pull back. He realizes that the woman who started this is
Sho's Mother.
When he takes Iris' body in his arms, knowing the last two years of finally
winning her love are lost, he knows he can't keep playing Prince.
He has people to repay. And when he's King, when he is Father, he'll repay both
his mother who stood by, and Sho's Clan in full.
Sasayo is going to back down or die tonight.
"What are we doing?" Asks Sech like they're about to play a game he loves.
"Watch my back. If Kajiim attacks, don't kill her."
"What if-"
"Nothin' Sech. No accidents. No stupid shit. She lives or you're castrated."
"That's harsh, Oh Brother of mine." Sech grins, teeth glinting. "Or should I
say, Father?"
When he and Sech enter Sasayo's quarters, shoulders back. Sasayo instantly
knows what this is about. "Boys?"
"You're being demoted," Says Sech in a sing-song sort of way.
Chikotsu looks at him with love and worry but Sech's eyes are empty of any sort
of affection. They're hungry. Hopeful that he'll try to keep his place.
He backs down peaceably.
Kajiim is forced to stand naked before Chikotsu, eyes closed and hands fisted.
It's custom that a takeover isn't complete until the new Male has sex with the
old Male's Female.
And while Chikotsu traces her contours with a feather light touch, he hates the
idea of hurting Sasayo's relationship with Kajiim.
"Mother told me you were going to arrange a second wife for me?"
Sasayo sighs. "She wanted incentive to stay. Keeping your blood clean was one
of them."
"And Iris?"
"I knew you loved her. I couldn't bring myself to interfere anymore than that."
He's gentle when he brushes the hair out of his Father's wife's face. He's
starting to feel his instincts kick in.
Starting to want her.
But he loves them like family.
"I want my tattoo two days from now."
"Yes, Father," Says Sasayo. And it's surreal that the man he has always looked
up to, he now looks down upon.
He now has the power to do whatever he wants to whomever he wants.
When he walks down the hallway, Sech behind him, Kendai pokes her head out of
the kitchen and smiles at him. "Good evening, Brother!"
"That's Father to you," Says Sech as she returns to her duties.
Glass shatters and his half-sister comes running to him. "Ko, what have you
done?"
Chikotsu takes in the wispy hair that has escaped it's braid and frames her
face. Part of him wants to tangle his bare hands in it. And while, before his
ascension, that would have been fine. She was family. But now, not only is he
leader, he wants to touch her for all the wrong reasons. "He is still alive an'
well, Kendai."
When his mother comes out, he's quick to take her by the wrist and slice the
Jiira there.
The silence is so thick as the Jiira unravels, flutters to the floor, Chikotsu
could probably cut it, too.
His mother thins her lips. "You can do what you want to me. But don't you dare
touch Kendai's father."
"Then he leaves," Says Chikotsu. "And you are to be second to Kajiim."
"What purpose would you have for that?" Asks Kendai.
"Mother wanted Iris to be second to another woman. Now she'll know what that's
like."
"I already know," Says Shiseken. "Your father had sex with nearly every Female
during the Fall Season."
Chikotsu is fuming when he goes to exile his step-father. The man had mostly
ignored him, had some times even been good to him. This was the reason Chikotsu
was going to let him live. If he'd been unkind or unfair, he would be dead as
revenge on Chikotsu's mother.
Exiling him is simple. He doesn't want blood spilled.
As Chikotsu leaves the cabin, he brushes past his mother, says. "If you think I
was goin' to dirty my blood before. You are goin' to wish Iris was alive as
much as I."
The morning brings Iris' funeral. Almost everyone attends. Asier is gone and
his mother refused to go.
But he doesn't need her now.
And he never will again.
"Omel, Saimii. I want you to send word to the Toko family that our Prince
wishes to marry their daughter."
Kaiton turns red in the face. "That's practically incest!"
"I didn't say I actually intended for you to marry her."
Sech grins behind him like a Luuma that's caught the yoksa bird.
Shiseken is so angry when she finds out what he's doing, she orchestrates an
uprising.
It's quickly put down and she's sentenced to room arrest until she allows
herself to be married to Sasayo.
He feels pleasure wrapping those bands around her bicep and wrist, the sleeve
between complementing her skin tone.
Sasayo has a simple silver band around his bicep. He looks tired. Resigned.
His tattoo, in the exact same place his father's was, that Sasayo's scar is,
makes him seem more mature.
He visits Iris' grave constantly. Holds her silks against him when he sleeps
and tries to keep her sweet scent near him.
He finds out later that those who killed her got sick from the same sickness
and died horrific, painful deaths.
And Renjin's Human mate has killed Migi, Sho's mother.
"This is all about revenge, isn't it?" Sasayo asks him the day before Females
are going to jump him and try to bear his offspring.
"Iris was a good, strong woman. And now she's dead."
"Are you dealing with the blame you feel towards yourself by putting it on
everybody else?"
Chikotsu shrugs, not really sure how to respond.
Renjin sends a reluctant response. She doesn't like the idea that her only
daughter should marry into their Clan.
And he offers Omel in consolation.
Sech is understandably furious. "You can't do this."
"There's an understandin' that anything that happens ta Omel, Emma receives two
fold."
This quiets him.
Renjin, after two months of silence, sends a response.
She'll agree. But Emma will be sent to them at thirteen, not to be married
until fifteen.
Omel, six years younger than Chikotsu, will be sent and married to someone in
Renjin's Clan at that time.
"I don't want to go," Whispers Omel.
Chikotsu shakes his head. "I can't give em Kendai."
"Why not?"
"Because that creates an inbreedin' issue."
At Omel's strange look, he shrugs.
Emma would be his. He isn't sure who they'll marry Omel to. But he knows Renjin
will be careful.
Her daughter's life could hang in the balance.
Denii is melancholic after she receives the news, wants nothing to do with
Chikotsu.
And he's fine with that.
Asheer becomes one of his favorite people to bed. But he can't bear any sort of
affection in the bed he once shared with Iris. It's too much like a betrayal.
Too painful and easy to forget whom he's actually with.
Between his plotting, working his hands to the bone, his new responsibilities,
and Females jumping him, he's left exhausted by Winter.
"Not so easy, hmm?" Asks Sasayo as he leans against the door frame.
"How did my father ever get our Clan through to Spring?"
"Help. And by being the tough man he was."
Chikotsu perks slightly. "Really?"
"Your father could be the meanest son of a bitch I've ever met. But he always
pushed himself until he couldn't anymore. And then, when he could get out of
bed, he did it again."
"He sounds like he had an addiction to work."
"We have it a lot easier than we did. He wanted to spend time with you - with
the other cubs. But every time we turned around, something was going massively,
horribly wrong."
"Like?"
"Food shortages. Other Males putting the beat down on him. Anayo."
"He couldn't catch a break?"
"Not even with Chante, Mokko, Kajmir, Liv, and I," Admits Sasayo. "We just
couldn't keep the slack picked up."
Chikotsu sits up from his place face down on the bed.
"Our Clan was bigger back then, too. More people to house and feed and
protect." Sasayo's eyes grow distant. "I never once saw him cry about it. He
never complained or made any sort of stink about it. Always kept his shoulders
up while most men bowed under the weight of their worlds."
"I'm nothin' like my father."
"You're as much like him as you need to be." At Chikotsu's strange expression,
Sasayo says. "We needed a firm hand when he was our guide. But what we need
right now is our boy to come back to us. No vengeance or cruelty or violence.
We're past it."
"But my mother-"
"Had to be hard to bear your father. She's not any softer because she wants
vengeance, too, she can't have it."
"Why?"
"Because the man she wants it on is dead. She was wrong - Horribly, awfully
wrong - to let Iris die. But isn't your mother punished enough? She's married
to a man she isn't even attracted to, the man she loves is exiled, you're
marrying the daughter of the woman she hates - I'm old. Not blind. Don't look
at me like that. And you're sending Omel into foreign territory. That girl has
to be terrified."
"You're tryin' to talk me out of this."
"I'm trying to reason with you. Some of this, you're going to regret."
"Like what?"
"Your mother isn't going to live forever. Do you really want this hanging over
the two of you until the end of your life?"
"Don't you mean hers? The end of her life?"
"No, Son," Says Sasayo. "Fathers always die young."
"You didn't."
"I was lucky."
Chikotsu stops punishing his mother. But their relationship is long over.
Sex with the Females slows. But none bear his children. His mother bears what
many don't believe is Sasayo's.
And while Sasayo helps him get through the Spring, Chikotsu starts surrendering
more and more to him.
Until the day that Sasayo is Father once more. Chikotsu lets him have it. He
isn't ready for it and the anniversary of Iris' death is coming up. Her
birthday was during the Fall months.
"I let you have this to teach you what will be required when you really are
leader," Says Sasayo. "Next time, you will have to kill me."
***** A Family Torn Asunder (And Desire Discovered) *****
Chapter Summary
     Renjin's teenage years from when Jezreel ends to Takka's beginning.
Chapter Notes
     Obviously, Xerxes saving her is there but unmentioned in this
     chapter. I feel it makes it a touch redundant, seeing that it's
     mainly on how she gets to where she is.
     At some point, she'll be meeting Sanchu. But we're not there just
     yet.
     This chapter DOES have sexual content. And some slightly different
     biology... And something that's vaguely like knotting...
     So.... Enjoy.. I guess. And by all means, tell me how you feel about
     the weird anatomy.
"Renjin, I noticed the dishes have been washed."
When she looks up from her schooling, smiles at him, he knows why she did.
It had been a real pain to get her to do anything worth her while over the
summer. A wild child she is.
But Jezreel has almost tamed her.
"Do you want to go out to the pond a little later?"
"Will you go with me?"
He thinks of all the things he has to do today. The door to the back room needs
fixing, Triska wants him to beat the dust out of the rugs and replace the
shutters. His list goes on and by the end of it, he knows he won't have the
time to spend with the girl. "Sure."
He can deal with it later.
"Sit still," Says Triska. She hates the idea of Jezreel slacking but she knows
she can't really stop him. She twists Renjin's waist length locks back into a
braid. She's had practice from the time Jezreel continued with Keava's
standards: head shaved on the sides and the rest pulled back and plaited.
Sitting still for Renjin is almost impossible unless training is involved.
Teaching her meditation was the best thing he ever did.
He lets her carry the nets down to the pond. And while he doesn't think they'll
catch any frogs, he figures it's worth a try.
"Why don't we catch the fish?"
"Because they're too small."
"Uwa," She says. Looking out at their big bright world with childlike wonder.
Like it's the first time she's been outside.
"Have you thought about marriage, Renjin?"
Her eyes are curious, almost hopeful and Shoshunii if she isn't the sweetest
thing he's ever taken under his wing. "You aren't married to Triska."
"Well, I should be. It's wrong for me not to marry her."
"Why aren't you married then?"
"Because some people have commitment issues." Before she can ask him to
specify, he says. "It's time for you to think about getting married."
He has a few suitors picked out that he thinks she might at least be okay with.
If not, it'll show him which direction she's naturally inclined towards.
"You don't want me with you anymore...."
"You're fifteen. A young woman by our standards. And I think it'll make you
happy."
"I am happy."
"Happier."
Renjin is quiet for a long time as they tromp through the grass as tall as
Renjin's waist. She's definitely a woman. And he has to constantly keep his
eyes moving. Triska is prettier.
But Renjin is on the cusp of her prime.
Her profile is scrunched in what he guesses is agitation or thought. His arm is
slow to slide around her shoulders but her nubile form presses against his
willingly. Wisps of hair have escaped from the braid. They stick to her skin
that's flushed from being under the sun.
It's quite cool until one has been out long enough.
When she looks up, and up, and up at him, he wants to pull her closer. "How do
I know who I should marry?"
"A weak, worthless man will tell you only of himself. A good man will want to
know you, he'll want you to know him."
Renjin frowns.
"And always be sure to look at the way a man treats his family. Everything he
does to his mother and sisters, he'll shamelessly do to you."
They walk a little further. "But the best men will do what's good, even in the
face of death."
When they get home, Renjin is sunburnt and Triska covers her in oils.
"I hate this stuff."
"Me, too," Says Jezreel.
"You don't burn."
"I know. It makes you smell funny."
"Jezreel," Says Triska to the Half Breed's tease. Renjin sticks out her tongue.
 
When Jezreel wakes to a scraping sound by the door, he knows he's not by
himself.
There's shuffling and something like whispering.
When he lights the lantern by his pallet, he comes face to face with a grinning
creature.
He thinks, for a moment, about calling for Triska. A look around quells that.
The only chance his girls have is if he can lock the wooden door to the back
room.
He doesn't break eye contact with the creature when he slowly stands, bares his
teeth, and growls.
It watches him as he backs away. One of them hisses and tries to trip him and
he staggers, desperate to stay standing.
If he stays standing, he has a chance.
There's one inside the cupboard he opens, leering at him. He snarls and his
hand darts for the knife. As soon as his fingers wrap around the handle of the
blade, the creature grabs his wrist in its mouthful of teeth. He swears,
switches the knife to his left hand and tears into the creature with the blade.
When it screams and finally lets go, he runs as fast as he can to the door.
They're sinking their teeth into his legs as he fumbles with the lock. The key
goes flying when one of them finally shoves him down. The little bastards are
gleaming with his blood.
A swipe of his knife kills the one by his head but another is quick to fill its
place. He throws a few of them off but they always come back.
He actually isn't afraid to die, he notices.
He just really has things worth living for.
When Renjin wakes to something banging against the backroom door, she wonders
why it's closed. Triska is standing there, scrambling to unlock it, but she
isn't where the banging sound is coming from.
"Jez! Jezreel open the door!"
Something growls on the other side and Renjin tries not to panic.
Jezreel can't die, right?
Finally, she gets the door unlocked.
The scene before them will give Renjin nightmares for the rest of her life.
"Jezreel!" Her voice cracks as she screams. And the hairless creatures look up
at the same time.
"Fuck," Says Triska, grabbing Renjin's arm and trying to pull her back, out of
the way of the door. "We need to get the hell out."
"I'm not leaving."
They start to flood towards them like water in a burst dam. "He's dead. We have
to go."
"I said I'm not leaving!" Triska pulls away as flame shoots out of Renjin's
mouth and fingertips when she gestures. The squat creatures hiss and pull back.
"Don't like that, do you!" She screams at them, scorching the floor behind them
as they run in terror of her.
Triska is frozen in place, watching Renjin chase them out.
When she's done, she kneels beside Jezreel and buries her face in her hands.
Triska kneels, too, fingertips sweeping along his face.
His eyes flutter open. Take a moment to focus. His left hand lifts to Triska,
running his knuckles along her wrist. "Are you okay?" It sounds raspy and she
can tell his lungs aren't in good shape.
"We're fine," Says Triska. She sounds breathless.
"Renjin." When she pulls her hands away, she tries to focus only on his eyes.
His hand is gentle when it cups her cheek. She can feel that he's missing
fingers but his right hand is mangled even worse. "I need you to do everything
you can to look out for yourself and Triska." She nods, feels sick when she
realizes his blood is on the right side of her face now. It's all over Triska's
left arm. "Find a good man who will take care of you. And don't trust a man who
has a way with words. He'll pull one over on you." She can see him fighting to
keep the light in his eyes. "I love you, Triska. Renjin."
Renjin is gasping when she takes his hand in both of hers and says, "I love
you, too."
Triska clenches her teeth, runs her fingers through his hair until his eyes
close and his muscles slack.
"Come on, Renjin. It's only another ten feet." Jezreel is as heavy as she
expected him to be. There's no one to help them lay his body in the ground,
either. They've wrapped him in a sheet and put his nice clothes on him. But the
weight of the pain she feels seems to double his.
"Triska," Says Renjin. "What are we going to do now?"
"Finish this. Then we'll talk about it."
Renjin still feels lost when she and Triska decide to move to a Human
settlement.
They give it a week, time to pack up and say goodbye to Jezreel.
Two days before they leave, Renjin hears Triska talking to men.
She's caught Triska with a few different men over the years, but she feels the
burn of anger about it now.
She storms into the sitting room. "You can't keep doing this."
"Is this her?" Asks one of the men.
"That it is."
Renjin is baffled. "What?" Maybe Jezreel arranged for a suitor to come by.
"Triska, I know Jezreel wanted me to get married, but is there anyway to hold
off on it?"
Triska's expression turns slightly condescending. "Oh sweety, you aren't
getting married. And you're never going to be."
"Wait. Then why are you talking about me with them?"
She smiles and Renjin takes a step back, into the iron grip of a terrifying
man.
"You're right," Says a man. "She's worth three hundred quint."
"T-Triska?"
"Try to be a good girl. I told them you learn fast."
"Okay, ha ha," Says Renjin. "The joke's over now, isn't it?" Her eyes meet
Triska's emotionless ones. "Isn't it?"
The man backs out of the room and Renjin struggles, takes hold of the door
frame but one good pull from the man and Renjin's nails break, the bones in the
wrist he has taken hold of scream.
"Triska! Triska, please!"
"Now," She says as Renjin's voice begins to grow distant. Glass shatters and
the man swears. She almost pities the brat. They're nearly out the front door.
Triska holds her hand out to the leader, watching the man drag Renjin from the
yard via the window. Cold metal claps over her wrist instead of the smooth,
fuzzy bag of quint.
When her eyes widen, dart towards the manacle, he says. "You didn't really
think we were just going to let you walk away, did you?"
There are other girls in the wagon. A man sits inside and plays with a knife,
keeping them terrified and in their seats.
Renjin is too miserable to make a break for it anyway.
He puts the knife against her throat. "No funny business, got it?"
"It's sad that you feel the need to push around girls that have the fighting
potential of meeks." It slips out before Renjin can pull it back. "Are you
trying to compensate, or something?"
The man looks like he might hit her but she stares at him instead.
There's no reason to live anyway, She tells herself. The good of this world was
buried with Jezreel. All of his dreams and plans and goals for himself. For
Triska.
For her.
She grips her trousers and tries not to cry in front of the worthless trash.
"That's more like it," He says.
When they arrive, Renjin feels numb.
If she can't feel, then they can't hurt her.
The brothel is gaudy and huge. It doubles as a bathhouse.
They spend all day prettying the girls up.
Renjin is sitting in a tub, torn between spending some time pretending she
isn't in bad circumstances or just drowning herself.
A man steps in, sits in a stool by the tub. "Are you a virgin?"
Renjin is reluctant to open her eyes. "No."
"Damn shame."
"Yup."
"Oh well. We can make do."
Renjin shrugs. She doesn't care.
When they're done making Renjin 'pretty,' she feels uglier than when they
began. Did she really need that much paint? Her hair is cut and the calluses
are removed from her feet.
"Well, you aren't perfect," Says a man. "Only a little prettier than a luuma.
But the make up ensures the men can't tell."
Renjin glances at the mirror and hates how she looks. Her hair has too many
ornaments. Her feet are too soft to successfully run away, and they've pierced
the tragus of her ears.
The man grabs her by the arm and takes her down a hallway, there's a group of
men waiting in the room for them.
She's settled before the ravenous beasts and pours them tea like a docile
Female.
One of them grabs her arm and she tears it out of his grip.
Another grabs her jaw and turns it towards him, she struggles against a pair
that push her to her knees, raise her skirts.
She's pushed and pulled this way and that. "Anaya!" She doesn't know why she's
bothering. "Anaya!!" But she screams her sister's name at the top of her lungs.
Anaya never would have saved her - even if she were alive.
Something changes. Her hands move without being told to. Her fingers find their
home in a man's eye and he releases her hair. She takes the glass tea pot and
smashes it over another man's head.
Her vision blacks.
When she's aware of herself, she's calmly wiping the blood from her hands.
Something is standing behind her.
"I don't like you. I never even loved you. But I refuse to let anyone else use
you."
Renjin doesn't dare face it. Even when it stalks up behind her. "Walk with me."
She follows the ghostly figure away from the burning building, through the
woods.
"There's a boy you're going to take under your wing - Not yet. You'll know him
when you see him." The drifting fog adds to her malevolence.
"There's a reason for all of this."
"I want you to kill our brother. Tear our mother apart. Slowly."
At Renjin's horrified look, she says. "Oh, you're too weak. But one day. One
day, they're going to pay."
"I don't-"
"Don't think about it now." She stops in a clearing, listens intently. "You'll
know when it's time."
"Is there something I can do to lay your soul to rest?"
"No. And don't you dare try or every time you sleep, you'll relive Jezreel's
last moments."
At Renjin's look, Anaya smiles. "That a girl. Stand here."
Renjin is reluctant when she stands beside her sister. "And if you move an
inch, you'll regret it."
Her sister backs away, out of her vision.
Hands like ice wrap around her slim shoulders, lips brush against the shell of
Renjin's ear. "I'll see you later."
There's a nip of teeth against the shell of her ear and then she's alone in the
fog, no idea where she is.
She doesn't know how long she's there until the foliage starts shaking.
She fights hard to stay put.
 
There's smoke billowing into the sky and he's scared. Jezreel's family has
slipped through his fingers.
A girlish scream to his right startles him. He's quick to follow. The girl
might know where Renjin is.
Another scream draws him deeper into the forest.
A shadow passes between the trees. "Hey. Why don't you come out?" He follows at
a distance.
He catches a glimpse of brown with red tint. "Renjin? Whoever you are, please
come out."
The person finally stops behind a tree, squats and curls up on herself, breath
hitching as though crying but not sniffling.
He crouches, too. "It's okay," He says.
He approaches slowly. The moment his fingertips brush the tips of her hair, he
knows he's made a mistake.
It turns to him, eyes nothing but small holes, no nose and a mouth that folds
open like origami, and screams in a way that curdles his blood before knocking
him to the ground and screaming in his face.
Then it gets off of him and darts off into the forest, leaving him stunned and
gasping. "H-holy gods above!"
"Nachte?"
He jumps to his feet again. "Okay. I'm coming backwards. If you're another
demon, I don't want to see you coming. Just go on and end it."
"O....Kay."
He backs up slowly, squeezes his eyes shut and waits. When nothing happens, he
turns and finds a perplexed Renjin.
"If I were a demon, I'd be waiting for you to turn around."
"Thank the gods you're not."
"Superstitious?"
"I wasn't until just now," Says Nachte.
Renjin shrugs. "I didn't see anything."
"Lucky."
They begin their trek to the nearest shelter, but the inn only has one room.
They both lie in the bed. Nachte's breathing is deep and even, eyes closed.
But Renjin's mind is stirring, unwilling to quiet. She takes in his dark hair
and angular features. He's got a perfect bow to his lips even if his eyelashes
aren't that long.
She feels curiosity as to what his hands look like.
"Go for it," Anaya whispers from somewhere behind her. "You could probably even
pretend he's that Half Blood you used to wish would just bend you over."
Renjin makes a gagging noise, glares over her shoulder at her sister.
"Don't think I didn't notice." Is all she says.
"Are you okay?" Asks Nachte. His eyes are cracked open and he's half asleep,
but Renjin feels like he can see through her already.
She takes a deep breath.
"That's right," Whispers Anaya. "Let him teach you how good it can really be."
Renjin wishes she could tell Anaya to get the fuck out without looking like
she's lost her rocks.
Her fingers brush against his jawline. Jezreel once told her Nachte has a
diamond facial structure. Pointless information but Renjin tries to hold onto
every memory.
Her mouth presses a chaste kiss over his parted lips and his eyebrows inch
together. "What's all this about?"
Renjin doesn't know, herself.
He watches as she rises, and removes piece after piece of clothing. He's silent
when she faces him, eyes closed and hands fisted.
"Don't feel like you have to pay me back. You got yourself out of there."
"I'm not paying you back."
His eyebrows rise. "Oh?" Renjin is trying but she can't meet his eyes. "Come
here then."
She's expecting him to just fuck her, to prove to her that sex is only good for
the man. And only procreation for women.
He strips down into only his shorts when she finally gets into bed next to him.
He notices she's looking at his hands and smiles. "Here." He takes her hands in
his and lets her play with his fingers. "They're not too different, ah? Yours
are smaller, slimmer. That's all."
He lets her contemplate them a little more before touching his lips to her
temple, pressing her hands lightly against his chest. His mouth draws down to
her cheek before tapping against the tip of her nose.
"Can I kiss you?"
Renjin has to laugh at that. "Isn't it too late to ask that?"
"It's never too late to ask for something you want." She shivers because his
chest vibrates against her hands when he speaks.
"Yes."
His lips are soft and his hand ghosts against her jaw, wanting to settle there
but not entirely sure it should.
He draws away, and she softly takes his bottom lip between her teeth. When she
lets go, she looks unsure. Afraid what she did is over the line. He guides her
arms around his neck and kisses her more fully. Tongue slipping in, he lets out
a soft moan and she moans in response, pulls him closer.
His mouth drags over her jaw before leaving wet kisses over her neck and
throat.
She grips his shoulders, nips at the tip of his ear as his mouth and hands find
her breasts.
His hands slide up and down her back, over her belly.
Then his hands are encouraging her to lie back, tongue laving ticklish designs
over her midsection.
When he hooks her legs over his shoulders, she stops him. "W-wait!"
He tilts his head. "What's wrong?"
"It... It's messed up."
"Is it tender?" She shakes her head. "Then let's see how bad it really is."
He kisses it and Renjin is both embarrassed and ashamed of her body. "I can't
do this."
"Just try it, and if you really don't like it, I'll stop."
He's watching intently as he rubs his tongue over what's left of her clit. She
hisses and her calves constrict around him. "Does it hurt?"
"Too much."
"Right." He goes back to kissing her slick quajen, pressing his tongue inside.
She grips his knees. "Unm."
He kneads her breast with his free hand.
He's sure to give her clit a careful tap with the tip of his tongue. Her breath
hitches.
He eases her legs off of his shoulders. "Have you ever touched yourself?"
Her head shakes. He shrugs. "Makes sense, I guess." His index finger makes its
home in her sweet heat. When She tenses, he rubs his free hand over her belly.
"Hold on." He works a second finger in. She sits up, wraps around him when his
fingers quirk once, twice, three times.
She's riding his hand by the time a third finger is filling her. He can see her
trying to give herself over to his skilled hands.
He kisses her when he slides his fingers into the soft openings of skin but she
rips her mouth away and screams, arching so hard she topples backwards and off
his lap. He has to follow so he doesn't hurt her.
She's still trembling when she comes down from her high, muscles still rippling
around his fingers.
"Oh. Oh gods what did you do?"
"Never had your slots touched before?"
"Slots?" Her hair is sticking to her face their breath mingles before he's
kissing her ravenously.
"Slots," He repeats when he pulls away, "are for Males to slip into so Females
receive as much pleasure as we do. It's also to keep Females near us after
copulation."
At Renjin's perplexed expression, his hand guides hers down to his cock. She's
guided into smooth strokes.
When something the color of bone starts peaking out from underneath the head,
she makes a nervous noise.
"They are called hooks and won't hurt you as long as I'm careful," He says.
"You can touch them." Her fingers toy with them for a moment. They're flexible,
not all that firm, and curve backwards. "Does it hurt?"
"No." Then, he's pushing her hands away and easing himself inside.
She gasps, rakes her nails down his back as he fills her. He kisses up and down
her neck, withdrawing before easing in again.
He hooks her legs around his waist before rocking swiftly into her. She moans
and whimpers and he grunts and focuses on working her up. The headboard
clatters against the wall but he can't bring himself to care.
Her hands roam every inch of him, begging him to keep going. To keep rubbing
her dripping quim in all the right places.
At the edge he slides his hooks into her slots and she clings, screams his name
and writhes like a wild cat.
Finally, his hooks recede and he drops her to the soft mattress. Even
breathless, she seeks his mouth.
He ends up staying and bedding her for a week.
He knows he never should have done it in the first place, Jezreel would skin
him if he were still alive, and that he should be ashamed of himself.
But every time he starts to be disgusted with himself, she looks up at him and
bites her lip and he pins her down all over again.
Just something about Fall Season.
His adoptees at the house send him correspondence that he's needed but he knows
he can't keep Renjin. She and her sister might be blood.
But they aren't family.
He looks up from his meal. "Is there somewhere you wish to be escorted?"
Renjin shakes her head. "I will probably head further East."
"If you tell me you need me, I will come," He says.
As they part ways, he gently takes her by the arm. "What happened to Triska?"
Renjin could tell him the truth. But would he believe her?
"She's dead. They killed her when they came to take me."
Nachte's shoulders droop slightly before he rolls them back. "Thank you."
Renjin shakes her head. "I'm sorry."
She doesn't meet Nachte again.
When they choose her, she's utterly confused.
"Why?"
"Because you have the makings," Says Yomshee, the lead Skin Walker. "We also
promised him we'd care for you.... And Triska." Her Mate nods in agreement.
"But knowing what we know, she will not be welcomed should she return."
They teach Renjin their politics, encourage the vicious side they know is
there.
And at seventeen, she leads them into battle with the Pride long enough to
steal Chiikets' knives. She would have killed him if it weren't for the injury
he carries. Even though he hides it, she knows it's there.
And picking him off would be far from satisfying.
Shattering the buckle of the belt his knives in their sheath hang from and
sliding between his legs to retrieve it is simple enough. And then it's run or
die.
But Renjin can do that, dances out of Shiseken's grasp, slits Laniika's throat
by instinct alone when the woman grabs her hair.
Denii knows better than to hassle her, but Asheer is hot on her heels, grinning
and murderous.
Renjin drops to the dirt when the woman goes to tackle her.
She turns and almost runs smack into Kajiim.
Her eyes are haunted when they meet Renjin's. "You."
She pushes Kajiim. "Don't look at me like that."
"He said you were dead."
This gives Renjin pause. "And none of you came back to lay my body in a decent
resting place?"
Kajiim's mouth moves but nothing comes out.
"You said-"
"I'm sorry I was wrong," Says Kajiim. "I never thought.... Kajmir always said
he couldn't retrieve your body because animals took it."
"You didn't ask him why he decided not to bring it back with Shen?"
Kajiim holds out her hands. "Then what really happened?"
She seems genuinely intent on discovering what went on.
"Kajiim! Get back!"
Both girls get out of the way of the arrows coming in their direction.
Renjin slips into the tree line.
"Did she hurt you?" Asks Sasayo.
Kajiim shakes off his hands. "Get off me."
She leans against the table. "You can't do this by yourself."
Renjin snorts. "I can, too."
"But not easily."
At Renjin's glare, the woman says. "You can call me Takka. And you're going to
realize you need me one way or another."
"And just what can you do that Yomshee can't?"
"Come into power." Takka flips short, straight hair out of her eyes. "And keep
you there."
Roxoi, overthrows Yomshee by the end of the month, would have killed Renjin had
Takka not been around.
"I told you so," Says Takka.
Anaya hates Takka, calls her a snake waiting for prey.
"Takes one to know one," Says Renjin.
Anaya laughs and agrees.
***** The Wheat From The Chaff *****
Chapter Summary
     Kieve has a busy year. It has it's good moments. But that dark
     horizon is getting closer all the time.
Chapter Notes
     Oh my Gawd! Once I started this, I could not stop. It's utterly huge.
     You're welcome.
     I think, next Maque will be fully introduced.
     Forewarning, Kieve does a lot of internal monologue in this chapter.
     There's also some bondage-y hetero stuff. I think that's it for now.
When Kieve first enters the gates, he's surprised at the mix of Tarshish and
Fall Backs.
Inan stands, watching him. "You didn't meek out."
"No, Sir."
He gestures to the group, standing in rows of ten. Kieve thinks there's fifty
of them. "Good."
Kieve joins at the front. The orange haired Tarshish beside him scowls.
"Now," Says Inan before the Tarshish can open his mouth. "I know some of you
have always been free. Some of you, not. Some of you are from the streets and
some of you are from the highest in society - The elites."
Kieve catches a glimpse of Maque, three people to his left.
"I'm going to tell you, right here, right now, that none of that matters here.
No one gets preferential treatment." He smiles at each of them. "Because from
here on out, you are slaves to me."
There are multiple outcries, mainly from the Tarshish.
"Now now," Says Inan. "Anyone who wants to stay free may leave now." Many of
them turn to go - Even Kieve himself. "But if you leave those gates, you will
be banned for life. There will be no turning back."
Some grumble, asking why the hell they'd want to come back here.
Kieve is quick to return to his line. The orange haired Tarshish hasn't even
left.
Maque saunters back as well.
This is a test. And Kieve intends to pass it.
When the last person has left the gates, Inan turns back to them. There's still
thirty students watching him quietly.
"Only a few of you are going to make it to the very top."
Kieve knew that from the beginning.
"It will be my pleasure to separate the wheat from the chaff."
Somebody laughs. "You don't actually own us now, do you?"
Inan's smile turns vaguely sadistic. "Should have walked through those gates
while you had a chance."
 
They're sent to their own quarters, five people per housing unit.
Kieve is in with the orange haired Tarshish, two Full Bloods, and their Adviser
- Jekk.
"Why didn't you think about leaving?" Asks one of the Full Bloods.
The orange haired Tarshish, Enko, shrugs. "It isn't like I've anywhere to go."
They stare at him strangely and even Kieve is curious.
But Enko doesn't say anything else.
 
"Alright," Says Inan. They're watching the sun come up over the horizon, Kieve
is unable to shake the dregs of sleep. "First things first." He smiles at them.
"Don't throw up."
That doesn't make any sense, Thinks Kieve. They hadn't eaten since evening
meal.
"What the hell are you-" And then they're near the clouds at some dizzying
height.
A few students drop to their knees, dry heave.
Kieve feels lightheaded. "Where are we?"
"Above the island."
The students that have vomited disappear like vapor. Kieve wonders what
happened to them.
"They're in the infirmary."
"Are you kicking them out?" Asks Enko.
"No. They passed the preliminary." There's a collective sigh and dropping of
shoulders.
Kieve thinks Inan is really a big softy.
"They won't have any more training from me. Ever."
"So they'll get your Assistants?"
"No. Not even that."
These people will never learn to defend themselves. Not well, anyway.
They'll be minions to be chewed by the machine that is this island.
"Do you see that speck over there?" Asks Inan. Everyone pauses in their musings
to look. "That is mainland."
"If we're that close, why aren't they here?" Asks a dark-skinned Full Blood.
"Because we aren't," Says Enko. "This aerial view is deceptive."
"Observant," Says Inan. "But let's see how far we can take you." His arms
spread to their full span and Kieve drops to his knees, doing all he can not to
hurl as their surroundings change.
He feels peeved when he notices how stoic Maque is.
A glance up makes him aware of glittering stars and a blue ball with brown and
white over some parts. A distant ball of fire warms his skin.
The students are whispering in hushed voices.
"What is this?" Asks a Female Full Blood with fine, blonde hair.
"This is what the Humans call our Solar System, kiddies."
Kieve really can't fathom that this could be out there.
Inan drops his arms, lets his hand go from left to right. At his will, the
planets spin, the stars move their course.
"Where are we?" Asks Maque.
Kieve is surprised she doesn't know.
Inan, points to the blue planet, crooks his finger and drags it towards
himself. The planet draws closer, becomes larger and Kieve's breath catches in
his throat.
Inan stops the planet from spinning with a mere touch, points to a section of
what Kieve thinks is ocean. "Here is where we are."
"We aren't really outside the planet, are we?" Asks Enko.
Inan glances at him. "Patience."
"How do you know all of this?" Asks one of the Full Bloods Kieve is rooming
with. "How do we know the earth isn't flat?"
Inan's eyes roll.
"There is so much more beyond this puny island."
"That is the point of this exercise?" Asks Maque. "To make us want to explore
it?"
"Yes," Says Inan.
"You never answered my question," Said the Full Blood.
"I don't have to," Says Inan. "It's a stupid question."
"There are no stupid questions," Says Kieve.
"Only stupid people."
Everyone shuts up after that.
They are given some time to look at their universe, the planets spinning, stars
on route.
And then it melts away, gradually becoming walls. But there's still that
feeling of falling, tumbling toward the ground a thousand miles a minute. This
time, Maque drops to her knees and wretches like the rest of them.
The only one still standing is Inan.
"Does this disqualify us?" Enko asks between gasps.
"No," Says Inan. "The last girl pissed herself."
And while Kieve wants to be mad on behalf of the girl, he's focusing on not
falling face first into his stomach acid.
 
They spend the rest of the day in bed, lightheaded and sick until lunch is
served and the bells start ringing.
Enko swears when he stands, holding things for balance.
Kieve stands, too. Not sure he can handle lunch but knowing he should try.
The Full Bloods groan but don't move to get up.
Jekk is supposed to be babysitting them, but he's probably having lunch with
Naori and Bany.
"We'll bring you something back," Says Enko.
They give him funny looks but he ignores it.
"I guess you weren't a Yona, then," Asks Kieve.
"I spent time in a brothel til I discovered my abilities. I hunted them
ruthlessly after that."
Kieve is surprised there are Tarshish that still take the fight to the Full
Bloods. "What made you stop?"
"I realized I was doing to them what they did to me. And making life harder on
our people."
Kieve doesn't often get included by Tarshish. It feels kinda nice.
"You know I'm a Half Breed, right?"
"Are you offended that I'm calling you one of us?"
Kieve shakes his head, regrets it immediately. "I just didn't want you thinking
I'm hiding it."
 
Standing in line at the mess, he and Enko talk about what they should take to
their roommates until Kieve notices a pink haired Tarshish watching him.
Staring, actually.
When he lopes over to her, he feels like Sorajin when he asks, "What?" When she
grows pale, still says nothing, he asks, "Never seen a Half Breed before?"
"You don't recognize me." It isn't a question.
Piqued, Kieve shrugs. "Should I?"
"No," She says after a long moment. "I thought you were some one else."
"I'm Kieve."
"Ara."
She's pretty. A perfect, toned specimen of their kind.
He's pleased to know her not-tits aren't fake.
"Up here, big guy."
He instantly feels sheepish for letting his eyes wander. Her expression tells
him she's a little surprised he's actually staring at her low cut shirt.
"Not used to it, huh?" It slips out and he instantly feels like an imbecile.
"I can blow you to nothing with my little finger. Don't talk shit to me."
In this moment, he thinks he's met her before. But he can't, for the life of
him, figure out where. Her voice is familiar, on the tip of his tongue-
"Kieve, come on," Says Enko. Figuring out who she is will have to wait.
 
Ara is Inan's example. She demonstrates. And, if he deems them worthy, he
teaches them the mechanics.
"Alright," Says Inan. Ara stands on one side of him, Naori, one of his other
Assistants, stands on the other. "Let's play a little. Naori."
The crystal imbedded between his collarbones starts glowing. The magick is
artificial. He isn't able to do any of this by himself, Kieve notices.
Trees sprout up into a thick forest. It's an illusion, but it's a damn good
illusion.
Something hisses behind him and he turns to find a Luuma melting from the tree,
fangs extending.
A swipe of his hand sends enough power to cut the Luuma in two.
A yoksa is quick to snatch it up and take it to its nest.
Enko streaks past him, hounded by a pack of eschneider.
"What did you do?" Asks Kieve. He can't avoid them now, either.
"I sneezed!" Then he turns, Kieve thinks the Tarshish is going to trip him.
Instead he draws a line in a patch of dirt with his shoe and yells, "You shall
not pass!"
Kieve is pretty sure that's a Human reference. Nonetheless, he's amazed when
the eschneider collide with the invisible line between them and Enko.
Their hairless bodies pace back and forth along the barrier, growl to each
other.
"You have an attack, right?"
Kieve nods.
"Good. Take pot shots, then."
 
Living for six hours in a forest of illusions is simple enough.
When it's over, they're lined up and Inan pulls a scroll from his sleeve.
"Yatai. Ahjin. Maque...."
There were twenty five before this. Five are called forward and Inan is silent
for a long time. "I don't like lone wolves. We work as a group around here.
You're being relocated."
Kieve smirks at Maque as she saunters past. She punches him in the arm and his
smirk drops. "Ow, you bitch," He whispers.
She smiles at him, flipping long, blonde hair over her shoulder.
 
Enko hisses when Inan's staff taps his calf. "Widen your stance."
"It's a good stance."
"But not perfect. Don't argue with me."
Enko whistles a single note before sliding his legs a little further apart.
He's noticed many Tarshish whistle. For many different reasons.
"Better." The end of his staff presses against his cheek. "But don't look at
me. Look at your target."
"Yinka, ease off me, old man. I don't like to be caned."
To Kieve, the only thing old about Inan are his stern, brown-green eyes. He
looks early thirties to Kieve.
"You will not speak of any god unless you are praying," Says Inan.
"Oh," Says Enko."I'm praying alright."
"Good. Maybe they'll bless you with more skill and less mouth."
Kieve smiles to himself. Enko really does need some reeling in, sometimes.
"Kieve. Don't let me see that stance slack. You know I hate when you lose your
center."
 
Walking back to their room from morning meal, there's a crowd of people
whispering and asking questions.
"What's going on?" Asks Enko to a girl with thick, curly hair.
"There's been a murder."
Kieve's stomach twists. "Of who?"
"Are you little fuckers really going to just stand and gawk at your dead?"
Yells Inan. He shoves ruthlessly between Kieve and Enko, then the rest of the
crowd. "Who saw him first."
A Full Blood with glasses steps forward. "I did, Sir."
"And what were you doing?"
"I went out for a stroll. The room was starting to feel cramped."
Inan stares at him intently and eventually, the Fall Back begins to fidget.
"You're lying." Whispers erupt around the group. "Shut up!" He barks at them
and they shrink back, away from him. Then he turns back to the Full Blood.
"What were you doing?"
"I told you, Sir-"
"Don't lie to me!"
The man clacks his teeth shut, looks guilty for a long moment. "I was going to
hook up with a woman, Sir."
"Hook up? What woman?"
"Sir-"
"Out with it. Explain this 'hooking up' you were doing. And give me this
woman's name."
The man blushes. "Um... Ah..."
"Hooking up is sex, Sir," Says a Tarshish. "And that woman is me."
Kieve is just this side of shocked. Many of them are.
He hears both Tarshish and Full Bloods making derogatory comments. A glance at
Enko reveals his mild distaste.
Inan looks over the man and Kieve catches a glimpse of him. He looks like one
of the students that puked on the first out thinning.
He's a Full Blood.
Inan stands slowly. "Our assassin is Tarshish." Everyone glances at everyone
else with accusing or measuring glances.
"Anyone who was out last night better come forward before your cabin mates meek
you out."
"How could you possibly know the Race of the attacker?" Asks Kieve. Full Bloods
turn suspicious eyes on him.
"Tarshish kills are significantly different than Full Blood kills," Says Inan.
They take him away with dignity.
"Where is he going?" Asks a girl through her tears. She must have known him.
"Back to his home in the North. His family will want him to be buried in the
family tomb, I'm sure."
 
The Full Bloods are barely civil towards most Tarshish. Aren't sure if they
should treat Kieve the same way or not. It's tolerable, he supposes.
"That's enough," Says Inan when the tension is so much that Enko starts
carrying his knives in his sleeves and doesn't tell anyone but Kieve.
When asked, he had said, Because you're one of us.
Kieve is both pleased and terrified that Tarshish willingly claim him.
And because Enko has accepted him, others do too. They ask him about his past
that he shamefully glosses over, tries to avoid giving an answer to at all.
They seek him out and stand up for him when Full Bloods start getting pushy.
He was grafted into Sorajin's family - And gods, does he appreciate it.
But he belongs here.
He is never out of place amongst what they call "Flock Mates."
Inan flips the table nearest him with only a look. "Pay attention!"
Everyone goes silent. "Thank you. An intuitive soul has told me we're having
some difficulty with our Tribal Mentality."
"Don't want nothin ta do with those aakon." Aakon, Favorite.
Kieve has only heard that word once. It still insults him just as much as the
first time. The man that had taught him the meaning of it had used it as an
excuse to take Kieve's virginity.
The old legend was that Full Bloods were created by the gods first. Then the
Tarshish. And the gods always teetered with favoritism from one group to the
other, fickle and selfish.
Then, one day, they decided they didn't need the Full Bloods, that the Tarshish
were superior in many ways. If it hadn't been for the first Leader and his
Chosen, the Full Bloods would have been wiped out.
Full Bloods had despised Tarshish after that.
He stands, even though Enko grabs his arm, whispers, "Don't."
But Inan beats him to it, the table flips. "There aren't aakon. And there
aren't any haekon, either." Haekon, Forgotten. A frequent taunt from Tarshish
who are angry at their circumstances and need to feel relief by trying to
verbally put Full Bloods under their feet. Kieve has seen them try it many a
time.
He's also only seen a handful of Tarshish live to tell about it. "Everyone is
one Race, here."
"Even when a Tarshish murders a Full Blood? How can we let that slide?" Asks
another, standing.
"You've slain hundreds of us, thousands of each other! Don't bitch to us about
the unfair treatment!" A Tarshish stands.
"No more!" Roars Inan. "The murder is being investigated as we speak! Everyone
needs to work together or we'll never get justice! Is that what you want?" When
he gets no response, he says, "No? Then shut up and sit down and no more of
this crap! You brats are supposed to be the cream of our island's crop and here
you are acting four summers old."
They're quick to do as they're told.
"I should throw every last one of you pathetic naresuans out!"
Ara and Naori both keep submissive postures through his rant. Bany, Naori's
bonded, and Jekk, kneel on the floor, facing the other two. The other
Assistants do the same.
Finally, Inan shakes himself out. "Babysitters, keep these children in check."
"Yes," His Assistants say in unison.
"Are we clear?" He says to the room.
"Yes, Sir," Everyone replies.
 
And everything goes back to some semblance of normal.
Until the Full Blood's "hook up" is discovered dead at the end of the week.
"Oh god," Whispers Enko when the news reaches them.
The librarians claim to have heard nothing, said they never saw anyone else go
into the farthest section of the library, out of sight of the book keepers, who
were busy with students.
It's claimed a suicide, but everyone knows it's murder.
Because Tarshish rarely hang themselves. If ever.
It's a shameful way to go, not to mention a horrific way, Full Bloods once used
it to intimidate them.
Now they use it to cleanse the souls of traitors. Those that choose a romantic
relationship with Full Bloods or kill one of their own.
But Tarshish that choose that path, are never sorry they did. Those that are
raped, he's seen commit suicide this way.
Kieve feels the burn with the other Tarshish at the death of one their own -
one of Kieve's own.
They react differently than Full Bloods, crowding around the body as it's being
taken away so they can say goodbye.
Even if they never knew her.
Full Bloods only ever seemed to mourn family or Pack. Strangers meant nothing
more than competition.
When asked, no one comes forward. No one admits to finding her.
 
"Those damn haekon," Whispers Enko. "All about their tit for tat."
Kieve shakes his head. "I don't think it's them."
Enko gives him a look. "Don't."
"What do you want me to say? That I totally agree?" Kieve leans against the
brick wall behind him. He's starting to feel like maybe he should turn round
and speak to it. He'd probably have better results than in the conversation he
knows is coming. "You heard Inan. One Race. We're all in the same boat."
Enko's lips thin. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
Kieve holds his gaze. "I do."
The tension swells between them. Becomes almost suffocating. Kieve is waiting
for the inevitable rejection. What he's been bracing himself for in all the
time these Tarshish have been kind to him. While Enko searches his eyes, his
face, his frame, he tries to breathe through the familiar misery that's
materializing in the very lowest part of his belly and sliding upwards,
spreading.
God, he had actually, unknowingly convinced himself that he wouldn't have to
give up this sweet-horrible-beautiful game of make believe.
It leaves him angry at himself. Agitated towards Enko, who told him at every
turn that he was one of them.
"Once a Yona," He finally says, "always a Yona."
Kieve draws his brows together, parts his lips.
"They raised you - the Full Bloods - didn't they?"
The disgust in Enko's voice isn't directed at him, he knows. "No. I had a
family take me in."
"Ugh," Says Enko. "All the habits you'll have to unlearn."
He's perplexed at this. Enko glances at him, rolls his eyes. "You have no idea
what your natural environment is like. Or even what you're like in it."
Kieve is still tremendously confused. "This means you and our Flock Mates will
teach me?"
"Duh. We can't leave one of us out to dry with no knowledge of what he is."
Kieve shrugs. "Of course I know what I am."
"Have you ever been to the cliffs where you were born?"
"We don't know I was born there."
"We don't have young outside the cliffs. It just doesn't happen. Even women who
live on the other side of the island, go there to give birth."
Enko watches peevishly as Kieve sticks his hands in his pockets."What makes you
so sure my mother was Tarshish?"
"Because nearly every Full Blood Female lives through giving birth to Half
Breeds. It's Humans and Tarshish that never seem to."
 
Another Full Blood is murdered and Inan sends everyone home for a week. He
needs time to regroup, Kieve thinks.
Enko takes him by the arm. "Come home with me."
Kieve blinks. "You could take me to dinner first."
Enko rolls his eyes, lets go of Kieve and makes his way to the Southeast.
Other Tarshish join and separate as they go, stopping at an inn once or twice,
it takes three days to get there.
At the gates, Enko grabs Kieve's arm. "Take off your gloves."
"What?"
Enko pulls his own off and tucks them in his back pocket. A glance around at
the other Tarshish that await the opening of the gates, reveals that none of
the males are wearing gloves.
Some of the females are wrapping their ankles but most of them are already
wrapped.
When the gates open, there's a crowd waiting for them. They cheer and sing and
many, many of them whistle.
There's a crush of bodies and Enko and Kieve are pushed forward, Enko whistles
the same tune of the people surrounding them.
A woman with dark hair and light purple eyes throws her arms around his neck,
tangles a hand in thick orange hair.
Kieve is overwhelmed at the sheer amount of people encircling them.
There's an awful lot of talking and whistling going on and he's disoriented.
His only anchor is busy with his woman.
Finally, Enko grabs his wrist. "Come on." He takes his woman's hand and they
make their way down into the tunnels that twist and wind and if Kieve was lost
before, he's drowning now.
They pass an underground house and a woman that Kieve thinks is Enko's mother
comes out and wraps her arms around him, pulls him against her breast, his
other brothers come out and hug him as well.
Kieve realizes how alone he feels.
The women are without Mokk'et and he feels nude without his gloves.
Just when it's all too much, Enko takes him by the arm again and leads him
through a tunnel that opens up to a cave. The waning light is enjoyable,
especially to see the sun setting over the vast ocean.
Someone brings a bottle of something that smells like alcohol and Enko offers
it to Kieve.
"Before you drink it, you have to do this," Enko says. He flicks the bottle
twice, at the bottom with his middle finger.
"Why?" Asks Kieve.
Enko shrugs. "Just something we do. Only twice. And only with your middle
finger. If you do it three times, you're asking for a refill. With the index or
ring finger, and it's asking if they have anything better."
"And you can't ask that?"
Enko laughs. "Trust me, you won't need anything better for some time. This
stuff makes Sahkmeh taste like pisswater."
"What's it called?"
"Pon."
"Huh."
His woman flicks hers twice, says something to him in their language and swigs
from the bottle. Passing it to Enko, he does the same.
Kieve follows. The burn is familiar but much, much stronger than he's used to.
At his expression, Enko laughs. "Didn't drink very much, did they?"
Kieve shakes his head. Renjin had been strict on sobriety. (Kieve secretly
thinks that if she'd allowed them to drink, she'd be perpetually drunk.)
Drinking was done in celebration of weddings and kills of huge, two headed
animals that tended to roam the island.
Sanchu loved to drink but not getting drunk. One could imagine the sweet eyes
he'd turn on Renjin when he really needed a drink.
Kieve lets out a quick exhale through his nose - maybe it's a laugh, he isn't
sure - when he thinks about how hard Renjin had to fight not to give in to her
husband's noiseles pestering.
Enko grabs him by the arm again. "C'mon."
"Where are we going?"
They go back into the catacombs and tunnels and turn right through the maze
that everyone but Kieve knows like the back of their hands.
"I'm never going to be able to find my way out of this damn place."
"Don't worry about it."
 
Kieve grips the doorway of the house they're shoving him into. "H-hey."
"We can't let you go to our parties looking like you do," Says Enko.
"And just what's wrong with the way I look, Enko?"
"You look like them." And by them, he means the Full Bloods.
"So what-"
"Not now. Not for this. Tonight," Says Enko, eyes shining with something Kieve
can't place, "you are Tarshish."
He's bathed, (which he does by himself, thank you.) dressed in something like a
light blue, sleeveless tunic, connected to a set of trousers, that shows the
center of his chest, the belt is bound with two long, red threads. His biceps
are wrapped with soft, blue fabric with a subtle red border.
Enko's color scheme is darker, black with blue accents.
His wife is dressed in swirling white and purple patterns that match the color
of her eyes. It sweeps to her ankles.
The party is already in full swing when they arrive. Kieve is introduced to all
of Enko's contacts.
Women look over him slowly, the men size him up. It takes awhile for him to
understand what's happening. They can detect he isn't purely theirs.
But Enko doesn't even acknowledge the looks, fills Kieve's glass, his wife's,
and then his own.
Everyone is, at least, pleased with their new addition.
With smiles and laughter and a gentle touch, Enko and his wife, Mo'ya, teach
him how to dance the way they do.
And he had never seen Enko smile like this until they arrived.
"Enjoying yourself?" The person who's linked arm in arm with him - on the left
side, Mo'ya is on the right - shouts above the din Kieve has relinquished
himself to. It's loud and colorful and he loves it. Has never loved this much
noise and color before now.
"Yeah," He says, turning to look at the woman.
And coming face to face with Ara.
"What's wrong?" She asks. "Never seen a pure blood before?"
He laughs at the reference. "Sorry. I'm a little tipsy right now."
"Aren't we all?" She asks.
"Probably," He shouts back, he can't hear himself think.
He finds he's okay with it.
People are separating from the circles and Ara is drawing him away, to one of
the banquet tables.
The food is amazing, makes him wonder if he would feel the same way about all
of this if he were to have been raised here.
He lets Ara sit before scooting her chair in and sitting across from her.
"You look different."
I smell different, too, He thinks, but doesn't say.
She reaches across the table, takes his hand in hers. "You look so happy with
us."
He was. He is so happy. But it's too soon to know if this is his place or not.
It's too easy to just say it is and fake it. But he wants to mean it. To know
if this is really where he should be.
Maybe he just feels this way because he's drunk. He knows intimately well that
can change how a person sees everything.
Looking into Ara's eyes gives him chills.
He knows that look. A glance at their joined hands and Kieve pulls back as
though burned, is unable to fathom that he has missed everything. That he was
so lost in the noise and the joy that he's utterly missed Ara's seduction of
him.
And yet he is relieved that his training from all those years ago is fading.
Like a dream. Like no one but Sorajin has ever touched his skin.
And now Ara.
No, she hasn't even gotten to first check point. But she has been friendly
enough - waited until he was drunk and comfortable enough, to do what she knows
he feels is wrong.
Some part of him feels skewed. No one else here worries about bare hands on
bare hands. Not that he can tell.
Although the women hide their ankles and men wear all sorts of things over
their biceps.
Ara's hand plays with his rings. "Where'd you get these?" She asks softly.
"That's not polite," He says. "Asking about mine when I haven't even seen
yours."
Ara smiles devilishly at him. "You really want to?"
He shrugs. "Yeah."
She stands. "I can't show you here."
He stands, too. He's thankful that he's sober enough to over think everything.
It means he isn't going to be unwillfully taken advantage of.
The only upside to his racing, stirring thoughts.
She takes him through a few tunnels and back to a quaint little place. It
doesn't look as though anyone has been there for years but it's kept in shape.
"This is yours?"
"Yeah," She says. "When Inan lets me come home."
"Why did he let you this time," He asks. There are portraits of Ara and what he
assumes is her family, considering just under half of them have pink hair.
She comes to stand beside him, very lightly taking his hand once more. "To
celebrate the home coming of our lost."
Kieve wonders if they'd still feel like this if his father had been the
Tarshish.
Probably not.
He tries not to think too hard about it.
Ara's fingers entertwine with his and he wonders if this is going to be a one
time thing or....?
"I barely know you." There are other Assistants that she could pursue a
romantic relationship with.
Why is she looking at him?
"Do you want to see my enhancer?"
Oh yeah. That's why he was standing in the middle of her sitting room. He
follows her into her bedroom. A small space with a hammock hung beside the far
wall.
She unfastens her belt with skilled ease and her dress slides open. He freezes,
torn between, No. You can't do this. It's wrong, and, Good gods is she
beautiful.
He should have turned his back. Should have- She lights a lantern and he just
wants to touch her.
That's it.
That's all.
The gleam of her eyes, the way the flame of the lantern bathes her skin in a
pleasant glow.
He's too drunk for this. And the only thing that keeps them apart is how aware
he is that even sober, those threads on his belt are knotted in a way he can't
untie without breaking them.
Thank Yinkya.
She parts her dress wider, watching him intently. Then she unties the string
attached to the fabric of her undergarments and the lower piece falls away.
He hates how he knows she knows he wants her.
Thankful that she ignores it as she approaches him, graceful and silent as a
big cat.
He swallows once, twice as she stands silently in front of him.
Can feel his body string tight and every one of his senses home in on her when
she takes his hand and guides it to the apex of her thighs. She jumps when his
fingers brush against her clit. And maybe he jumps a little, too. It takes him
a moment to realize that her enhancer is a piercing on the little pink pearl.
"Didn't that hurt?"
"Like a bitch. But Bakubakk, is it sensitive."
"In a good way?"
She nods. "Also, they can't take my enhancer if they can't find it."
He can feel her drawing his fingers further between her legs. "Smart."
She smiles and she's slick as hell when one of his fingers slip inside. Her
eyes close, head tilting back.
Suddenly, he wishes he'd asked to keep his barbell. Ironically, Renjin had
encouraged him to throw it. A sign he'd never be under her hands again.
Although it isn't like Ara will know the difference. Touching the pierced
button makes her hiss and grip his wrist.
She reaches around and he feels a tug before his belt slacks and his tunic
comes open - Further open, anyways.
In this moment, he isn't sure if he should try to remember his training or push
it all away and try to play shy virgin.
Too late, He thinks as she shoves him against a wall, mouth fierce.
 
Oh Yinkya, He thinks. What did I do to myself? He rolls over and hates himself
just a little.
Ara.
He's also got a hang over and the bright light of the lantern isn't helping
anything.
He drags himself out of the hammock and pulls on his clothes. He's pretty sure
this was a one time thing. She wouldn't have time for him once she went back to
working for Inan.
She groans and rolls over. "No round three?"
It occurs him that he's just used someone for sex. Nevermind that the intention
was mutual. For someone like him, it's just wrong.
But it's consensual, He reminds himself. There's the difference. Even if it's
still wrong, it's not as wrong as-
Ara drags herself to her feet. "I guess not," She says. "Bath is this way."
Round three does actually happen, he's sorry to admit. There's also a round
four.
Okay, so he should be sorry but he isn't.
Enko welcomes him and doesn't ask him what he's been doing. They both know Enko
knows anyways.
Other Tarshish, and even some he's met at Inan's, come to poke and prod and
greet him so they can ask all about him.
He tries to dodge any question he knows he can't answer without causing a stir.
Yes, his mother was Tarshish. No, she didn't live through his birth. Yes, he
was taken in by Full Bloods. No, nobody hurt him there.
He's exhausted by the end. Enko offers his bed for him to sleep in.
The week passes by with work, mourning their dead, and Ara always bringing him
back to her bed, sometimes not even for sex.
The first time she asks him to just lie down with her, he does. She snuggles
underneath his arm and lies her head on his chest. He's uncomfortable and
surprised then. Because he's attracted to her, and she answers his questions
about her.
But something feels off.
It's on the tip of his tongue but he can't place it.
Finally, they have to return to Inan's compound.
Mo'ya bids them a tearful, loving goodbye before they go and Enko promises to
return as quickly as possible.
 
Inan watches them with piercing eyes as they enter. Many cower under his gaze.
Ara smiles sweetly at him though. Naori, Bany, and Jekk, among many other
Assistants, are released from his compound. Having patiently awaited their
time.
Which means Ara doesn't get sent out until they return. He's not all that
excited when he's on the list of Ara's selected protegès.
"You think she's hot, right?" Asks Enko.
"Yes," Drawls Kieve. "But she is just all over me. No sense of space."
"Trust me," Says Enko. "It's a good thing. The moment she wants space, you
won't want to give it to her. Enjoy it while it lasts."
 
Oh, gods. He's about ready to do anything to make it stop. There's ribbon
that's wound from his shoulders to his wrists, where he's tied to some pipes
overhead. His legs are chained open and he really regrets letting Ara know
about Sorajin. He never gave her the man's name, but he had mentioned the
relationship.
"Kieve?" She asks when she steps in to the spacious prayer closet. It's one of
the old ones that people don't use anymore. "Inan sent me to tell you
meditation time is over."
Kieve's been meditating, alright. He moans through the gag when her hand drags
over the sensitive flesh of his chest. Shivers as she strokes his aching
length.
She's slow to turn off the machine she's rigged to fuck him and he groans,
drops his chin against his chest. She slides up behind him and leaves sloppy
kisses against his neck, under his ear while she strokes his erection with
slow, frustrating strokes.
What he'll never mention is the flashbacks that he's been fighting off a lot
more recently.
She doesn't know what he was before Sorajin and these games she's been playing
with him give the memories teeth. Sometimes, it is hard to convince himself
that he's safe. That no one is going to do something to him he doesn't want.
"Don't come." She whispers against his ear. That'll be next to impossible,
considering Sorajin had never asked him to hold back and - Fuck. He groans as
she releases the cock ring, instantly backs off of him, bares him to the cold
air.
"Be a good boy," She purrs. And he hates to say it, but he's not worried about
keeping his orgasm at bay. Not at all. Now it's a struggle to stay aroused so
he doesn't have to explain why he's just not anymore.
There's whispers of clothing before she presses against him and he desperately
presses back, trying to reassure himself as he braces, grips the ribbon around
his arms. Her fingers play with his nipples as she slowly slides the fake dick
into him, pressing hips flush against him. A choked sound escapes him and she
groans low and throaty against his shoulder. She eases out, wraps a hand
lightly around his slick cock, and pushes back in, pushing his hips into her
hand. Arousal flushes hot again. That body pushing and pulling him into those
waiting hands. The hot breath against his shoulder. The surging pleasure as the
pace gets rough, almost punishing.
He cries out in the gag and the hand that's been playing with his nipples,
touches him everywhere and he wants it to.
The breath against his shoulder is coming out in soft pants. He finds himself
pushing back onto the body buried inside him. He's so close his thighs are
trembling.
Please, He gasps against the gag. The pipes creak and a leg presses against his
spreading it further, pushing that cock deeper. He can feel himself arching,
knows he's crying out louder than he should.
Please, He begs. Please let me cum. The gag makes him sound like a pitiful
animal. Oh gods, He sobs. Oh, Sora- Kieve's shocked at himself when he realizes
he isn't here, with Ara who's fucking him senseless in a prayer room. He's
still two thousand miles away, under his once-master's hands.
He focuses on his orgasm after that. Trying not to let on that he was just
seriously committing sin number four in the lover's handbook.
She never says anything about it if she heard him through the gag.
 
"I noticed you're quite devout to prayer," Says Inan. There's an implication in
his voice that he thinks Kieve isn't actually praying. "Something specific
you're petitioning for?"
"My family," He blurts. At Inan's look, he says, "They can't stay out of
trouble."
"Indeed?" Kieve nods. "You're dismissed then."
Kieve nods turns to go but pauses. "Sir?"
"Hmm?"
"Are any of Ara's other students praying as much as I?"
There's a long pause and Kieve starts thinking about all the ways he can ask
for a transfer without making Ara look bad.
"Not that I can think of."
Relief floods his frame. "Thank you, Master Inan."
"Why did you want to know?"
"I wondered if anyone else needed prayer."
 
Ara doesn't have as much time to work on their training when the other
Assistants return. Many of them, including Ara, are sent out to do things for
Inan, who then takes over the students left behind.
They are, technically, still worthy of being his students.
He doesn't see Enko very often until then.
His expression is worried, lips thinned when they do meet.
He does it for days but doesn't say a word.
Finally, Kieve is fed up with it. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
He leans his head close to Kieve's. "You're unhappy."
"No, I'm not. I'm fine," He whispers. It sounds like a hiss.
"Who is making you 'fine'?"
"No one. I choose to be fine."
Enko withdraws when Kieve spits the word 'choose.'
"You obviously haven't chose anything."
He snatches Enko by the arm. "I don't like it when you push me like this."
"You didn't used to mind it. Now you're skulking around like a shame-filled
harlot."
Enko slides under the hand that shoots towards him, Kieve has surprised himself
again. Enko is beside him now. "Whatever you're hiding has made you unhappy."
Enko walks away after that.
He doesn't know how he's going to discourage a Tarshish uprising if he can't
even get a grip on his private life.
Sorajin sends him news that there's been an army attacking Rozolyn's Territory.
Full Bloods trying to take it over.
And while Sorajin nor Kieve care for Renjin's younger sister, he's concerned
for her children.
 
When Ara selects Kieve for a specific mission, Enko volunteers as well. Inan
allows it.
"What did I say to you?" Kieve says to Enko.
Enko shrugs. "What did I say to you?" At Kieve's glare, he says, "You're one of
us."
"Alright," Says Ara. "This is a diplomatic mission. Your goal is to smooth
relations between the Tarshish settled near Kuden's Clan."
"I thought relations were already good over there," Says Kieve.
"They're decent. But strained."
 
Princess Yanrik is beautiful. Large blue eyes, blonde hair, and soft pink lips,
she's a perfect mix of Queen Kuden and her late husband, General Xerxes.
Renjin had mentioned him grudgingly a time or two. Called him a 'Good
Samaritan,' whatever that meant. Funny enough, Sorajin knew what it meant,
almost instantly. He must have been outstanding for Renjin to speak well of
him.
She's a rare, attractive half-Xii, and there is a difference between the sub-
races of Full Blood. Even though there are mainly three sub-races. There are a
few mutations Kieve has seen. But it's hella rare.
The main ones are Xii, Rogue, and Fall Back.
Yanrik smiles at them. But it's Kuden who speaks. "Good afternoon, gentlemen."
"Madam," Says Kieve. "What has happened?"
Kuden's lips twist. "One of my men has caused an accident with your people.
It's killed three of them and they're unwilling to take any good will from us."
Kieve and Enko glance at each other. "Then we'll see what we can do."
The trip to the Tribe takes an hour. At some distance, Kieve can already tell
the lead woman is a battle ax.
"The Queen tells us you two aren't getting along," Says Enko.
The woman scowls. "We want her out of her position. If she can't control her
men, she ought'nt have any."
"Not all of us can leash our men," Says Kieve. "And she appears to want to make
it right. What's stopping you?"
The woman thins her lips. "We don't take provisions from haekon."
Kieve sighs. "Then I would move if I were you."
Enko takes him by the arm. "Kieve."
"They've been good to our people. It's awful that anybody has died but they
want to make it some semblance of right. And if she doesn't like Kuden then she
can go somewhere else."
Both the woman and Enko stare at him.
"I can't believe they always send us traitors," Mutters the woman. "Go home.
You two are useless. We'll sort it out ourselves."
 
"Whose side are you on, Kieve?"
"Nobody's, okay? I don't take sides, I do what's right."
"And what's right is that you put our people first."
"No, it isn't."
They give Kuden the news and she tightens security.
Tarshish attack that night, breaking down doors with full intent, leaving blood
spattered all over the halls. Every Tarshish from the offending Tribe is
killed. But Kuden is dead.
They find Yanrik in their closet, shaking and crying softly.
Kuden's Kingdom has fallen over night.
***** Dirty Hands *****
Chapter Summary
     Maque, believes that getting your hands dirty is something that can't
     be avoided.
     But if Raiton and Tonro are spared the darkness, she will gladly soak
     it in.
Chapter Notes
     Non-consensual pretty much all throughout.
     There's also some sadism because Maque is a lot meaner and invested
     in people than I originally planned for.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
When Maque was a child, she used to wonder what her family was like. The
Headmaster assured her that she wasn't missing much. That he was her father,
his assistant, her mother.
And all of the other Fall Backs, her siblings.
Even the ones that teased her and called her ugly.
Their Headmaster always went out of his way to assure them they were light of
his life.
Maque felt important. But no more important than Phaniil or Garo.
 
But Raiton and Tonro are hers. And she is theirs.
"Can you charm something for me?" Asks Tonro.
"What?"
He gestures to the stud in his ear. "I would like to be able to amplify
abilities."
"That's a humble request," Says Maque.
"Yes, but it's useful."
Maque has never charmed a mineral before. Rarely practises on metal. Glass is
her forte for reasons she often guesses at.
Maybe one of her parents? Or their parents?
Is she a mutation or is it a family trait?
Her fingers touch the stone in his ear. There's a snap-crackle-pop and he
grimaces at how close that charm has come to his head.
"There," She says. "I don't know how well it'll work."
 
"Sit," The Headmaster says to Maque. She thinks he's angry that she's charmed
Tonro's jewelry. She knows that they ought not to do such a thing.
"There's a quandary to be dealt with."
"Something with a facile solution, I hope," She says slowly.
The Headmaster folds his arms. "The Tarshish are a threat. I expect you to do
what you can to quench them."
"Why me?"
He smiles. "You are my most prodigious student."
Maque doubts that.
"And you comprehend the pressing need that is our survival."
"What needs to be done?"
 
Inan relocated her and she didn't realize how easy he had just made everything.
But now, she knows that she's to be trained behind the scenes. Inan has a bad
feeling and needs special ops for every Race.
 
When the murders happen, Maque is speechless.
It's starting.
Much sooner than she expected. The new Tarshish ops that Inan has chosen are
now in danger. And are a danger to Maque.
Because she's friends with the two girls.
And this Tarshish, whomever he is, can't stand Tarshish on good terms with
Full-Bloods.
"Go away," She snaps the day after the girl is found hanging. "You people are
reeking bad aura!"
The girls, naturally sweet, so naive Maque can breathe and inhale the
innocence, recoil from her as though she's physically attacked them.
"Lay off," Says Kevierkets. "Can't you be nice to anyone that isn't sticking
their dick in you?"
"Can't you keep anyone from sticking their dick in you?"
Kevierkets scowls, runs the tip of his middle finger along his cheekbone and
the Tarshish that have been dogging Maque's steps gasp.
They know the gesture, what it means. Maque doesn't know why they're surprised
that people actually use it.
"Oh, Kieve," Says one girl with teal hair. "Don't be ugly."
Kevierkets rolls his eyes. "Don't let her be ugly to you."
And Maque knows this isn't just old rivalry. These native Tarshish have found
their way into Kevierkets' head. He's not standing up for the girls to pick a
fight with Maque like he used to.
He's standing up for them because they're Tarshish.
She debates on if she should mention it, ask him how Sorajin feels about his
new Tribal Mentality. But it's too soon. He is utterly unaware they've changed
him.
He'll just deny it.
"Did we do something wrong, Maa?" Asks the other Tarshish after Kevierkets has
gone on his way.
She steps close to them, pulls them closer. "I am afraid for your lives. Stay
away from Full Bloods and don't be friendly to me." They take her advice to
heart. Bully her with harsh words and repentant eyes.
 
When they get sent home for a week, they stop at a bar, Maque settling herself
into Tonro's lap, drinks with them before falling into bed with them. She
doesn't want to think about what's coming.
When they're sleeping, she rises out of the Human-styled bed, sits down in the
middle of the washroom floor and contacts Him.
"Good night?" He asks.
"Neutral."
He blinks slowly. "I am able to see that you have noticed it's begun."
"Is there anything we can do to hold it off?"
There's silence for a long moment. "Kuden has made a mistake. As soon as the
week is over and you've checked in, go to greet her. Kill every Tarshish in the
Tribe that neighbors her."
"Should she not face her own mishaps?"
"If she falls, it's demoralizing to the other Kingdoms. A sign that Tarshish
are as formidable as they appear not to be."
"Anything else?"
"Learn everything you can about the man that's leading his army of exiles. He
will, at some point, become either our antagonist or our ally."
"Yes, Sir."
She lies out on the cold tile floor for awhile.
A sharp cry from Tonro wakes her from her trance-like state.
Upon entering, she is both jealous and aroused to find them pursuing round four
without her. She watches them for a moment, Tonro arched against Raiton while
in his lap, back to Raiton's chest.
"Sluts," Says Maque.
"If it isn't our queen."
She sniffs, crawls onto the bed and Tonro is shoved down atop her. Thankfully,
they don't have anywhere they need to be. Raiton's siblings are still sleeping
soundly in the other room. Tonro let's out a keening sound as he's guided into
Maque.
"Ooh, fuck," He says, knocking his forehead against her shoulder. She tangles
her right hand in his hair, her left in Raiton's, pulling him down for a kiss.
She may not like her job, but she'll do it to keep her family alive.
She'll do it for these two. For Raiton's siblings. And for the two Tarshish
that exude innocence.
 
Kevierkets' mood darkens some time after the break. And Maque knows it's Ara.
She's got a stranglehold on Kieve.
But, in his own way, so does Enko.
"Disgusting, isn't it?" Asks Marco. "How shameless they are in the manipulation
of each other."
"It's easy," Says Maque. "Especially since he isn't one of them."
Marco gives her a strange look. "Ah?"
"He's only a half."
Marco crinkles his nose. "You two go back, right? You should say something to
him."
"Too early."
"Better early than late," Says Marco. "He'll be angered that you allowed him
into folly."
She decides she'll deal with him when she gets back from her mission.
No sooner has she slipped into the palace, do the Tarshish attack. She
slaughters as many as she can while trying to get to Kuden before they do.
Much to Maque's frustration, there's six of them advancing on Kuden, Yanrik is
behind her.
"Mom?"
Kuden is calm, no fear. "I love you, Yanrik. And I'm so, so proud of you."
Two lunge and she kills one, is run through by the other before she kills him,
too. Yanrik darts off into the halls and Kuden keeps them from going after her.
Her strikes are precise even while wounded and Maque is amazed by her. Out of
the shadows slides a Tarshish that isn't dressed like the natives.
Maque instantly knows there's a bigger game being played here.
She, herself shoots out of the dark as he draws a line on the carpet with his
foot.
She hits it with such force that she accidentally shatters herself.
Everywhere she attempts to attack him, there's a boundary. She's thankful when
she's pushed him near a mirror.
She sinks her teeth into his shoulder as soon as she's out of the mirror and he
whistles, lets out a single, shrill note, before sliding a knife from his
sleeve and thrusting it into her. She cries out as his knife finds flesh. Kuden
is watching with utter confusion.
Maque grips the black mask over the face of the Tarshish as he hauls her from
the mirror, stabs her again, and throws her to the floor. She's gasping and
tries to get up but can't. The Tarshish has her under a charm.
"It's you," Says Kuden. "But you were supposed to-" The sound of Kuden's body
hitting the floor and the wet sounds that fill the seconds that tick by, stay
in Maque's dreams long after this night. Kuden never screams once, only makes
choked, pained sounds.
Maque lies in silence, waiting for the man to finish her, too, as he stands
over her. The flat blade slides along her cheek, smears the late Queen's blood
over her face.
She refuses to be afraid of him. But she fights hard when he starts cutting her
out of her clothes. She wonders if this would have been particularly sexy in a
different context.
He leaves her in her thigh-high heels, giving away what Maque has always sort
of guessed at: Tarshish are capable of kink.
Her corset is untied, unfastened at the front and his hands slide over the
fishnet on her arms. Something is tied around her head as a blindfold.
What gives him away as a pure blood Tarshish is that he has utterly no interest
in what's under her Mokk'et.
 
She is careful when she walks, favoring her sore lower body as much as she can.
She can't help the defeated slump of her shoulders.
She has to stop every few hours to change the bandage on her side where he
stabbed her.
It's funny that she's more angry at her defeat than the way he used his knives
on her.
She's had the intimacy of sex trained out of her by the Headmaster. He always
said something like this might happen and it would be for the best if she could
learn to deal with it.
Kieve and Enko return with Princess Yanrik and Maque volunteers for guard
detail. Strangely, so does Enko.
He says it's to make up for their failure to help her mother.
What he's really going to do, Maque knows, is keel over and pretend to be
mortally wounded as soon as one of his brethren comes to kill her. Maque is
blonde, but she's no moron.
 
It's time to talk to Kieve and she waits til Ara has left him to his
meditation, although why she feels the need to escort him, then take so long to
leave, Maque can only guess.
There's gasping and groaning, and the quiet hum of... Something. But Maque
knows not what it could be.
When she enters, she resists the urge to leave again.
She should have known that he wasn't praying.
But this might be a turning point for him.
He's gagged and blindfolded, tied down on his back with a machine partaking in
his body.
Her fingers brush the tears dripping from the wet blindfold. He turns, presses
into her hand and she knows she has to be careful lest he realize she isn't
Ara.
She kisses him over the gag, runs her fingers over the fine, light purple hair
on his chest. And notices a wound, mostly healed, on his shoulder. He presses
into her hand.
She pulls away and his breath hitches. He starts writhing and pulling hard
against his restraints. Maque ignores him in favour of trying to understand how
the machine works. She inches the knob one way, then the other, gradually
figuring out how to turn it down.
She runs her fingers over the dusting of hair on his stomach as she comes back
to standing over him. His muscles ripple in her wake.
His arousal is dripping but Maque isn't quite ready to pay attention to it.
Her little finger hooks into the gag, pulls it from his mouth.
"Ara." Her hand cups the side of his face lightly in response. "Ara, it's too
much. I tried but I can't do this."
Maque runs a hand through his hair, twirls one of the longer strands around her
finger.
He lets out a hitching breath. "I-I'm sorry. I know you're disappointed with
me."
Maque sighs through her nose, feeling sorry for him.
What she's about to do to him.
"I'm sorry," He says again. "This just reminds me too much of-" Maque is sure
to be light when her fingertips cover his mouth. She hopes to imply she
understands.
In reality, she doesn't want him unknowingly spilling his guts.
She kisses his jawline and he seeks her mouth, kisses her like she's his air.
She lightly drags her nails up and down his fluttering abdominals.
"Ara?"
She moves to turn off the machine, is careful when she removes it from him. Her
fingers trail up his legs, leaving goose flesh. His cock twitches when her hand
draws near to it.
"Ara, please." His voice crackles as he speaks. He sounds like she's been
playing with him for some time. She releases the ring holding his rigid flesh
captive and draws her fingertips up the underside of his throbbing erection.
His back arches as she takes him into her mouth, moans through gritted teeth.
He makes broken, begging noises when she drags her tongue over the glans on the
underside.
Sobs when she takes him completely inside, nose brushing against his pubic hair
allowed to grow wild.
A good, strong suck or two has him bucking into her mouth, screaming Ara's name
as he spills down her throat. She swallows slowly as she runs her hands over
his stomach and chest and thighs.
When she pulls off him, she licks the string of cum that's left.
"Thank you," He breathes. "For coming back. It means a lot to me that you're
considering my boundaries."
She rubs her cheek against his thigh, debates on if she's really okay with
this.
But it's for Kieve's own good, isn't?
She slides away and he picks up his head, looks for her even though he's
blinded.
He knows when she's standing over him. His lips parted, the corners tilting
downwards. "What's wrong?"
He gasps as his head snaps to the side with the force of the blow. He's
stunned, mouth parted, lower lip split. And some part of her gets off on both
his pain and pleasure.
He turns to her, opens his mouth wider to speak but Maque doesn't give him the
opportunity. The back of her hand collides with his face again.
"A-Ara?"
She settles his cock ring over his navel, slides the gag over his mouth, he
resists and she gives him small, light slaps to his face until he takes it in.
The machine is put in the same spot Ara left it in. She pities Kevierkets. He's
trembling as she kisses his forehead. He's sensitive, fucking him with the
machine will be utter agony until his body is ready for another orgasm.
She slaps him on the thigh and he's fervently shaking his head. She twists her
fingers in his hair, tilts his head back, and laves her tongue over his throat.
His breath hitches.
His shaking gets worse when her teeth close lightly over it. She pulls away,
turns the machine to a decent pace and starts looking through his clothes for
those knives. The ones he would have used on her if he was the one that killed
Kuden.
He's calling Ara's name through the gag with hitching breaths. She's gone and
made him cry.
Poor thing.
When she comes back and slaps his exposed hind quarters, he starts to sniffle.
There's tears running down his face again.
She knows she's sick when she notices how slick with desire she is while he
cries, sobs.
How much pleasure she's getting out of his fear and pain and confusion.
She shuts the door and it's a force of will to ignore his screams not to be
left the way he is.
His relationship with Ara is strained for at least two weeks after the
incident.
How it should be if he really believes the woman he's having those kinds of
relations with would do something like that to him.
Enko avoids Maque, doesn't want anything to do with her. She wonders if he
knows what she did to Kevierkets.
"Are you okay?" Raiton asks out of the blue.
She looks at him for a moment. Is she? Should she spill her guts? No. She'd
have to tell every detail to Raiton. And he always loves new sex partners, but
he will be furious about the way the Tarshish used her. Outraged that Maque
left Kieve begging and broken on a table.
"I'm fine," She says. "But I need you and Tonro to be really careful."
Raiton nods. "We will."
She feels guilty when she looks up a her handiwork. An unsuspecting Tarshish
dangles from the rafters.
She knows without a doubt they were working for the rebels. But they never
wanted to go so far that they wound up at the end of a rope.
She needs to stir them up, try to get the real Hunters on the blood trail.
Up on the roof, Maque is tanning.
Tonro and Raiton are quiet for a long time.
"Have you talked to your dad?" Tonro asks, looking at the drifting clouds.
Raiton shakes his head. "Aunt Tevil says he's looking for us."
"This a good place to be."
"I don't hate my dad. I just want him to make mom take her meds."
"Why doesn't he just send her to Humans?" Asks Tonro. The doctors had told them
that being around her own kind would likely fix her. Chante hadn't wanted to
give up his way of life, nearly unable and unwilling to be tamed.
So their mother descended into madness.
Raiton is pretty upset about it, even if he doesn't give any indication.
He lies beside her, tattoos the color of gold climbing like vines up the 'V'
between his narrow hips.
It bears no association to Haunku's Clan, one his father is closely affiliated
with. Maque wonders why he had them put there, traces them idly.
"Where do we go after your training, Maque?"
She gives a measuring glance to Tonro, looks at Raiton. His fingers run over
the tips of her hair with a sort of reverence.
"To mainland. I crave to know what's there."
Raiton and Tonro look to each other.
Tonro rests his hand on her knee. "Are you sure?"
"Unless you don't want to. We can go somewhere else. But I'm curious."
Raiton sits up. "I'll check with Qett and Dokta."
When he's gone, Tonro looks at her. "You've done something."
"I've done a lot of little somethings. And the moment They can't use me
anymore, They'll throw me to the eschneider and never think of me again."
Tonro is anxious then. "Maque. What have you done to yourself. To us?"
Maque sighs. "Tonro. It's for the good of you. Of Qett and Dokta and Raiton-"
"If you actually loved Raiton and I, you wouldn't put yourself in this
position."
Her bright blue eyes meet his. They're nearly seafoam green. "Don't even
question that I'm willing to fight and to die to keep you and Raiton alive."
Chapter End Notes
     This chapter needs to be messed with a lot more. But I'm done with it
     for now.
***** Before Your First Cup of Tea in The Morning (And Before You Lie Down at
Night) *****
Chapter Summary
     Chiikets is really starting to hate the traditions set before King
     Sonere brought unity to the island.
     But, the traditions are typically there for a reason.
Chapter Notes
     The same awkward anatomy from before.
     Because... Reasons. A lot of it has been taken out... I'm not
     entirely sure if this one or the other version is better.
     Violence, too.
     Good thing we're coming to end of this series, right?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
When the Pride is established, Chiikets is "encouraged" to do an old tradition.
Chiikets is really starting to hate the traditions set before King Sonere
brought unity to the island.
But, the traditions are typically there for a reason.
 
In the cool air of early Autumn, signaling that time of year again, he settles
his hand lightly onto the crown of Kajiim's head.
The quiet girl gives him a startled look, afraid this tradition will include
her. Thankfully, it doesn't.
If they don't marry her off by next year, it will.
"Where is Honjin?" This is who he will start with. She is pretty and a good
warrior. Her relation to Chante means her blood is good, too. He ended with her
last year. Not that she really cares either way.
Kajiim points in the direction of the stream.
This confuses Chiikets.
It's too cool to be playing in the water.
Upon his arrival, he realizes it isn't the water she has sought out.
The noises she makes rouse his curiosity. He knows what she's doing - rather,
what's being done to her - but there's always consent to account for.
With a soft sigh, steeling himself for the images he's about to stupidly
assault his own brain with, he draws one of his knives, the length of a
Female's forearm, from its sheath on his right hip. There's a matching knife on
his left but he has high doubts he'll need it.
When he glances at them, he wants to stab his eyes out. (Regardless of the fact
that half an hour ago, he fully intended to see Honjin naked.)
The sex is utterly consensual. Good for them.
Part of him wants to chase off the other Male and he ignores it. Honjin is able
to partake with whomever she pleases so long as she does it before Spring.
Preferably before late Winter.
The children have to be old enough to survive the harsh Winters.
Honjin's voice reaches a crescendo as he slips back into the thick greenery.
It's sort of typical for Honjin to do her own thing, so he doesn't worry about
whoever she's with.
If she becomes pregnant, he will be forced to deal with it.
The man she's with will be qualified to challenge him to a death match with no
intervention from the rest of the Clan.
But the Male didn't appear to be too formidable.
As soon as the thought comes, the image resurfaces and it's all Chiikets can do
to push it down, to will it away. "Oh, Yinkya. I wish she had told me what she
was doing."
"Are you praying?" Asks Asheer, eyebrow quirked in what's probably amusement.
"Sort of," He says.
"I think," She touches her middle fingertip in the small dip between her bottom
lip and chin. A sexual come on from every point of view, "you can do more
useful things with that mouth."
He gives her what he hopes is a casual once-over. "Oh?"
Her lips twitch. "My slick quajen needs some attention."
Well, He thinks, that was forward. "Suppose I should give some to it?"
The look she gives him makes him think he's about to be the one eaten. His
pants tighten just a little. He should be turning her down. She's too pushy.
And with his luck, she'll become heavy with his child, ascend in rank, and
terrorize the other Females.
Should he pull out?
That would bring her disgrace if anyone knew. It would shame her even if people
didn't.
There's nothing he can do except to hope nothing comes of it. He'd be a sort of
idiot not to mate with her.
An utter fool to get her pregnant.
 
For a woman full of temper and violence, she's remarkably tender, albeit a
screamer. Their rut is a brisk one, and not on his behalf. She likes it hot and
rough.
He's just this side of thankful when it's over.
When he was a younger man, first stepping out into the world, he would have
gladly had and tended to his own harem, let them sort things out for
themselves.
But now, he plays their politics, walks that careful line between quajen and
tyrant. Keeps one woman from abusing the others and stares down any uncouth
behavior with little tolerance.
He can hardly believe any man at all would want something so exhausting.
He doesn't dare enter Denii's quarters. She's moaning and Kajmir is gasping
something in some foreign language Chiikets thinks is called "Frank." He thinks
that it's a stupid name but the Humans are the ones that taught it to him.
He really isn't sure how his friend convinced them to teach him Frank, it's a
strange language. He's taught Denii some of it so he can practice it.
Ironically, he still isn't worried about his Second trying to overthrow him,
even if he can't understand their conversations
"J'taime," Breathes his friend as the cool down on the other side of the door
begins.
He can't believe he's stood there, musing long enough for it to be over.
"Mon ami?" Asks Kajmir as Chiikets turns to creep away. This word he does know:
Friend. "Is everything alright?" He thinks Denii is trying to recapture
Kajmir's attention, they've gone back to sloppy kissing and Chiikets figures
he's off the hook, long forgotten in favour of Denii's mouth.
 
There are way too many women that lie in wait for him. Literally.
When he drops face first into the bed beside Shiseken, she is slow to face him.
"Productive day?"
"Barely." Between pinning down Females (being pinned down by them is more like
it), he has to chop wood, check their traps, trim the nails of their meeks and
make sure the squeaky animals are cared for.
He has to set new traps, secure new animal skins to the stable, reap whatever
he can out of the fields before Fall truly sets in, the list goes on and on.
And he's never been so grateful to have Kajmir and the other subordinate Males.
Who still can't seem to win Kajiim over.
Shiseken runs her fingers through his hair. He thinks, that at the pace they're
going, everybody is going to scrape through Winter.
They won't thrive, but it's enough that his Clan makes it.
When he turns his head to look at her, she's lying on her side, watching him
with warmth.
"Enough energy for one more?"
"Unf." Is all he says. A cross between a grunt and a huff.
She stops him when he goes to roll over, straddles his hips.
She could kill him right now. His guard is down that far.
Her hands, callused, rough, and so very skilled, drag up his back, pushing his
shirt with them and baring his skin. He tries to stay relaxed as her knuckles
press deep into his muscle. "Does having sex all day really stress you out?"
Ah. There's yet another issue to resolve. Should that be at the top of the list
or on another one completely?
She doesn't dig her nails in when he is slow to respond, always the patient one
between them. "It isn't just sex."
Her hands pause and he realizes that maybe he shouldn't speak at all. "It's
politics. Keeping my place at the top." His shifts, awkwardly slides his hand
up her right calf, then downward to her ankle. "And you as my lady."
And that's, really, what all of this is about. The winning man is the one with
the biggest Clan and the most children.
The winning woman is the one that has beared him the most. Bearing a son brings
better rewards in this particular Clan.
"Asheer is dead set on changing that."
"She can try," Says Chiikets.
He's able to let himself relax when her body (along with Laniika and Kiste,)
shows signs of being with child. But he's a little more than concerned when
Asheer's smell begins to change as well.
 
"Kets," She moans when he pulls his arm away from her mouth. The teeth marks
don't phase him the slightest. "Oh, Kets."
"I'm here," He breathes. They're both shimmering with sweat. And his hooks are
still settled firmly into her. "I'm here, Shise."
His mouth meets hers as she catches her breath.
Her body twitches when he accidentally disturbs her clit.
Eventually, his hooks recede back into their slits and he's able to slip out of
her without tearing her open.
He lies his head against her breast and breathes in their mingling scents.
When she grasps his hand and runs it over her stomach, he's surprised. His
heart, already thundering in his ears, skips a beat when their child kicks
against his hand.
"You're alright," He says. He can hear how soft his voice is and it's strange.
He's not the type - He knows he isn't - for all this "Daddy" stuff.
The baby kicks again. Shiseken and Chiikets share a fond look and he kisses
her, runs kisses over her bare throat.
He can feel her chuckle against his lips, vibrating through the thin skin of
her throat. "I'm too sensitive for another round."
He lets out a breath against her neck. "Hooking does that to you, does it?"
She runs her hands up and down his strong back, pressing as hard as her hands
will allow. "I'm sorry to say."
"Mm," Is his reply. The baby kicks against his hand again.
 
Kajmir and the Subordinate Males are standing in a line, looking up at the
cabin.
"What?" Asks Chiikets as he approaches them.
"There's a tree limb," Says Mokko. "On the roof."
"We could send Sasayo up," Says Kajmir. "He's got no fear."
Chiikets shakes his head. "He won't have the strength."
Sasayo nods. "It's bigger than me."
"Everything is bigger than you," Says Chante.
Liv, Honjin's lover, frowns. "I don't have the balance."
"I get so scared I freeze," Says Mokko.
Chiikets takes his time mulling it over. "Okay. Chante, Kajmir. I need you two
to push it. I'll pull."
Sasayo grabs his sleeve. "You could fall!"
He gently shakes the younger Male off. "Then if I die, Kajmir is in charge."
The three of them are slow to climb the tree that overhangs their home. Chante
and Kajmir take their positions, don't move until Chiikets is in his.
"Aren't you scared of heights?" Whispers Chante.
Chiikets looks up, taking hold of the more sturdy branches. "Terrified,
actually."
Kajmir frowns. "We could have called Sasayo up."
Chiikets snorts. "The branch would be moving him."
Kajmir laughs at that.
It takes the three of them to move it. Chiikets almost loses his balance twice.
When they finally get it down, Chiikets is the first to meet the ground. Chante
is second, Kajmir is last.
 
Weeks go by and Kajmir has noticed the tense set of his friend's shoulders.
Coming home from a hunt, they trail behind.
Their silence is pretty regular. Kajmir has learned he's welcome to fill it on
a good day but he's still thinking of the best way to approach him.
"Kajmir?"
He turns hazel eyes to his friend, Chiikets would know he's listening even if
he chose not to acknowledge the man. But that is disrespectful and Kajmir has
learned that if he or Shiseken are disrespectful, everyone will try to do it,
too.
Chiikets had a hard year keeping everyone in their place after that had
happened. Chiikets is still trying his damnedest to let that go.
Because he loves Kajmir, the shorter man knows, but it's his nature to return
an eye for an eye. And in this world, it's necessary.
"Your genetics are terri-" He clacks his teeth shut before he can finish, blue
eyes slide this way and that as he looks for a less harmful word.
"Yes, my genetics are bad. But I'm still healthy. Still strong enough to stay
your Second." He lets there be a pause. Wants there to be an importance to his
next words. "If that's what you want?"
Chiikets gives him a startled look. And startling some one like him is, even
for Kajmir, probably a bad idea. "No. No, that isn't where I'm going with
this." Kajmir raises his eyebrows. "Why do women flock to you?"
He clears his throat so he doesn't sound like he's choking on his own spit.
Yeah. He's choking just a little.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. My friend," Says Kajmir. "I merely don't understand." He knows
Chiikets isn't insulting him. It's almost like awe, the way he asked. "Women
flock to you, too."
Chiikets gives a brief look around to see if anyone's listening. "That may be.
But they are only interested in, well," Chiikets gestures to his own body.
"This. They've got no real interest in me as a being."
Ah, Kajmir gets it now, What do you have that I don't? Is really what he's
asking. And it's true. It's hard for even Kajmir to, at times, see past the
narrow eyes, intimidating height, and muscular frame of his friend.
Kajmir isn't fat, but he tries to keep himself lean. It's a real struggle.
Especially when Denii makes pie.
Before Kajmir can focus on salivating over the very idea of Denii's pastries,
he lightly says. "Charm. Something you're certainly wanting for, my friend."
Kajmir is the only person who can really get away with bone deep honesty with
Chiikets. Even Shiseken is turned away sometimes.
It's all about the approach, Kajmir has learned.
"Charm?" Asks Chiikets.
Kajmir shrugs. "You could smile a little more."
It's a rare thing. And sometimes, Chiikets' smile is more terrifying than his
scowl. "But I don't really think you need it. You have Shiseken."
"That I do," He says. His tone implies something has, yet again, gone awry
between them.
"Well," Says Kajmir, "there is that, I guess."
"There is that," Chiikets agrees. He obviously doesn't know how to appease his
woman this time. Kajmir will make no suggestions.
 
Chiikets' only son to make it through the Winter, Chikotsu - Ko for short, is
sharp as a needle, all observant eyes and constant thought.
Kajmir's own son, Sanyo, is as sweet as pie. Wide-eyed innocence and
mispronounced words.
Everything is good.
Chiikets is settled on one of the stools around the fire pit, a table adjacent.
He tries to sit still while Shiseken works on what the Humans call a "bullet
wound." It had been a terrifying thing. Kajmir and Kiren had nearly lost him.
Rozolyn had been coolly watching the man bleed out. She honestly couldn't have
cared less about him, Kajmir knows.
And he would have killed her if she hadn't pulled the one trick up her sleeve.
She knew where Shura was.
And it meant nothing to most. She isn't anything more than Kenjin's estranged
wife.
But Kajmir needs her for something.
It might even be a game changer, might keep them at the top of the food chain.
Then again, Lillith is probably a better option. But she's more likely to drink
his blood than save it.
Chikotsu sits nearby, watching his mother's skilled hands.
Chiikets is feverish, holding to his duties as best he can. Which is still more
than Kajmir can do when he's sick.
 
It's happened.
The one thing Kajmir had prayed they could avoid is happening.
Liv is getting restless with Honjin so close to giving birth.
The raven-haired man isn't playing when he swings his hatchet at Chiikets. And
without his knives, he's at a disadvantage. But he's already in trouble
considering his shoulder is healing but not healed.
And Kajmir isn't allowed to do anything.
If Liv were a random Male out to take over, they could attack, chase him out.
But sireing a child, means he has a place here. It means this is strictly
between himself and Chiikets.
And Kajmir hates Honjin just a little for picking a Male that would never have
been happy as a subordinate.
If Liv wins, both Males and cubs are in danger.
Chiikets grabs the handle of the hatchet as it comes down, uses his weight and
strength to try to wrench it from the other man's grip.
He's taller so he has better leverage.
Liv bares his teeth and Chiikets does the same. He shoves against the taller
man, trying his damnedest to knock their leader off balance.
When they appear to reach a stalemate, Chiikets' left fist sends Liv staggering
back. The red-haired man punches him again, but Liv grabs his wrist, turns, and
flips Chiikets over his shoulder.
Kajmir is sure that nobody can bear to breathe at this moment.
Chiikets is on his back, likely stunned.
Chikotsu shifts anxiously beside his mother. If his father loses, he's
definitely dead.
Chiikets rolls to his knees, topples backwards when Liv's hatchet comes down.
Liv doesn't want to just be at the top.
He really intends to kill Chiikets.
The bigger man swipes Liv's feet out from under him and the dark haired man
falls forward, blade positioned to split Chiikets' head open.
Time seems to slow for a moment and Kajmir lunges forwards but Mokko and Chante
take hold of him. He can tell they want to do something just as much as he
does.
Chiikets barely avoids the blade and there's almost a collective sigh amongst
the group.
They grapple, Liv atop Chiikets for several moments before the bigger man flips
their positions, knocks the hatchet from the man's grip and lays into Liv with
his fists until the other man surrenders.
Chiikets, panting from exertion and adrenaline, stands and kicks the hatchet a
few feet away. His son comes running to him and Chiikets eases to one knee. The
boy wraps his arms tight around his father's neck and Kajmir is utterly
relieved. He sits down in the dirt and puts his head in his hands and sends up
thanks to every god he remembers the name of.
"Kets!" Cries Shiseken.
Kajmir looks up and tries not to cry out, too.
Chiikets shoves the boy away and turns too late.
It's too late.
The hatchet buries itself in the man's shoulder, the same shoulder with the
bullet wound. Kajmir thinks that if he hadn't been injured in the first place,
hadn't been weakened, none of this would have happened. Liv wouldn't have taken
his chances. Chiikets would have been able to end it a lot sooner.
There's the crunching of bone and blood spatters onto Chiikets and Liv and the
boy hidden in his father's shadow.
Chiikets' eyes are shut as he grips the handle, right under the blade.
When he opens them, his left hand collides with the accosting Male's face.
Liv tries to flip him again but he digs his heel in and uses the top of his
other foot to pull the dark haired man' stance off balance.
As soon as Liv is pulling away, trying to get distance, Chiikets is, with
gritted teeth, pulling the blade out of his shoulder. There's a cracking sound
that makes Kajmir's stomach turn.
Chiikets seems a little faint but the look on his face tells the Second that
it's not over til somebody is dead.
Liv goes in for a strike, Chiikets swipes the hatchet through the air at him
and he dances back. But their leader, is angry and tired, he isn't going to
play anymore games.
Liv is utterly surprised when Chiikets darts in with more speed than he's used
in awhile. The hatchet in his left hand instead of his right makes his swipes a
little clumsy. Less exact.
Liv grunts when the blade comes into contact with him, gasps when it does a
second time and Chiikets pushes him to his knees before delivering a blow the
soaks him in Liv's blood.
And Liv drops to the dirt, eyes staring, unseeing, at the clouds that have been
giving them shade on and off throughout the day.
Chiikets drops the hatchet, collapses to his knees and his Clan gathers around
him. Honjin cries over Liv.
And Chiikets expects that. Many of them loved Liv. Even the red haired man
himself, liked Liv.
There are hands carding through his hair. Others touch his face, worry over his
destroyed shoulder.
They're talking to him but he doesn't have the energy to put the jumble of
voices into words.
He looks over and his son is watching him. He musters a smile and the boy looks
conflicted. Like he wants to come a little closer but he's scared to. And it
feels like a blow to his gut to remember that was the same way Shen would look
at him after he won a skirmish.
Chiikets holds out his hand to the skittish boy.
His boy.
And Ko creeps forward enough for Chiikets to wrap his good arm around him, to
hold him close. His son is wearing his blood anyway, what's a little more?
"I love you," He whispers into the mop of red hair.
"I love you, too," The boy whispers back, almost shyly, into what's left of his
shirt.
Chiikets becomes left handed after that, waiting for his body to heal.
It's a big effort to keep it from getting infected.
When Honjin gives birth to a little girl, Chiikets can take no part of it. His
hands aren't steady anymore.
There are plenty of Females to help, though. Chante has also stayed close.
Aside, from that, most Females are able to give birth by themselves.
Saimii is a curious child. All smiles and playfulness.
Her eyes are the same color as Liv's, so light a green that they almost look
yellow.
 
It's weeks later that Sasayo comes to him. "I noticed you're taking more care
of Shiseken than she is of you. Is that fair?"
Chiikets looks up from the scroll he's practicing his writing on. It's
practically illegible because his left hand has never been used for delicate
work. Sasayo is asking a genuine question. He doesn't want trouble between his
Leader and the Chosen.
He wants Chiikets to heal.
He unfastens his wrappings, knowing full well he'll need his wife's help to
refasten them later. And she'll be angry and think him irresponsible. His
shoulder screams, hot piercing pain twists itself into every piece it can on
his right side. His neck, shoulder, back and clavical make him wish he'd let it
be, but he pushes through it, sets his wrist on the table.
Sasayo looks pale but he ignores it. He ignores the sweat beading at his brow,
too, as he clears his throat. "See that?" He gestures with his chin to the dark
purple fabric that had been hidden in attempts to keep his shoulder from being
further aggravated.
"Your Jiira?" Sasayo is confused. "What of it?"
"It's proof that I promised to take care of my child's mother."
Sasayo opens his mouth to speak but Chiikets starts in again. "That doesn't
mean I only care about her when the sun is shining and the food is plenty and
we're on top of the world."
Sasayo looks intently at the Jiira.
"That means right here, right now. Even if the only thing I'm able to do is get
her tea in the morning."
"But what's her promise to you?"
Chiikets has never really thought about that. He should but he always feels
selfish when he tries. "To bear and raise my young. And to help me get up when
I fall."
"That's not a lot," Says Sasayo.
"But look at what she does without a promise. She keeps my house in order,
teaches the young women how to do the things they ought. She's busy even though
she doesn't have to be."
Sasayo's expression becomes thoughtful at that.
"Remember, this," Says Chiikets. "Because I won't be around for much longer."
His eyes turn to the wound in his shoulder. Pretty soon, other Clans are going
to notice.
And they're going to try to pick him off. Sasayo can feel his sinuses burn.
"Stop that," Says Chiikets, voice reprimanding. "You don't cry until two weeks
after I'm gone. Do you understand?"
His eyes meet Chiikets' and there's something haunting about all of this. "I
understand, Father. Why two weeks?"
"That's enough time for everything to settle down. For my body to be dealt with
and Kajmir to take his place."
He and Kajmir have been discussing who will be Kajmir's Second.
Kajmir would rather have Sasayo than Chante, a womanizer, or Mokko. But Kajmir
refuses to talk about why he doesn't want Mokko.
An outsider would be bad news. Chiikets idly wonders if they should make Kiren
the Second. "I need you to commit this to memory, Sasayo."
The young Male looks at him again. "Your woman and your children should always
come before you. Before any and everything else. Before your first cup of tea
in the morning and before you lie down at night."
Sasayo nods.
"If Kajiim needs you, don't you ever hesitate to be there."
Chapter End Notes
     I'm on Tumblr! And hopefully with some art for anyone who cares.
     ttiw-art-and-misc.tumblr.com
     So don't be shy!
     -War
***** The Choices We Make *****
Chapter Summary
     Everything goes to hell for Kieve.
Chapter Notes
     Sex and angst. The usual, right?
His world bottoms out, screeches to a horrific halt as he meets Enko's eye. "It
was you. You killed Kuden."
Enko says nothing.
He knows he should be quieter, but he's forced to sacrifice stealth for speed.
There's howling. They're looking for him now. His bare feet ache from all the
twigs and rocks he's stupidly stepped on. He'd be freezing if he weren't high
with adrenaline.
He's almost out of her territory. Almost free.
Something thin and silvery pulls taut and his foot catches.
"Going somewhere?" She asks, standing over him, looking down.
The trip wire winds around his ankle. His face hurts from where it hit the
dirt.
"Let me go!" He screams as she drags him back to her temple by the trip wire.
"Let me go, you fucking bitch!"-
When he sits up gasping, he isn't really sure why he's so terrified. Regardless
that he knows sleeping at this moment is a bad thing.
It's a nightmare that does have a happy ending.
He knows because it was Renjin that dragged him through the woods, kicking and
screaming - literally.
His first night at the temple, he made a run for it.
Renjin had been pissed but Sorajin had gotten him out of being beaten within an
inch of his life.
He's pretty surprised that memory has resurfaced.
Sort of bothered by it, actually.
And maybe it's because he's going to see them. It's been two years and he's
tired. He needs to remind himself why he's doing this.
Because he's just killed two people and he doesn't want to face it today.
His hands are much dirtier than they ever were with Sorajin. It was always like
the groups were playing a big game. The people they fought rarely died -
Because groups always retreated before they lost their major players.
But things are different out here. Out in this world, everything is for keeps
and there aren't any do-overs.
Kieve has had to learn this the hard way.
He's a lot harder than he was when he left them at twenty.
He showers first, painstakingly washes his rings after. Some of them have gore
dried to the bands and he knows Sorajin will ask him about it if he sees it.
And maybe Sorajin will have been hardened, too.
This thought makes him anxious. Because he still loves the dark haired man and
the idea that he has been through the dark just as much as Kieve is unsettling.
Inan knows he's doing something he ought not to be, but thinks he's already
left so he'll probably be confronted when he returns.
"Sorry," He says as he begins out of the washroom. He receives silence. Which
he expects. He doesn't really think the orange-haired man hanging from the
beams of the ceiling and the man lying on the tile floor, blood spattered on
the clean, monotonous white, would have much to say anyway. Even if they were
still alive.
 
"We've received word that Kieve has been associated with a particularly active
group of Tarshish."
Haunku and Anju have done some traveling to meet them half way. They come
alone, but Sorajin knows that Haunku could probably kill all of them if he
wanted to.
"Which group?" Asks Sorajin. Part of him is happy for Kieve. That man deserves
to be among his own. But some small part is jealous. And selfish. Wants Kieve
to itself.
"The rebels."
Sorajin's blood runs cold. "No."
Renjin glances at him and he shakes his head. "No. Kieve isn't like that. He
would never-"
"When was the last time you saw him?" Asks Anju.
Sorajin frowns. "Two years ago."
"People change, Sorajin," Says Haunku. "I think you need to be asking what he's
been doing."
Sorajin frowns. "And if he is?"
"We kill him," Says Anju. "People have been seeing him right before major
Tarshish attacks. We think he's orchestrating them."
 
Sorajin glances at Renjin. "I'll deal with him."
They walk a little further and Renjin asks, "Can you handle it?"
"He's mine-" Sorajin has to stop himself, licks his lips. "He was mine. I have
to do it."
Renjin nods, looking just as sorry as Sorajin feels.
 
Sorajin's wife is beautiful. Dusted with freckles and gifted with slightly
larger eyes than most. Her hair is bright, flaming red, but kept covered.
She looks a good deal like her mother-in-law. One of the main differences would
be her face and features in general. They're softer, rounder and have less of a
stone-cold-murderer feel.
Sorajin loves her.
A lot.
Kieve knows by the tenderness with which he looks at her. The subtle touches of
his hand and his thigh against hers.
Kieve knows that look. But has only earned rare glimpses of it.
They're trying to have a baby. The Clan is getting restless. And even though
it's only been two years, people are worried something will happen to their
Heir and his Wife.
She is kind to Kieve when he expects scathing remarks. Expects her to despise
him. She's merely curious about who he is.
There's dinner and laughing and the nine-year-old twins talking him nearly to
death.
Emma wants to know everything. From Kieve's training to what he does in his
free time. Youten just wants to know how much ass he's kicked while he's been
away.
Emma's training is, unsurprisingly, different than Youten's. Even Sorajin's.
Women in this Clan are a higher rank than men, who are almost second class at
this point.
But Sorajin and Ruuka want to work together to change that.
They want to be equal.
But, they also want a child. And that doesn't appear to be happening any time
soon.
Renjin and Sanchu have missed him. They've organized a banquet for his return,
made sure that everything he likes is at hand.
Takka has been courting a man. (Chances of him coming to his senses and making
a run for it are pretty high. So Kieve doesn't worry about it.)
At some point, everyone moves to the sitting room, talking and laughing and
smiling and Kieve, for a moment or two, forgets he ever left.
Ruuka likes him, sits between himself and Sorajin, but it doesn't bother him.
He should feel jealous, right?
Isn't that what all once-lovers feel when they aren't together anymore?
He should hate her. But he really thinks she'll make Sorajin happy. That she
makes him happy.
It would be absolutely awful for Kieve to do anything to ruin that.
Soon, the twins are sent to bed. The adults tell all sort of stories.
"Two weeks ago," Says Renjin. "That little blonde-"
"Sech," Says Sorajin and a thin face with foxy features comes to mind. He
remembers Sech smelling like pine and blood.
"That one," Says Renjin. "He had the nerve to try to steal Takka's under
garments."
"I don't know what the point was," Takka says. "Renjin's would have been more
apt."
Kieve is sort of surprised, too. "Did he say why?"
"He gave me that coming-of-age molk."
"Well, Your kind typically do like older women." Women over thirty-three are
prized. If they live to be that age, it's a sign that they're prime mate
material. Someone worthy of child bearing. Young, virile men oft seek them out.
Takka has turned down quite a few suitors. She hates young men, calls them cubs
to their faces.
She retires to her quarters after a few more stories.
Renjin has an early morning so she and Sanchu call it a night shortly after.
Ruuka stays and talks, Kieve notices she only ever talks about Tishta, who was
sent with her as a sort of dowry. She doesn't talk about any of her other
family members, which bothers Kieve. She and Sorajin share glances Kieve
doesn't mind not being privy to while she talks about everything they've
accomplished.
Kieve is happy, really. He is. But their leaps and bounds make him feel like
he's taking slow, wobbly baby steps towards his goal.
Ruuka, after a while and a soft kiss to Sorajin's lips, bids them goodnight and
slips off to their quarters.
Kieve is amused when he watches Sorajin watch Ruuka.
There's longing and love in the Human's eyes.
"You're really into her."
Sorajin turns sheepish. "Ah. Sorry. Is it," He pauses, licks his lips, "Do we
make you uncomfortable?"
Kieve shakes his head. "I'm happy for you."
Sorajin's look turns sly. "Anybody you're courting? You've been so vague about
what's been going on."
Kieve bites his lip. Should he talk about her? "They're not really ready to be
open about our relationship." If Inan knew, he'd probably be angry.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
"Well," Says Sorajin. "As long as you're happy with them." His smile is so
genuine that Kieve realizes, all over again, he's missed it. Sorajin scoots
closer so their thighs touch and Kieve feels more heat than he's used to
radiating off the man.
Gods, has he become a man.
His features have become firm, lean lines and his eyes have more depth to them.
He wonders how long Sorajin has been a man. Not just a Sparrow pretending to be
an adult in walk and talk, but a real, mature, attractive male.
Did it happen under Kieve's nose without his notice?
Did it happen in his absence?
And was it because of his absence?
Was Kieve holding back Sorajin's overall growth?
"I hear you've acquainted yourself with other Tarshish," Says Sorajin. His
voice is deeper, too. A touch melodious. But maybe it's all in Kieve's head.
Kieve nods at him. "It's different than I expected it to be."
"Like?" Prompts Sorajin.
Kieve is quiet for a long time. "Like, they drink. They treat each other more
differently than I've ever seen anyone do."
Sorajin soaks in this information. Then he looks at Kieve. "Are their
mentalities different?"
Sorajin is fishing, Kieve realizes. He's genuinely interested, but there's
something dangerous in his eyes. Cunning in his hands - If that makes any
sense. Maybe Kieve is so anxious about being caught that he's cracked and
doesn't know it.
"Yes," Kieve says slowly. "But not too much."
When Sorajin tries to prompt him again, he just smiles. He hates that he's
playing this kind of game with his ex-lover.
"You know," Says Sorajin softly after a while, leaning so close his breath
brushes against Kieve's neck. "People are talking about you."
Kieve turns carefully to look him in the eye. "Yeah?"
He jumps when Sorajin's hand slides over his thigh.
Alarm bells are going off, but Kieve has no idea what's causing it.
"I'm so proud of you," Whispers Sorajin. Kieve catches a whiff of Sorajin's
favorite tea on his breath. Sorajin's scent is sort of smokey, not unpleasant.
But different.
There's a touch of the oils he sometimes uses when his skin is dry and has
started cracking. This particular smell isn't totally pleasant, has a mildly
bitter tint.
Kieve wonders how he smells to the man beside him. Some part of him, the part
that screams and cries and hates every part of itself every time he makes a
kill, tells him he probably smells like sweat and tears and blood.
"That means a lot to me, Jin." Because it does. If his ex-lover is proud of
him, this means he can be proud of himself. But there's the stuff Sorajin
doesn't know. That, should it ever come to light, is what will decide how
Sorajin will really feel about him.
He's surprised when Sorajin's mouth finds his, lets his friend's tongue explore
his mouth.
Sorajin's hand snakes up his shirt and he knows something is wrong. That he
shouldn't let Sorajin this close because this is so.... Forward for the other
man.
He lets Sorajin push him down onto the soft cushions, closes his eyes as the
dark haired man slides his gloved hands over Kieve's chest and stomach.
"Your hair is longer."
"Yeah," Says Kieve. He's debating on how long he should let it get. Renjin had
insisted he keep it short, the Toko family ever in charge of what he wore, to
what he ate, to how long he showered.
Being in control is a weird thing.
He loves it.
"Kieve?"
He realizes he's shirtless. Sorajin's shirtless. And they're both gloveless.
He meets Sorajin's eyes. "Hm?"
"People have been saying other stuff too. I need to know where you've been.
What you've been doing."
Kieve can't bring himself to get angry. Even though he should be. Even though
Sorajin's trying to sexually interrogate him. "I can't let you get involved."
Sorajin kisses him and Kieve lets him, knowing full well that he shouldn't.
Kieve pushes Sorajin off him and stands, offering his hand to the other man who
looks at him, perplexed.
Eventually, he takes Kieve's hand, stands. The older man unhooks Sorajin's
pants and the dark haired man eases out of them, undergarments going with.
Kieve removes his without a care. Sorajin is planning on seduction.
This Tarshish is gonna let him, Thinks Kieve.
He hisses when Sorajin's hand wraps around his erection, the firm stroke he
receives has him shivering.
Mouths slide, tongues twist. And Kieve wonders if Ruuka knows about her
Husband's proclivities.
He's dripping when Sorajin's mouth takes him in with ease. There's no scrape of
teeth, no awkward attempts to be had, only wet heat.
It feels good and Kieve's breath hitches, fingers tangling in his hair. His
hips rock slowly into Sorajin's mouth. Sorajin moans around his length,
clutching at Kieve's hips. But he's not trying to make the Half Breed stop, in
fact, Sorajin eases him deeper and swallows.
Kieve can already feel his dark purple hair sticking to his face as he tries to
keep from fucking his ex-lover's face with wild abandon.
When matter starts winning over mind and Kieve's hips are trying to take
everything Sorajin's willing to give, he pulls off, the older man is panting
and the younger man is a sight to behold. Pupils blown wide, lips glistening.
He stands and Kieve's not sure he'll want to leave this place again.
Sorajin pushes him down onto the floor, onto his back.
And he watches Sorajin go through his pants pockets, definitely wonders if his
wife knows when Sorajin draws a vial from one of the folds.
When he comes back, Kieve focuses on staying pliable. He isn't sure how Sorajin
will want to do this, will want to fill him.
He relaxes, closes his eyes and day dreams while Sorajin plays with the
lubricant.
"Ack!" Sorajin's fingers are cold when they wrap around his dick, the upward
stroke more than makes up for it. "Okay. Okay," Says Kieve when he feels his
desire blazing like an all consuming fire. Like Sorajin will consume him with
his gift.
And watches with wide eyes as Sorajin takes him in.
Inky black sticks to Sorajin's face and shoulders. His face is flushed and
Kieve never wants to forget this moment.
Sorajin's dark eyes meet his and he's aware of just how tight the other man's
body is. "S-Sorajin?"
He eases up, lips parted, eyebrows drawn downwards slightly and when he slides
back down Kieve grips his hips. "Ungh. Sorajin. We can't do this."
Sorajin's eyes, full of desire and hunger narrow. "I want to take care of you.
You've always taken care of me."
Kieve smiles, runs his knuckles over Sorajin's cheek, and says with a
gentleness that surprises Kieve himself, "And I always will."
It takes a few times before Sorajin finds an angle he likes, back arching and
head back.
He's so perfect, Thinks Kieve. His lover sets a brutal pace that has the older
man hissing and roughly meeting his thrusts.
Sorajin's moans grow more wonton, but not louder. Kieve thinks he could get off
to just listening to him.
He's stroking the younger man, mindful of the noises he makes.
The coil in his stomach is getting tight and his muscles just as much. The
alarms are still going off but Kieve is stubbornly ignoring them. Chances are,
it's just Ruuka vouyering.
Sorajin's hips are ruthlessly seeking his hand now, fucking himself on Kieve
with vigor and it's all the older man can do to stay quiet.
The edge is close. He can feel himself toppling over. His hair stands on end
and his eyes open to see the terrifying glint of steel.
His hands react on instinct and the blade sinks into a spot a few inches from
his head. His long fingers wrapped around the younger man's strong wrist.
He stares into Sorajin's shimmering eyes for a long moment.
"You're one of them." Sorajin's voice is tight.
Kieve's hand shoots up but Sorajin rolls off of him. The knife makes the floor
boards creak when he pulls it out of them.
"One of who?" Kieve practically spits.
"The rebels. People report you being there when they're about to strike."
Kieve knows he's been set up.
Shusho says there's nothing they can do without it looking suspicious.
"It isn't what you think it is."
"Kieve. Do you really think that I'm blind?"
No, I think you're being stupid, Thinks Kieve as he clenches his jaw.
Sorajin's started putting off steam at Kieve's lack of response. He's going to
dehydrate himself, burn Kieve if they come into contact.
The younger man darts forward and Kieve twists to avoid the blade, launches
himself towards the rings that Sorajin had removed during their make out.
Gods, he should have known better.
He doesn't have time to put them on, rolls out of the way of Sorajin's attack
but the blade draws a thin line on his upper arm. "Sorajin, telling you
anything could get you killed." He scoots back, a line is drawn across his
cheek and he can feel blood coating his skin, already making it itch.
"I doubt I'll be in as much trouble as you are right now, Kevierkets."
The blow hurts so much more than the physical one Sorajin delivers to his face,
makes it feel like a tap. Leaves him gasping in a way a weapon never could.
And some part of him knew. Knew the whole time that this was coming. He wants
to let Sorajin kill him but he has to survive this encounter. His work isn't
finished. Shusho still needs him.
The blade comes down again.
"Am I just the Tarshish you rescued and pity until you're bored and need
something to tear the wings off of?" It pauses over his chest. And when he
looks up, Sorajin's face is streaked with tears.
"You don't have any right to ask me that."
"You have every right to trust me."
"Kieve-"
"Kevierkets."
"No, I-"
Kieve shoves him away. "You can't take that back." He slips his rings on,
thinks about throwing them at Renjin until she bleeds. Because she has to know
this was going on.
Do they even still think of him as family?
Did they ever?
"Kets..." That's a safe nickname to give. Kets: Men. "I tried. But if you don't
tell me, I have to assume the worst."
"Fuck you."
Sorajin recoils as though he's the one that's been burned. "Kieve-"
"Kevierkets."
"Would you stop that? I'm sorry."
"I'm not," He fastens his pants, pulls on his gloves. "If I wanted to be a
rebel, I'd have killed you." At Sorajin's look, Kieve gives in to that part of
him that wants to get back at his ex-lover. "They asked me about it when I was
a Yona. Gave me the guidelines." And I didn't trust you enough to say anything,
His tone says.
Sorajin's lips thin. "No."
"And you know what? Someone will eventually come to kill you. It won't be me."
You'll never see me again, Hangs in the air. "Maybe I should have joined the
cause. They're winning anyways."
Sorajin is watching him, trying to sort out the molk from the truth.
Kieve turns to him. "Sometimes, I wish you were mute instead of Sanchu."
He doesn't speak, eyes downcast. And Kieve wants to hurt him. Wants to makes
him cry and scream and bleed.
His rings pulse and he notices the younger man watching him again. There's a
sliver of fear there. Less sorrow and angst.
For a split second, Kieve wonders what Sorajin's blood would feel like on his
skin.
He stops in the doorway, looks over his shoulder at Sorajin.
"I can't believe I was willing to die for you."
He doesn't have nightmares of his family being murdered by faceless Tarshish
after that.
No, the person murdering them is himself.
He should be bothered but he only feels a gaping hole, taking every last
sensation. Every moment of pleasure from him.
He lets it.
He tries to forget them. Tries not to let Sorajin's words hurt him. Tries to
forgive Renjin and Sanchu and Takka for posting guards that know his face.
And he can't.
 
"Ara?" He asks, stepping into her quarters. "Hey. I just came by to drop
something off."
There's no response so he guesses she's away, sets the bouquet onto her desk
and knocks over a folder.
Swearing to himself, he picks up the papers, pauses when he notices a drawing
of Sorajin. He feels like a child when the small pieces are scattered over the
floor and he's panting with exertion.
There's a drawing of him, too.
He's much slower, more deliberate as he tears the image of himself at eighteen
in half. Then half again.
He's nothing like he used to be.
The folder reads Illia on the front, he notices.
He's curious as to why he'd be in a woman's folder.
The leader of the Exiles is there, a red line slashed in the middle of his
name.
Which makes no sense. He's still alive and trying to take over Rozolyn's
Territory.
Kieve's name is underlined in red, though.
Sorajin's is circled.
"Hey, Kieve. I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in," Ara has obviously been in
the bathroom, her hair is dripping.
"No big," He says, leans against the table and pretends he never saw the folder
he left on it. She turns to go to her bedroom and he watches her. "Oh, and
Illia?" Her entire body goes rigid and Kieve feels his heart give a wrench so
painful, he thinks he might be dying.
She turns slowly to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you right. What did you call
me?"
"Illia. Isn't that your name?"
Honey brown eyes are fearful, darting this way and that. "Kieve. I-"
"Isn't it?"
Ara - Illia stares at him, whispers a barely audible, "I'm sorry, Kieve."
Kieve promises to never love anyone again.
 
"You're working for Shusho," Says Kieve one morning, looking at her over his
cup of tea.
Maque is silent for a few minutes. "So are you."
"So, we're on the same side then."
"Yes," She says. "But I would think twice about being friendly with me."
"What? Can't stand me?"
"No," She draws out the word. "I merely know more than you think I do."
At his look, she breathes in a slow, deep breath. "I know you cry when you're
blindfolded."
Something flickers behind his eyes and his rings come to life then lose their
glow, first the rings on his middle and little fingers, then his index and ring
fingers. "That was you."
Maque isn't one hundred percent sure they're on the same page, but it means the
same to her. "You needed it."
"Yinkya! You sucked me off! Isn't that rape?"
"It isn't if you consented to it."
There's a hum of energy around them. The pendant on Maque's collar glows as
Kieve's rings pulse.
"You don't fuck with the heads of your teammates."
"We don't have affairs with the opposition."
Kieve scowls and the cup in Maque's hand rattles. "I didn't know she wasn't on
our side."
"Did you think that she was just going doe-eyed through life, unaware that this
was happening? Did you honestly believe she wasn't going to watch out for her
own? She's Tarshish!"
His fist on the table makes the glassware clatter. "I'm Tarshish, too, damn
it!" His voice has so many emotions twisted into it.
Maque softens then, just slightly. Her hand reaches out but pauses at his look.
"I forget sometimes," She seems to be choosing her words, "how hard it is for
you."
"Is that so?"
"You're stuck in the middle. You want to belong. But you look for it in all the
wrong places."
 
A year later, the walls are closing in and he can't trust anyone and he's
scared. Scared out of his fucking mind and he never should have tried to do
this on his own.
"Kieve," Says Shusho. "Calm down."
Kieve drops his head in his hands and lets himself cry. "It's over. It's over."
Shusho sits beside him. "You have to look at the bigger picture here."
"I can't do this. I don't care about the fucking bigger-things-than-us speech."
Shusho lets him cry. Lets him hurt and says nothing until he's calmer. More
rational. "It will all be okay."
But it's not. Nothing is going to be.
"Alright," Shusho says. "I have a plan. But you will have to risk your life for
it to work."
Kieve is skeptical.
But he's also desperate.
 
When he receives news of Kieve's death, it's like a piece of him has died, too.
The man that gave him the news, handed him two letters.
One addressed to the family.
The other, addressed to Sorajin.
He can't bear to open it.
The agony of the last things he said to Kieve. The entire night playing in an
unstoppable loop for days.
Everything after awakes the memories of Kieve as his Yona. He can't walk
through the halls without flashbacks of them walking through the halls at
thirteen and fifteen. At sixteen and eighteen. Finally, at seventeen and
twenty.
Kieve's birthday is six months before his.
His breath catches. A strangled noise escapes him.
Kieve's birthday was six months before his.
***** Sugar and Spice and More Sarcasm Than Necessary *****
Chapter Summary
     For a pessimist, Sho is pretty optimistic.
No, Thinks Sho. No. No. No.
Ranka, apathetic to the damage, watches him quietly.
Sho knows he shouldn't act like this in front of Ranka.
But they're gone. They're all gone.
Megan is gone.
"They're just Humans," Says Ranka. "Why are you so upset?"
He looks up from his spot, on his knees in the dirt. "They aren't 'just
Humans,' Ranka. They're people like we are."
Ranka gives a brief scan of the wasted village and shrugs. "If you say so."
He forgets, sometimes, that most Full-Bloods think of Humans as no more than
pets or cattle.
His Mother, may her soul rest forever, certainly did. "You were almost married
to a Human."
"In a Clan that views men as second class."
And sometimes, Sho thinks the only good thing about Ranka is how tight she is
when she lies underneath him.
She's probably the only virgin among her female siblings.
"These people meant something to me," Sho says. Which makes them important to
you, too, He tries to imply.
She shrugs, walks past him into the destroyed village.
There's something hanging onto a wagon door, waving idly in the breeze.
He'd know that green and pink fabric anywhere. The door falls off its hinges,
clatters to the cobblestone, when Sho opens it.
He feels everything from regret to anger as he, with shaking hands, touches the
fabric of Megan's scarf.
Takes a moment to just breathe in her smell.
Ranka is looking at him as though he were crazy and he pulls back as if burned
when he realizes he's tarnishing Megan's scent with his tears.
Oh hell.
He shouldn't be crying about a woman he hasn't even seen for three years.
But some part of him had wanted to fix things between them.
He thought he had more time.
He always thinks he has more time.
But there's never enough.
He doesn't even realize he's sitting on the hard, stone road until Ranka is
standing over him.
"Why even bother having a baby if I'm married to you," He hears her mutter
under her breath.
"You could pretend to care."
"Then I'd be married to a Meat sack sympathizer and I'd be a liar."
"Ranka!"
"Okay!" She snaps. "I'm sorry, baby." Her voice goes up in pitch. "We'll buy
you a new set of meat sacks to entertain yourself with since I'm obviously
unworthy of your attention."
And for a moment, he thinks about marrying a second woman just to piss Ranka
off.
Until he looks around and notices dead guards. But few dead civilians.
Oh gods.
Please, not Nierka, Thinks Sho as he stands. You can do what you want to me. To
Ranka. But not Megan.
Ranka eyes him like she's privy to the prayer he's just sent up and he almost
wonders if he spoke it.
"You know I was lying, right?"
He licks his lips. "About?"
"Getting more Humans. This place is Tarshished." And by that, she means,
trashed, destroyed, unliveable. "You can't keep your pets here."
"They aren't pets, Ranka."
"Well you treat them like it. Bakubakk, you're crying over this worthless
little town and these worthless things you call 'people.'"
"Go home."
At Ranka's offended look, he says, "You're just going to bitch the whole time.
Go back to our den and I'll make it worth your while."
Ranka scowls. "Don't you dare let a Female meat sack bear your young or I swear
to Yinkya-"
"It isn't like that. They don't copulate with us anyway."
With skepticism ingrained her features, she turns and slips into the tree line.
He isn't even sure he'll be able to find them.
 
It takes him three days to find Bordeaux. Another two to find Megan.
Some of the Clan have joined him on his desperate hunt.
The brothels are destroyed, everyone but the courtesans and slave children are
put to death.
And when he kneels in front of Megan, she smells different. No longer as
nubile.
But heavy with Bordeaux's cub.
He gives them privacy as she cries into Bordeaux's shirt and he holds her
close.
Finally, Sho gathers his courage and holds out the scarf he's been using to
track them. "I would like you to be my retainers."
He can almost promise protection if they are in his shadow.
But Megan shakes her head, slowly takes the scarf from his hand and settles it
around her neck. "While we're grateful, we have to turn it down, Sho."
"Why?" He asks as gently as he can.
Her hands are soft when they alight over his. "Because we can't. It's just not
going to work out."
He manages a nod. And she smiles softly. "See you later, Sho."
The entire group of Humans begin their trek to wherever it is they intend to
go.
Sho feels his heart beating in his chest and is surprised it isn't in Megan's
hand anymore.
He's, strangely, his own person now.
And that's fine with him.
Ranka comes to stand beside him. "Idiot. I knew all of this was about a female
meat sack."
"I hate you."
"The feeling is mutual," She says. But there's no heat to it. "I'm pregnant."
"I know," He says. He can scent it now that his sinuses aren't clogged with
death and Megan.
"Then act like it," She says after a long, long silence.
When he turns to her, he thinks maybe he should kiss her. But he isn't sure if
she is happy, apathetic, or angry about his seed being sown.
She appears not to care either way.
"Are you still mad that Ruuka got pregnant before you?"
"She's worthless and yet..."
That would be a yes. "Don't think too much about it. It'll hurt the baby."
Ranka shrugs her shoulders. "I suppose so."
 
"I don't want this cub anymore," Says Ranka between contractions.
"Yeah? Get over it," Says Sho.
She glares, clenches his hand as she tries desperately to find a more
comfortable position.
Sho knows she won't.
When their little girl finally makes an appearance, she practically sags in
relief, ready for it to be over.
Until her body seizes up again. "No. No. No-Yinkya! Oh fuck!"
The boy Ranka grudgingly births is named Wen, Unforeseen.
Their daughter is called Ro, Sly.
Tand and his family visit throughout the next week while Ranka recovers. Sho
doesn't particularly trust Tand, so letting his Father-in-law get a lay of his
territory isn't really what Sho thinks is a good idea. Stopping them from
coming would be bad for relations.
And, until Ranka is strong again, he needs them.
Her elder brother already has three cubs. Ruuka has only one.
Not that it matters to them, really. But it reflects badly on Ranka, who
married her own kind and still couldn't produce cubs.
And Ranka has tried killing her sister over it, but Renjin has always been
formidable. Coming to Ruuka's defense during her pregnancy.
Fortunately, all of them know Renjin's power won't last forever.
Sho is ready for that. He and Tand both are ready for the Toko Clan to fall,
Sanchu having killed his mother, Renjin having told Tand to go to hell when he
found out who his daughter was marrying and went to retrieve her.
Tand hates being disrespected.
And this would be the second time Renjin has done it.
"You're thinking, again." Ranka sounds tired. Feeding their offspring is
exhausting. They alternate getting up to get the cubs in the night. Sho can't
wait until they're old enough to fend for themselves.
"I'm making plans," He says.
"Plotting if I'm not privy to it."
He leans over and kisses her on the temple then. She looks at him and tries not
to smile. His arm slides around her shoulders and she leans her head into the
crook of his neck.
And they just sit.
He likes it, being able to be with her without having to do anything.
He realizes that, in this moment, he doesn't have to over think or plot or
worry.
And with Ranka, albeit snarky, he can face whatever comes their way.
***** Unrelenting *****
Chapter Summary
     Sanchu is introduced
Chapter Notes
     I've, temporarily, hit writer's block. So this one has had some
     difficulty getting finished.
"No!" He yells.
The wagons that once held captive Humans are burning behind him, large wolves
with coats the color of blood are closing in around them.
The women are let be. But he and the other men are going to be put to death.
"No?" She asks, eye narrowed and lips thinned.
"This is wrong! You can't save our lives just to kill us!"
She tilts her head. "All gain stolen is mine to do with as I please."
His gaze darkens, expression grim. "And just how do you sleep at night?"
This question, he knows she's never been asked before. Her head tilts the
opposite direction. "I sleep the same as everyone else, I suppose."
He laughs at this. "With blood on your hands for no other reason than perverse
desire?"
Green eyes take him in, he can see curiosity. "Why is it that the only one who
is terrified of death is the one that baits it?"
The man runs a hand through dark, curly hair and says, "Because I refuse to go
out like I meant nothing. And if you're going to kill me, you better be
prepared to be haunted by me."
She quirks her lips at this, fingers the blades strapped to her thighs. "Step
forward. You're spared."
"I will not move until the other Humans are done the same kindness."
They stare at one another for a very, very long time.
And while she's made every Human male up to this point shrink back, this one
holds his chin up, shoulders squared.
It's been some time since she's had this feeling. "Very well. I will not kill
them."
The man steps out of the group and she beckons him near.
Once he's sitting in front of her, on the meek, it's fur the color of the red
dirt found in some places on the island, she raises her hand.
The men are slaughtered before him and he can do nothing. "You gave your word!"
"That I wouldn't kill them."
He attempts to get at her but is unable to really harm her at this angle. "You
bitch!"
Two groups go in two different directions. He never sees the women again.
When they arrive, he doesn't get off until she allows it.
He's fuming that she knows he won't run. Even though she gives him ample
opportunity. Like she wants him to run. And maybe he should.
But he won't without a plan.
"What do they call you?" She asks a few days later.
He doesn't look up from breakfast. "Glade."
She ponders it for awhile. "What's its meaning?"
"An open space in a forest."
She gives him such a strange look, he wonders if what she's eaten has made her
sick. "Why would your Clan call you that? It's an awful name."
"Oh?" Says Glade. "What do they call you?"
"Renjin. It means spilling blade."
It's Glade's turn to give her a look. "Why would they call you that?"
"It doesn't make sense to you?"
"No. People should give their children names that bless them. Not encourage
them to be serial killers."
Renjin chews her lip a moment. "Our names are blessings. It is hoped that we
live up to them. They wanted me to be able to do the things that were needed.
They called me Renjin."
He still doesn't seem to understand.
"I wish to call you Sanchu."
He quirks a brow at her. "And that means?"
"Unrelenting."
Glade laughs at that. "You feel that way about me, huh?"
Renjin shrugs, draws a strip of red cloth from her satchel. "There is one more
thing I want from you."
"There's always one more thing," He says.
She hands him a pair of gloves, on the back of them is a red crescent moon over
a black background. He thinks he's seen something similar on the back of her
neck, on the right side.
She's slow to take his left wrist, wraps one end over it and the other over her
own, the right one, before cutting it in the middle.
"What's all this about?" He asks.
"If you wear this, no one will hurt you."
He gets the feeling there's a little more than that, but she doesn't say
anything else.
 
"You're kidding, right?" Takka asks when she sees the Human trailing after her.
Renjin gives her a look but Takka doesn't relent. "You should be courting a
Male. Not a... A masculine Female that will do little more than-"
Renjin's expression is dark when she settles her hands over the pommel of her
knives.
They're the length of her thighs. He wonders how fast she is with them weighing
her down.
Takka makes an aggravated gesture. One with shoulders rolling and chin tossing
upwards slightly. "Fine."
 
Their crest is put over his left pectoral and he fights them at first,
eventually learns Renjin isn't playing with him when she holds him down. He
only has to look in her eyes once to know it's behave or regret it.
The women around him snicker and giggle and he thinks that maybe all the
legends are true.
 
To test how much pull he has on her, he pauses in his work and looks up at
Renjin. "You like me, don't you?"
She glances back at him, currently looking over a map hung up on the wall. And
he can, strangely, see it in her eyes.
She likes him a lot.
He shifts his eyes to the side. "Sorry to say, I like skinny women."
She isn't fat but she is certainly not that into keeping herself lean. Most of
the women here are pretty curvy or bulky with muscle.
Her shoulders tense.
He knows he's said something hurtful. "Long hair gets in my face."
 
He notices that she keeps her hair back in a bun after that.
She slims down too. Enough that Glade notices and just enough that she can
still push her Clan members around when they talk back to her.
"You know," He says one morning, knowing he's got her wrapped around his
fingers, "if you really liked me, you would let me free."
He's surprised when her face becomes deadpan. "I have been quite lenient with
you already."
He spends several minutes trying to deduce how he can achieve freedom. Finally,
he says, "If you won't prove your affections by uncaging me, then prove it by
having sex with me."
Her lips purse, eyebrows drawing together. "You Humans have such peculiar ways
of thinking," She says, voice barely above a whisper.
He knows she's attracted to him. But she also shies away from physical contact
with him.
Maybe she feels inadequate. Maybe she doesn't like to be touched.
And if that's the case, he's got her in checkmate.
She will want to prove it, want to impress him. Something she's been unable to
do.
If she were to release him, he'd slip away and never be found again.
And she knows this.
She stands, breathing slow and deep as she unfastens her top, it comes away
from the high collar that covers her throat.
The top, connected to the short skirt drops to the wood floor and Sanchu is
speechless.
She refuses to look at him as she draws a long string and her dark panties
drop.
Sanchu knows he's gaping.
Her bra drops, too.
Her eyes are closed when she eases the high collar that clings to her throat.
Her hair is still in a bun, she's still wearing that dark red fabric around her
wrist.
His eyes stay glued to her form as she sits upon the table before him, chin up,
still refusing to look at him.
She's not a siren.
But she isn't bad to look at either. She tenses when his hand settles onto her
knee.
Some part of him feels intense guilt that he's being so unkind.
The rest of him reasons that if he does her enough damage, she'll let him go.
 
Iiyo is burning holes into the back of his head. When he turns, dark eyes are
settled upon him. "You shouldn't ask her for things if you aren't willing to
give her anything in return."
Iiyo was Yomshee's lover. Is Liiya's father. Roxoi has laid claim to him.
He doesn't complain even though he's nearly three times her age.
Sanchu finds the whole arrangement disgusting.
"Isn't it enough that I'm not here of my own free will? I can't love her if she
won't give me the space to."
Iiyo's bites his lips together at one side. "You're manipulating her. Promising
love if she does this or that. Why don't you just simply admit that you aren't
attracted to her? That you never will be."
Sanchu actually does find Renjin mildly attractive now that he's able to see
her eyes, past her bulk and see the pleasant angles of her body past her
weapons. "Because she won't let me go."
Iiyo sighs.
 
He becomes her new travel companion.
She's an odd sort of quiet while they trek through her territory. He wonders
how she came into it.
The scenery changes, the trees thin out drastically, the grass grows nearly as
high as his chest. Part of him wonders why he's never been through his section.
The rest of him is anxious about picking up ticks. "Renjin?"
She doesn't acknowledge him, so he's shit-out-of-luck for getting his questions
answered. The entire field has a strange golden glow and the air feels crisper.
Renjin unhooks two flasks from her belt and tosses one to him. "Here. You're
going to need it after this."
He pauses to sniff it, realizes it's alcohol and looks up to see Renjin
drinking it like water. "Are you trying to get drunk?"
Renjin still doesn't look at him, rolls her shoulders. "It's definitely on my
to-do list."
A man, garb like that of Renjin's battle gear down to the bare chest with a red
fur pelt as a scant vest, wrapping around his shoulders and covering his back,
comes striding up from Sanchu's flank. Sanchu nearly leaps from his skin when
he appears, having never heard him coming.
The man snatches Renjin's flask from her hand. "Really, child. Do you still
have so little self control?" He's a big, big man and Sanchu is surprised. Iiyo
is about the same size but would never dare to speak to Renjin like that. No
one does.
Sanchu is further surprised when he swigs from the stolen flask.
Her voice sounds mildly flat when she says, "Spirits shouldn't drink."
"I don't feel the effects. My body-"
"Or lack of thereof," Says Renjin.
"-Isn't damaged by it."
Sanchu is really starting to get weirded out by this conversation.
A woman strides out of the forest far to their right. She glances back at
Sanchu and scowls. "Really, Jinny? A Human?"
"I agree," Says the man. "When I gave you clear instructions on whom to marry,
this wasn't really what I meant."
"I'm right here," Says Sanchu.
The woman turns, skin the color of snow, holes for eyes and a folding mouth,
and begins a blood-curdling scream before Renjin grabs her elbow. "Anaya.
Enough."
Sanchu is shivering, but not because of the mild chill of the air.
She turns back to Renjin. "My gods, little sister. I know you can do better."
"What in the hell do you two want?"
The man looks mildly hurt. "Renjin."
She glances at him. "Out with it, Jezreel. I'm already worn down and I really
can't handle encounters with you as it is."
Sanchu thinks the liquor in his hand is a good idea right about now.
"You need an heir."
"My heir," Says Anaya.
Jezreel scowls. "Renjin. I need you to listen to my advice, on this."
"Wait. Wait. You two." Renjin's arms draw close to her sides, wrists against
her hips and elbows back as if wings, palms to the sky. "An heir? What the hell
are you restless spirits going on about?"
The man runs a hand through his hair. "You've mated yourself to a Human. And
after what was done to you, your chances of bearing cubs are so, so low,
Renjin."
"Maybe I don't want cubs," Renjin says peevishly.
Jezreel rolls his shoulders. "Don't get snotty with me, little lady."
"Mated?" Asks Sanchu. "I haven't met any Humans while I've been in her tribe."
Both spirits turn to him. "Idiot."
"Now," Says Anaya. "There's a boy in the North-"
"The North? I'd have to travel quite a ways-"
"Shut up!" Snaps the woman.
And suddenly, both spirits are talking at each other over Renjin's head. It's
weird to see two people have any control over Renjin.
He pops the lid on his canteen and downs it.
She rubs her temples as their spat reaches fever pitch. "Enough!" She shouts at
them.
They both back away a few steps from her in surprise.
The woman snarls. "Don't you dare speak to me like that, you little bitch."
The man shakes himself out. "I'm sorry, Ren. This is really important to me."
Renjin looks at him, shoulders sloped. "Go on, then."
"Triska had a daughter." She perks at this. "I couldn't convince her not to..."
His voice trails off. "But she's alive. I need you to find her. She's bright,
with both of my forms. You can make a good, worthy disciple of her."
"My boy is better," Says Anaya. "But his life is on a time clock."
"Okay," Says Renjin. "Where is the girl?"
Anaya fumes beside her.
"To the west."
Renjin folds her arms. "How long does the boy have?"
Anaya flips her hair. "A week."
Renjin frowns. "I will only have a few days to find him before his death."
"Then he takes priority."
Renjin sighs. "She's got a point."
The big man sighs. "Please just be sure to see her."
Renjin promises before turning to look at the woman. "Your fatality is
showing."
She glances down and sighs. Blood is spreading outwards on her shirt. "Well
damn."
 
She's pensive when they enter the small town in a territory he knows isn't
hers.
Walking by a tavern, she turns her face to the window but doesn't stop.
There's a group sitting around a table, talking and playing cards.
One of the men facing the window looks up, shock overtaking his features.
They continue to the center, a park, and Renjin settles onto the bench. Sanchu
stands, watches her. "What are we doing?"
"Waiting."
The man from the tavern saunters over and Renjin stands. He's taller than she
is, too.
"Minnow," He says.
She nods. "Chante."
Sanchu cocks his head. "Minnow? She doesn't even-"
They both glance at him and he snaps his mouth shut.
"I'm looking for someone specific," She tells him. "And I know you are able to
be of service."
Sanchu watches Chante and Renjin stare at each other.
Finally, Chante rubs the back of his neck. "What can we do for you?"
"There's a girl named Sven. I know Kiren and Ehao know her." His mouth opens
and closes for a moment. "I haven't seen Ehao in forever. Do you know how they
know her?"
Renjin glances to the left, long eyelashes lowered. They stand in silence for
what feels like forever to Sanchu. Her eyes flicker back to Chante.
He tilts his head, raises his shoulders. "I'll ask Kiren,"
In the time it takes for Sanchu to blink, Renjin's hand is on his chest,
sending him backwards. "Move."
"Who do you think you-"
A woman with dark hair and caramel skin drops from the rooftop, swiping at
Renjin with long, claw-like knives attached to her knuckles by bands wrapped
around her palm and wrist.
Renjin draws the right knife strapped to her thigh and points it upwards,
vaguely in the woman's direction. "You're finished."
The woman glares with enough heat that, if looks could kill, Renjin would be
dead five times over. "Don't you dare turn those against me."
"Don't make me."
Chante steps between them. "Our wounds are much too fresh right now. We need
you to leave. The fastest way home is near the old Tower."
Renjin doesn't retreat, even Sanchu can tell she's simply leaving. Her stride
is slow but timely.
Sanchu has a hard time keeping up with her. "So, when are we going to talk
about this whole 'Mate' thing?"
She glances at him. "Later. And don't touch that." Her hand clamps down on his
right wrist as he tries to untie the fabric on the opposite one.
He scowls. "Who are all these people, Renjin?"
"Do you ever stop talking?"
"I'm a lot quieter when I'm free."
She looks like she might hit him before turning back to the trail.
Which surprises Sanchu. She's never hesitated to lay hands on him before.
At the Old Tower, they wait again.
A woman with dark blue hair appears, Chante beside her.
"You're looking for Sven?"
Renjin folds her arms, nods. Kiren sighs. "I was wondering who would eventually
come to claim her."
"Claim?" Asks Sanchu.
Kiren turns and they begin their journey. They pretty much ignore the Human in
the group. It's maddening to Sanchu.
"How old are you this Summer, Minnow?" Asks Kiren.
"Eighteen."
"Wait," Says Sanchu. "Aren't you a little young to be ransacking villages and
unsuspecting caravans?"
Renjin gives him a peeved look. "People younger than me 'ransack' at least two
villages a week. And you can be more grateful. You were going to a brothel."
"But I'm not pretty," Says Sanchu.
"It's the curls," Says Kiren. "People like them."
Sanchu has never thought much of his dark, curly hair before, other than the
times he tried to brush it.
As it turns out, Sven is one of many concubines that belong to a rich Clan
leader.
The Clan is big and Sanchu is nervous to see such a big task undertaken.
"Are you sure about this?" Asks Sanchu.
Renjin just puts her hand over his mouth and they ease in to enemy camp.
Sanchu should have opted to stay behind. His night vision is utter crap.
They can see everything, but he's stuck in the dark.
So when he knocks into their glass chimes and creates a racket, he curses
Renjin under his breath.
He doesn't have long though, because the wretched woman is grabbing him by the
scruff and they're racing for cover.
Chante starts spilling blood like water. He can see Renjin defending him in the
low torch light.
Kiren streaks past him with a screaming, fighting bundle. Renjin manhandles
Sanchu out of the camp and Chante brings up the rear, defending them from
anyone else who follows.
Finally, under the light of the full moon, Sanchu gets a vague glimpse of Sven.
She's got blonde hair kept short, almost white eyes.
She can't be older than five. Disgust surges in Sanchu's guts. "It's true then.
Even your children aren't safe from you."
This time, Renjin does lay hands on him. He never sees the slap coming. But he
does expect the blows after, and even the rough nudge of her foot in his ribs.
Sven makes fearful noises behind her but neither Chante nor Kiren intervene on
Sanchu's behalf.
He knows she's done when she wipes the blood of slain men onto him, knowing how
he feels about killing.
"What's the plan?" Asks Chante.
"I will take her home with me to be rehabilitated." Renjin's voice is calm.
Like she didn't just beat down her partner.
Chante pauses. "I think Sven needs to be somewhere with a stronger father
figure."
All three of them look at Sanchu. He thinks about what he's going to do to
Renjin when she's under his hands next.
"No," Says Renjin. "I promised I would take her. I can't hand off the
responsibility to anyone else."
 
Chante and Kiren escort the trio back to Renjin's Territory.
Sven is shaking like a leaf, pulling away when Renjin strokes her hair.
Half of the Clan travels with her when they go to the North to find Anaya's
choice.
Sven is quiet for a long time.
When they stop, Sanchu is the one that offers her snacks and sweets.
It takes a few days for her to willingly take the candy from his hand before
darting to the other side of camp to eat it.
It's the third time he's done it when he looks up and sees Renjin watching
them, expression conflicted.
"Well? Are you going to say something?" He asks.
Renjin looks away. "You're grooming her."
Sanchu shakes his head. "She's scared. She needs to be able to trust someone.
I'm the easiest to perceive as harmless."
"Your Humanity is useful after all."
He smiles.
"But I swear. If you ever touch her, I'll make you regret it."
And Sanchu realizes that there might be a reason for Renjin's inconsistencies.
He debates on whether or not he should ask. "Did someone groom you?"
She slips into her tent without a word.
Sanchu realizes that Renjin has more depth than mere violence and control.
Sven doesn't speak. He thinks all the trauma has made her mute.
They're only a day's journey from Anaya's target and they've stopped at an inn
because everyone is dirty and tired.
Sanchu and Sven are sitting at a table, waiting on Renjin to get back. Sven is
coloring something Sanchu has drawn for her. It's been a little over a year
since he's actually done any painting and he sort of misses it.
"You draw pretty," She says so quietly, he almost misses that, too.
"Thank you, Sven."
Her smile is shy, nervous. Like maybe she wants to please him but she's scared
of what that will entail.
"You should try drawing something," Says Sanchu. He eases another piece of old
parchment from his travel bag and settles it on the table.
She looks at him with wonder. "Really?"
He nods. "Go ahead."
"Will you color mine?"
"You can color it if you like."
Sven spends hours in Sanchu's company. He finds he likes it. It takes the
lonely edge off of everything.
Renjin gets anxious if they're ever alone so he's always sure to be in plain
sight of the Clan.
He gets the feeling that he isn't allowed to have sex with anyone but Renjin
anyway.
It's been at least a month since he's lain with that woman. He intends to
change that once they've both showered.
He doesn't know where Sven will be settled though.
Takka, seemingly aware of his intent, takes Sven to her own room.
He can appreciate her for her intuition. But there's something about her that
sets him on edge.
He doesn't bother with overthinking it. Renjin's sweet body awaits him.
Sort of.
It's a matter of seducing her, he knows. And seducing that woman is akin to
charming a rattlesnake.
She's picky about what positions he takes her in and he wonders (even though he
tries not to) what event she thinks of when she's in them.
Is it a fond memory or a painful one that plays when she's in a position she
hates?
She isn't worried about him spilling his seed either, never has been.
He thinks that she's barren and just hasn't told him yet.
The boy is dead when they arrive. They know because there are bodies of Full
Bloods and young, Human men, strung along the path and the dirt and in many,
many places.
 
Renjin is busy in the months afterward, Sanchu doesn't know what she's planning
but he's willing to be of service.
Her hands are gentle but firm when she trains young Sven. The girl craves
acceptance and Sanchu gradually realizes that Humans and Full Bloods aren't as
different as he believed.
This girl needs people to look up to.
"So where were you before this?" He asks Takka while they're sitting at the
table, waiting on Renjin to finish Sven's training for the day.
Takka is quiet for awhile. "Playing mommy to a few lost little girls."
He's surprised. "I guess you have a natural maternal thing going on. What
happened to them?"
"Chiikets."
Sanchu has briefly heard of Chiikets. Renjin had said his name meant Slayer of
Men. Sanchu always pictured him as a hardened, unattractive, terrifying man.
"Did he kill them?"
"No," Says Takka. "He kidnapped them. Made the youngest girl his wife."
And while Sanchu has a gut-deep feeling that Takka isn't telling the whole
story, Renjin doesn't speak well of Chiikets when she does speak of him, which
is rare.
But there's one thing he doesn't understand. "Why did they never come back to
you?"
"He brainwashed them. Like Renjin has done to you. That's why they didn't run."
He can already feel the seed she's planted in his head. Almost deliberately.
Certainly deliberately.
That aside, why didn't he run as soon as he knew he could?
It isn't fear, he can tell that. But what is it?
Is it desire? Simple need easily achieved by objectification?
Then the question becomes: Does he see her as a person or a thing for his
pleasure?
Renjin hasn't freed him, merely lengthened his leash.
He's disturbed to find he's okay with that.
 
The next time they have sex, he tries to find her pleasure, too.
But it's scarce and she, as it appears, doesn't like sex in any form. He wants
to ask but thinks better of it considering he can rarely get any sort of hints
about her past as it is.
He takes her on her knees and she swats his hand any time it strays to close to
the junction of her thighs.
He's surprised every time, too. Left to wonder why she's so resistant to the
idea.
She doesn't mind her breasts being touched, hates his hand drawing near her
clit.
 
He doesn't know how she knows where the boy has been lain but he suspects it's
one of the spirits that approached them so long ago.
The magick Renjin performs has to be part of it, too.
They're ready for Renjin to bring the boy out of the dirt.
Her eyes take an ethereal glow and the wind starts shifting, it takes a
Tarshish or two to really get it started.
At first, people are vaguely uncomfortable. Sanchu feels a burn in his sinuses.
Then Takka drops to the earth and screams, others begin to do the same and
Sanchu thinks they deserve it until his throat starts to constrict and burn at
the same time. Even Renjin is vaguely fazed.
Sanchu looks up in time to see Full Bloods killing each other in horrible,
awful ways, their remains spread in the dirt.
It's gruesome and he thinks that he is grateful to have been out of it. Some of
them arch and writhe and scream before dropping to the grass.
It feels like forever before the pain lets up. Takka is panting and blood is
spattered over her midsection and thighs.
Renjin is shivering, looking more exhausted than he's ever seen her.
"What the hell?" Sanchu tries to say. But nothing comes out.
Renjin glances at him and he tries to say, "What the fuck just happened?" But
only the unnerving sound of air leaving his windpipe reaches his ears.
She stands shakily, steps over to him. The ground has opened up in the center.
He's thankful Sven is safe with Iiyo.
"Sanchu?"
He tries and tries and tries til he's screaming at her. Accusing her of having
planned this.
Renjin watches him intently, unable to understand him.
Finally, he draws in the dirt, What have you done?
Renjin, looking like she might actually cry, says. "Something I shouldn't
have."
The Full-Bloods and Skin-Walkers that survived the insanity that just occurred
peer into the hole, muttering amongst themselves.
Roxoi is trembling. "You've murdered us!"
Renjin only manages to say, "I had no intention of it."
Roxoi is taking her animal form then, full of rage and vengeance.
"Now is not the time, Roxoi," Says Iiyo. Sven is cowering behind him.
"Begin laying to rest our dead," Says Renjin. "Takka?"
She sounds faint when she says. "Renjin?"
"Are you well enough to take Sanchu with you?"
Takka, still breathless, nods. Struggles to stand. Her hair alternates between
long and curly and chin-length and straight.
Renjin has known for a long time that Takka isn't who she allows people to
believe she is. (But she never openly tells a lie. Simply omits here and there
and lets one try to connect the dots. Renjin knows she'll never draw the right
conclusion.)
Sanchu draws in the dirt, Did you know this would happen?
Renjin takes a moment before rolling her shoulders. "Not particularly. Anaya's
the one that told me of it, so I was prepared for something to go wrong. But
not like this."
He glares at her then. Writes, Every time I start to care about you, you do
something crazy!
Renjin, choosing now of all times to be immune to him says, "I should have made
you a Yona."
He's surprised at this, Renjin glances at him, runs her palms over the pommels
of her knives. "At least then, I could have shamelessly taken Xerxes on his
offer."
And Sanchu feels the stirring of an unfamiliar emotion at the idea. "He can't
have you." Tries to pour from his throat.
And at Renjin's look, he viciously writes it out with sharp strokes to the
innocent earth.
"Why? It weren't as though you want me."
Sanchu fingers the hard wood of the bow slung over his shoulder.
It'd be easier, He writes, if you would tell me how to please you.
Renjin's guard drops for a split second. It's the first time he's ever seen
Renjin open in the last two and a half years. She's even closed off to him
during sex. (Especially since she avoids him during the Fall.)
"Go," Says Renjin. "We'll talk about it later."
 
Sven and the boy have nothing in common. Their age difference is substantial,
too.
So Renjin appoints Sven to Iiyo, who can teach her both ways of her father.
Full-Blood and Skin-Walker.
Much to Sanchu's surprise, Iiyo comes from the Clan led by Renjin's brother.
Exiled because of the affair he'd had with Yomshee.
He expects Renjin to begin avoiding him due to the Fall Season as she always
does. Instead, she grudgingly teaches him about her secret places. All the ways
she likes to be touched.
He finds it strangely erotic.
After that, she admits that she's been training him to be a proper Mate for the
last two, almost three, years.
That doesn't surprise him. Not at all.
He's been able to come to terms with the fact that Renjin isn't planning on
letting him go.
And the way she looks when she sleeps, when he's found a sweet spot, when she
smiles at something she finds particularly funny, stirs something inside.
He's mad, he thinks. He's mad he didn't choose this. Mad about being mute, and
lost, and wrapped up six ways to Sunday in this life he knows little about.
He's mad she made him love her.
***** Brother Against Brother *****
Chapter Summary
     Orro has never believed in "An eye for an eye"
     Until now.
Keteer and Noyek have been friends for some time.
Danshu is fun but she sometimes says things that make the hair on the back of
Keteer's neck stand on end.
She and Songil had gone to spend some time with the family, even if Haunku
hated the idea. The twins aren't home but Itan invites them in to wait for the
girls.
And while Songil hesitates, Keteer thinks nothing of it.
Itan is friendly and cousins with Sorajin who, even in war, is kind to people.
He offers them tea that Songil politely turns down and Keteer accepts. "How's
Jyon?"
"He's good. Recovering pretty well." Jyon has a severe bleeding condition. Not
to mention he had some other blood disorders that made it hard in general.
They had an awful scare last month in which Jyon cut himself accidentally and
it ended up a horrible mess.
Keteer has never seen her Uncle like that.
"I'm glad to hear it," Says Itan. Songil doubts he really cares.
At some point, Keteer starts to feel faint.
"Are you okay?" Asks Itan.
Her world grows bleary and dark.
When she wakes, she knows something has gone wrong. There's something sticky on
her thighs and her lower belly aches in a strange way.
Rolling over brings her Itan.
Oh no. This isn't right, She thinks.
Itan's fingers in her hair make her stomach turn. "Are you well, Keteer?"
She slaps his hand away. "You drugged me!"
At his perplexed expression, she backs out of the Human-styled bed.
"Keteer, you weren't this hostile this morning."
She scowls. "I wasn't sober this morning."
He sits up and she bares her teeth.
She staggers out of the house barely clothed, Itan following, trying to reason
with her.
She refuses to hear it. He grabs her elbow when they're both on the porch and
she tries to shake him off. "Don't touch me!"
"Keteer. I-"
"If you don't let me go right now, everybody is going to know what you did."
His hands instantly release her. "It's not as though you were a virgin in the
first place." Who would believe you? His tone says.
Keteer can feel herself tearing up. She'd been lost while her parents were
separating, but it'd only been one man. She isn't a whore.
She isn't. "Go to hell, Itan."
At his hurt expression, she turns on her heel and storms off the property.
"I thought you wanted me," He calls after her. Keteer doesn't acknowledge he
spoke.
 
Orro shows up a few days later but Itan has made himself scarce.
When asked, Danshu shrugs, she's too busy taking care of her other siblings to
watch her elder brother.
He snags Noyek when he catches her trying to sneak past him. "Where is he?"
Noyek bites her lip and won't make eye contact.
"Okay," He says. "Better question. What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you
supposed to be at a holy temple atoning for your sin, or some shit?"
She still says nothing and he gives her a rough shake. "I'm not playing."
"I'm sorry," She says.
They stand there for several long seconds before he makes a decision.
He throws her arm up, tilts forward and when he's at his full height, Noyek's
hips dig painful into his shoulder. She squirms and kicks. "Stop! Stop!"
"I said I wasn't playing."
Danshu comes running from the sitting room. "What are you doing, Quich?"
Orro turns to her and she backs up a step. He feels bad crossing them with the
title they've given him. As Quich, he's their honorary big brother. The one
they can rely on when Itan is away.
But that's over now.
"Getting his attention."
Danshu, already wild-eyed, comes between him and the door. "You don't have to
do this."
"Don't make me get ugly, Danshu."
"You're already ugly!" Cries Noyek, still kicking and swearing and screaming.
He rolls his eyes and pushes the older twin aside. "You tell him that it's only
going to get worse until he faces me. He can't act like this and expect me to
do nothing."
 
When he arrives home, Keteer is still curled up in his bedding, still
miserable.
Noyek bites him and tries to make a run for it the moment she's settled onto
her feet. He grabs her by the hair and yanks and she screams, nails scrabbling
at his wrist.
He shoves her face down onto the couch, stuffed with something almost-
comfortable covered in itchy upholstery. The cushions are wide enough for her
to struggle against him without falling as he ties her wrists and ankles
together.
He stays straddling her for a minute and she sobs into the fabric. Some part of
him feels pity.
He buries it as he divests Noyek of her clothes, runs his hands over her bare
skin as she writhes.
He moves her to the shed before his Mother gets home.
His Mother and Itan's were Pack once. He wonders why they aren't anymore.
"What if I have to piss?" Asks Noyek. Her eye make-up has started running and
her hands are tied to a hook dangling from a beam overhead.
"Hold it til I get back," He says.
"No. No, no- Please don't leave me."
Orro rolls his eyes. "Nobody knows you're here but I. You're safe." Until I
return, He doesn't say.
 
When Itan and Monavere come to get her, she's mad at him. "What did you do to
Quich?"
Itan rolls his shoulders. "I gave his sister pleasure."
Noyek knows she's crying, but only because of the wet that streaks down her
face. "You promised that Niiniai would be the only girl you'd have aside from
me."
"She seduced me, Noyek. I was weak. I'm sorry."
She turns away, touches her chin to her shoulder, when he goes to kiss her.
"Have no more to do with me."
"Noyek-"
"Orro is planning to make a woman out of me. I'm going to let him."
Itan clenches his jaw. "You can't."
She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "I will. Our Estarred was right.
We never should have-" She yelps when his hand collides with her face.
"He isn't. And he never will be."
"Face it, Ess'en. Our Cousin and friends have said it's wrong. You say it's
okay but you can't even marry me."
He opens his mouth then shuts it.
Monavere watches with unnatural stoicism. Narrowed, yellow eyes bouncing
between them.
Itan cuts Noyek free. "You've told people."
"I needed somebody to talk to!"
"And you couldn't have spoken to me?"
Noyek brushes past him, Monavere is silent for another moment. "It isn't as
though I really understand anything but my own kind. This aside, don't you
feel," Monavere licks his lips, "anything? Guilt? Shame?"
Itan is baleful when he turns to the Skin-Walker. "Don't talk if you don't know
anything."
"We share the same values. The only things that are universally different are
our outsides. We, you Full-Bloods, and the Humans frown upon marrying blood."
"But we won't kill over it."
"Maybe we should," Says Monavere. His threat isn't as subtle as he had hoped
for. But subtlety is lost, frequently, on Itan. "Your Uncle loved his twin in
ways he ought'nt have. Families are destroyed over it."
"Ours isn't."
"But Noyek is. Her views of family were blurred enough because of Ralom."
You've made it worse, Monavere hopes Itan hears.
Before Itan can reply, Monavere takes his leave, following the girl down the
trail.
 
Orro and Jyon debate on what should be done.
Haunku is angry enough to go to war but Jyon isn't ready.
He wouldn't be able to go, anyways. He'd be too easy to kill with his bleeding
habits.
Anju is more than ready to go after Rozolyn's life.
Both Keteer and Hal play intercessors for Danshu and the other siblings.
After a long, drawn out family debate, they decide killing Rozolyn and Itan,
then melding the Clans is the best conclusion they can come to so that minimal
blood will be spilled.
"I've got some news," Says Orro as he steps into the shed.
He thinks nothing of it when she doesn't reply.
Until he looks up from his scroll and finds the shed empty.
A board cracks, another goes flying with Orro's anger. "Fuck!"
Two days later, Noyek has been accused of murdering, at least, two people and
is reported to be on the run from Hunters. People who are in charge of justice
in their own Clans
Orro knows Itan has something to do with it.
He prays she's found safety.
***** The Rise and Fall of A Nation *****
Chapter Summary
     Shusho, although a behind-the-scenes player, is still one to
     acknowledge...
Chapter Notes
     Did anybody else have an issue with the site last night?
     Anyway, after forever, here's your next chapter.
     This island is a really small world, isn't it? Haha
When he first meets her, they call her Lillith the Whore.
He doesn't find that name very friendly.
But Shusho the Dimwit is no better, he thinks.
Even if it keeps the Jeakon from knowing the truth. What he's capable of.
And he's already discovered he's capable of so much.
Tvis is too anxious try out his gifts. Pandora doesn't appear to have any to
speak of.
Lillith, the Jeakon's favorite, is beginning to be overlooked by everyone.
Including Tvis, who is supposed to be her mate.
He likes that Pandora doesn't crave the attention Lillith does.
And the Jeakon, all of them smaller in stature, in white coats and all sorts of
fascinating devices Shusho has grown up having used on him, turn their
attention to sweet, young, Mara.
An innocent, eager to please, Tarshish. They pry her legs open like hungry
animals and ignore an all-too-willing Lillith.
 
"You should give it up," He tells her.
She's sitting curled up in the Human-styled bed they gave her. Everyone else
sleeps in piles of stuffed blankets. Not because they have to, but because
after awhile, acting like Jeakon - pretending to be Jeakon - freaks them out.
Her hands cover her face and he can smell her tears. She shakes her head. "I
don't want to be forgotten, Shusho. I don't want it."
There's nothing he can say to assuage her.
 
Tvis chooses Pandora over Lillith in the Summer.
She refuses to eat after that, every attempt is brushed off.
 
Mara has started to cry when they make her take off her clothes before them.
Shusho hates it. Wants to do something, anything.
And he feels relief when Lillith slips in, already unclothed.
She touches the shoulder of one of the Jeakon and he shrugs her off.
"Take me," She says. "I want it."
One of them looks up a her then, "You're used goods."
Lillith is quiet for a split second. "But I know what feels good."
They go back to ignoring her and she clenches her fists. "I'm good! You said I
was your good girl! Your best-"
"What a child," A man says between grunts, over Mara's sobs. "Should have named
her Madonna."
They laugh at that.
Lillith looks truly hurt. "Look at me," She says. "Look at me!"
Her voice rises in volume the second time and another looks up at her. "Get the
hell out, slut. Your body isn't good anymore. You're worthless to us."
Lillith is speechless.
Shusho goes to put a hand on her but she hits one of them. Throws another into
the wall.
"Hey!"
They break out the tasers and send Lillith to the floor, convulsing and
screaming.
The next thing Shusho is aware of, the men are exploding, blood splattering the
walls while they scream, too.
But he never had the ability to do that.
Not once.
He knows because he's tried.
Lillith stands, gasping and sniffling. Mara is dead.
Shusho feels awful.
The Jeakon appear then, handcuffing Lillith and Shusho.
Shusho goes peacefully. Lillith goes screaming both obscenities and apologies.
When she's sedated, they talk, in hushed voices about putting her down. Shusho
knows what that means. Has seen them do it to very, very sick Full-Bloods and
half-dead Tarshish. Not to mention failed experiments.
And he thinks, maybe Lillith needs that.
She's tainted, after all. Ruined by these men in white coats and groping
fingers.
"What say you, Tarshish?" A woman asks him.
"They were raping Mara," Is all he says. He'll let them think what they want.
For Lillith's sake and the cleanliness of his hands.
Days are spent in discussion over it, people are questioned.
Tensions become strained between Haekon and Aakon.
An Aakon girl is raped and the Haekon are blamed for it. Someone murders a
Haekon and things get worse.
Shusho tries to keep things level.
Lillith awakes and they let her live.
She kills Dajyon and becomes head of the Full-Bloods, The Haekon.
Shusho is thought of as a protector. A strong, good man. He becomes the leader
of the Aakon, The Tarshish.
No killing is necessary.
Lillith's people begin pushing his around, shamelessly.
"We can work things out, Lillith," He says to her after witnessing one of his
young men being beaten.
It's terrifying to Shusho because their bones are light like those of birds.
Their agility is far, far more than a Haekon's, but there's a price they have
to pay for that.
Shusho wonders if it was on purpose...
Iijin, a Monkon, can kill a Pack of Haekon. A Haekon could kill a Flock of
Aakon. But the Jeakon are at the top. And everyone was forced to accept that.
Iijin is always tired, though. Always in his other form, he doesn't care one
way or another about the disagreements between Races.
Shusho doesn't care for him.
"I want to marry Lillith," He tells the Jeakon. "She needs some one to love
her- She's been through so much."
And both he and the Jeakon have ulterior motives for it.
Lillith upon realizing she's being married to yet another man without her
consent, tries to escape the dome they've been raised in.
They lose two women and their favoured experiment.
Shusho follows her. "Lillith."
She ignores him. "Lillith! You have to come back!"
"The Jeakon are going to put me down!" She cries. "I've killed two of them!"
"Then let's tell them you're pregnant with Tvis' child."
She freezes at that. "What?"
And this is where Shusho's gift has come into its purpose.
He knows something that Lillith doesn't.
"We'll lie to them to keep you alive. And in the mean time, we'll do our
damnedest to get them that baby we promised them."
So they lie, tell the Humans- the Jeakon. That Lillith was scared for her
offspring's safety, that she thought Shusho would kill it. Shusho is collared,
programmed to tase him in the event he creates distress in Lillith.
His marriage to Lillith, instead of unifying as he planned, creates a split in
both Clans.
 
It's a struggle to get Lillith on the table, strapping her down is harder.
Shusho stands in the room, docile and quiet.
She spits obscenities at them as they come near her with equipment Shusho has
never seen before.
The screen beside them comes to life and Shusho jumps.
"There," Says the Jeakon with the equipment. "Your baby wasn't hard to find at
all."
Lillith's eyes flick to Shusho, confusion twisting her features. He shrugs,
feigns surprise and stupidity as the Humans fuss over her.
When an attempt is witnessed on Lillith's life, (There were many. This was just
the time that Humans noticed,) she's moved to a more secure place for the
remainder of her pregnancy.
And, as it turns out, the baby is half Human.
There's horror and awe that something like this has happened.
Shusho can tell the Humans are bewildered.
They name the child Able. Tvis and Pandora have a daughter named Yhi.
Lillith despises them and, as he grows, the boy does, too.
Shusho cannot curb the embers of hatred in Able.
Tvis is made head of the side of the Clan that despises Tarshish.
And the hatred between Lillith and Tvis grows utterly out of Shusho's control.
 
Able lures Yhi out to an unoccupied space in the dome and rapes her.
When she's found beaten and mourning, Shusho knows what's been done.
Able shrugs off all questioning, says he left her there when she wouldn't talk
her father into stepping down.
But Shusho knows the truth. The boy has the same look in his eyes that the men
who used Lillith, raped Mara, had.
He can't allow Able to do wrong again.
 
He and Able are picking herbs for their healer-in-training. "I wish you would
admit to what you did."
"I didn't do it. I just want to be at peace with them." But his tone makes him
sound as though he doesn't care one way or another about peace.
Shusho takes a shuddering breath and prepares himself. Able cries out when he
hits the solid ground, screams when Shusho straddles him.
"Dad! Dad, no! S-stop!"
Shusho is sure to give the boy a quick death.
He rolls off of Able when he's gone still, lies in the dirt beside him and
tries to quiet his hitching breath. A glance at the adolescent beside him has
him pounding his fist into the dirt in grief and agony.
He couldn't let Able hurt another girl.
 
The Humans have mostly backed off. They watch their creations with wonder.
Shusho despises them.
When he brings Able home, Lillith, at first, stares at him in silence.
He is sure to look her in the eyes. He knows his own eyes carry murder in them.
They always will.
He helps her bury Able in a pseudo-dusk the dome creates. She curls up in bed,
unable to do anything for days. Shusho picks up the slack.
When Lillith misscarries, it leaves them both clinging to life.
Shusho had loved Able - still does. And he and Lillith had begun to really work
things out, she'd allowed him to make love to her during the Summer. The
manifestation of that is gone.
He's destroyed his family. Wracked with guilt and grief, he turns Lillith over
to a competing Haekon. Then he returns to his Tribe.
But they despise him, too, for trying to make peace with the enemy.
The Haekon start hunting him and the Aakon chase him out. The Monkon allow him
to stay on their side of the dome, but not amongst them.
He manages.
 
The Jeakon are slaughtered, many of them have run out into the island. Shusho
doesn't think they'll survive very long.
 
He's hunting a meek when he feels her approaching, hunkering down and expecting
her to pass by.
He sees stars when something collides with the side of his head. He knows it's
her because anyone else would have accidentally killed him.
She shoves him into the dirt and her fist collides with his face again and
again.
His hunting knife finds her thigh and in her pain and shock, he shoves her off
and runs.
He ducks into a cave and makes an aggravated sound. He doesn't want to fight
Lillith. Never has. But she's sorely regretting the first time she spared him.
He throws himself to the left when she appears behind him, scrambling further
into the cave. She tackles him and they grapple, their struggle echoing around
them.
He plunges the knife down and she kicks him off of her. The cave wall he
collides with crumbles.
And then he's falling.
Backlit and silhouetted, Lillith watches him die.
 
When he wakes, there are people watching him.
"You fell a long way, Mister," Says a woman.
Shusho aches. He thirsts and has an overwhelming hunger.
"How long has it been since the Humans were killed?"
They pause, talk amongst themselves. The woman says, "Ten years."
That makes no sense. It'd been only a year after their demise that he met
Lillith and fell.
"You've had a barrier around you until now. We thought you were dead."
Shusho does feel drained. "I see." He returns to their Tribe until he's strong
enough to travel.
The Full-Bloods, surprisingly, ignore or tolerate the Tarshish.
Shusho finds all of this very surreal.
 
King Sonere rises forty years after the fall of the Humans. He claims that the
other Races should have their own Territories, too.
And while he is King over Tarshish, Full-Blood and Skin-Walker, things are
quiet. The people are monogamous with big families. Inji houses are built so
women and men coming into adulthood have a chance of helping their families out
of poverty.
Shusho is amazed.
This goes on for a short ten years. He's allowed his brother to have a
Monastery in the south, Sonere's pregnant daughter is sent there.
He sends a woman named Lillian to the West and a man named Monavere, to the
East.
Shusho knows Lillian isn't what she claims to be.
Kuden is born, people rejoice almost as much as the Royal Family.
 
Five years later, Kenjin seizes power with Shura, the love-child of a man
leading a rebellion and a woman who worked in a tavern.
No one knows anything of Kenjin with the exception that he loves Shura, covets
her like gold.
He slays King Sonere during a festival and in the shocked silence, proclaims
that there is a new Royal Family.
Sonere's wife is slain at a banquet, in front of everyone, two weeks later.
And while the general populace liked Kenjin when he was a charismatic leader of
a faction that didn't want a woman leader. They hate him now.
He allows brothels to be built. Claims Tarshish are the enemy and should be
exterminated.
Shusho and what's left of the Royal Family sneak the Tarshish to the cliffs, a
place every married Female, accompanied by two unmarried Females - called Boten
- would go to give birth. It's a safe place, really. Difficult to maneuver but
easy for any healthy Tarshish.
With Shusho's help, they learn about their gifts and hold off Kenjin's army.
And this is where he stays for six years.
 
Inan and Keava are names that hold a lot of influence.
He goes to meet them as soon as he can but one look at Inan reveals he's been
marked.
Not with a tattoo or a piercing. Nor any other body modification.
It's exactly as Shusho feared. The only way to achieve power, is to suffer. And
Inan has, most definitely.
When asked, Inan shakes his head, says, "I let my weakness be the downfall of
my family. I should have known better."
Shusho knows there's a lot in that sentence. Inan never elaborates.
Shusho trains with him, makes him stronger, faster.
Inan is going to need it due to what's coming.
Inan is sitting with his head in his hands again. Shusho sits before him.
Finally, Inan says, "Yorea is dead because of me. I've sent too many people to
their deaths."
Shusho takes his time to reply. "You did everything you could. You never knew
the outcome would be this."
Inan looks up. "We knew it was a possibility."
Shusho moves to sit beside Inan. "And she - like all the others - bravely
went."
Inan is quiet and Shusho lightly touches biceps with him, having noticed Inan's
enmity for touch.
To his surprise, Inan presses more firmly against him. It makes him wonder when
Inan had last allowed himself to be touched.
"Have you thought about marrying Keava?" Shusho asks.
Inan stiffens, draws away, slightly. "Once. When we were young. But she and I
have been forced to have sex so many times, we wouldn't be able to do it now.
Our marriage would be a touchless one."
Shusho frowns and Inan's eyes meet his.
In this moment, Inan presses against him again.
And Shusho thinks about drawing back. Thinks that maybe, he's misunderstood
Inan's intent.
Because Inan is as sexual as Keava - meaning they aren't. They don't talk about
it, don't partake in it, and never seem to think about it.
Inan leans forward, lips brushing the space between Shusho's lower lip and chin
and he holds still. Because Inan is probably lonely. Probably skittish.
And Shusho hasn't had intimate contact since the cliffs all those years ago.
He keeps his hands to himself when his mouth finds Inan's.
***** One After Another *****
Chapter Summary
     From Sasayo's beginning to Sanyo's end.
Chapter Notes
     This one I would like a little insight on... I know it needs some
     work....
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Shura is looking at him. It's the first time he's ever met the woman, he has
only ever heard of her.
People say she's kind and sweet and would be good to her people if it weren't
for Kenjin.
Having just watched her put an end to her eldest daughter's life, he doubts
that.
She quirks her lips. "Poor baby," She coos to him. "Did the twins have too much
fun with you?"
He stares at her, eyes wide, breath harsh and ragged. "Please."
False pity turns to apathy. "Here's my conundrum, sweety." Her eyes glance down
to the dead girl on the stone floor. "While chances are low of anyone believing
the stable boy's brother - who is probably insane with grief, I can't have you
telling anyone about this."
He shakes his head, breathless. "I won't. I promise I won't!"
"I'm going to to give you three options, baby doll. Choose carefully."
The boy is quivering, so anxious he would probably hurl if his stomach weren't
so empty. Yokksun was dead, nobody wanted to admit it, but he knew. He knew.
"Which option lets me go home to my sick momma?"
She smiles grimly.
Unsure of what exactly she wants, he lets out a quivering breath. "T-two?"
The gleam in her eyes goes from sly to malicious. He knows he has chosen wrong.
Out of one of her boots, she draws a pair of crossing blades, fingers in the
circular handles. "Stick out your tongue."
"N-no. Please don't hurt me!"
She runs the two-blades-in-one over his cheek. "It isn't going to hurt for very
long, baby doll. This is what you chose. Consider yourself favoured by the gods
that I'm letting you live."
"Mistress?" Calls a soft voice from the other side of the door.
"What?" Asks Shura, voice flat. "What do you want, you pathetic little wretch?"
"Master Kenjin has requested your presence," She says. "As he put it,
Promptly."
She glares into the frightened boy's eyes, takes his lower lip, in the middle,
between the blades.
He screams in agony and, despite himself, holds still, afraid struggling will
make it worse. Oh, He thinks as he whimpers. Oh, please make this stop.
She runs the blades, opened to full distance over the slowly clotting wound on
his ribs, cuts all of Anaya's punctures open once more, slaps him until he
starts begging again.
"Mistress," Says the woman.
"Enter, you little slut."
"Ma'am, I-"
"Now."
A young woman, maybe his brother's age, edges in, takes one look at the scene
before her, and turns to leave. "I'll tell Master you're busy!"
"Kiren."
The woman stops mid-stride. Her shoulders slope with defeat as she turns to
face them.
"Come here." He's amazed. He's never seen anyone of mixed heritage before. "Do
you like the way she looks?" Asks Shura.
He nods, slowly. Unsure as to where this is going.
She moves to stand in front of Shura as she's guided, closes her eyes and the
older woman's hand slides over her body. "Real shame she's a slutty lesbian."
He has no idea what it means, but he hopes it means she leaves him alone soon.
She pushes her servant to the floor, she jumps away so she doesn't land on the
corpse of her Mistress' daughter. "Let's teach you about lesbians, baby doll."
She rips Kiren's clothes off, he grimaces at the sound of tearing fabric. "They
aren't pretty."
Kiren's eyes become distant, she's trying to be anywhere but this moment.
"You're just upset you caught me with a girl."
Shura slaps the back of the woman's head so hard, her forehead knocks against
the boy's stomach. "Suck him off, slut."
"I don't like-"
"You're a sexual deviant, Kiren. You like every brand of sex. Male or Famale."
Kiren says nothing as the boy whimpers anxiously. She makes a strange noise as
the boy watches the blades disappear between the woman's legs. Shura touches
her breasts, whispers things in the servant's ear. He whines when she takes him
into her mouth, body rocking with whatever ministrations being performed on
her, he isn't really sure what Shura is doing.
He's bleeding and his lip hurts and now somebody is touching him. The pair of
blades shifts and Kiren screams, Shura moans. "That's right."
"M-Madam! Master is looking for you," Says a male servant. "He's quite angry
you haven't come."
"Oh," Her voice is breathy. "That's going to change if he's willing to give me
another five minutes."
"He isn't."
With a huff, Shura shoves the servants head against the boy's pubic bone. "If
you fucking move, I'll fuck every hole of yours with a serrated knife," She
says. Her hands grope Kiren's breast and backside before she stands and
disappears down the hall.
He panics. What if she doesn't come back until tomorrow? Or the day after.
The woman withdraws and he gasps, despite the awful wound in his lip and how
much it hurts to breathe. "You're going to get us in trouble!"
She shifts and gingerly removes the blades from her secret place. Blood has
coated them, dripping from her hairless flesh. "She's going to cut your tongue
out when she's done. Maybe worse. I am not going to sit here and wait for her
to stick scissors up my ass until she climaxes. It's not going to happen."
He blushes at her language and she cuts him free. "Come with me, child."
So he does. They meet a woman a few years older than him, her hair is dark,
expression loath towards everything. Her lashes are thick and dark and he
resists touching them.
"You need clothes," She says.
"No, time," Says Kiren.
She sighs, grabbing the boy by the arm. "Ehao."
"S-Sasayo."
"Right."
It takes a long time to get to the exit.
"Do you want to go with Ehao or I?" Asks the woman with long, blue hair.
Sasayo shakes his head. He's lost and confused. He doesn't know where he should
go.
"I'll take him," Says Ehao. "You've got a lot going on with the Pride."
Kiren nods. "Thank you."
Ehao shrugs. "You're doing me a favour, really." They nod to each other. "And
Kiren?"
She turns, "Hm?"
"If you ever see Lillith, destroy her face and tell her it's from me."
"If I can catch hold of her before Ken does."
"Eh. She always was pretty agile."
 
They stop at a town and buy him clothes. Ehao doesn't seem bothered by his
nudity, but others are. "Why do you and Kiren hate the woman so much?" He asks
from the dressing room.
There's a long pause. "She used to force Kiren and I to do things to each other
for money."
He doesn't know what to say to that. "But Kiren likes girls...."
"That may be, but she - and I, for that matter - like to be.... Intimate with
people we choose. There's a difference."
Sasayo agrees with that.
 
"Why don't you care about my nudity?" He asks as they cross the border into
NorthEastern Territory. He thinks about asking if she's a lesbian, too.
"I know you would not dare come at me with that," She says. "Also, gender and
reproductive organs mean nothing to me."
"So you're like Anju of the North?"
Ehao pauses. "Something like that. She isn't from the North, though. She comes
from hell."
Sasayo is perplexed but says nothing.
 
"Alright. This guy's an asshole," Ehao's tone implies she really doesn't like
him, he's met Anju and when they insult each other, Sasayo can tell they're
friends.
But she isn't friends with Naija. "Just keep your head down and be sweet. You
can do that, right?"
Sasayo, confused, nods slowly.
"Good," She says. "Bide that time of yours. Mate with a Female and be sure to
get her pregnant. Then kill this stupid fuck." Her voice is flat, but Sasayo
can pick up smouldering hate just under the surface.
In hindsight, he should have asked to go with her.
 
In this Clan, He meets Mokko, who is treated rather badly for liking men.
Naija taunts him relentlessly.
And Sasayo tries to take Ehao's advice, but he's frequently beaten for even
looking at a Female the wrong way.
It makes sense to him that Mokko would become gay.
He starts to day dream about killing Naija in all sorts of ways and it confuses
him. He's never had these thoughts before.
"That's normal," Says Mokko. "Different circumstances change your hormones.
Violence is one of the side effects. It's a good thing," Promises Mokko.
Sasayo disagrees.
Fall Season begins to approach and Sasayo volunteers to stay behind and keep an
eye on things.
Naija gives him a strange look and Sasayo does his best to appear as submissive
as possible.
A hand cards through his hair. "Okay," Says Naija. "But I need to be sure
you're in your place first."
Sasayo is confused, yet again. He's been good for as long as he's known the
rules. He's tried to keep his head down and play submissive Subordinate Male.
What more can he do?
Naiji guides him to his knees and dread fills him. "S-Sir! I don't think I can-
"
"Are you my Subordinate or not, Yo?"
All those eyes on him add to his shame. Mokko looks like he wants to say
something but Sasayo just shakes his head. There's no point in Mokko getting
beaten for standing up for him.
Naiji, Sasayo soon discovers, likes gagging his Subordinates.
And if that's what he does to the Males of the group, he wonders how much worse
it is for the Females.
It's over and done with soon enough, Naiji pleased and his Second mocking
Sasayo.
And Sasayo lets them do what they want like a good, low-ranking Subordinate
Male.
Because they'll be sorry.
 
When they're gone, he smiles at Naija's children, the ones that don't belong to
the Chosen.
He slides the knife out of the sheath laced into the flesh of his arm.
A woman throws herself between him and the children. "Please! We can do this
peacefully."
He lets her go with the children, lies with every Female he can before Naija
gets back.
A few of them get pregnant and, because he'll have fathered the most in the
Clan, it means it's time to take over.
Assuming that woman doesn't return with Naija's children.
He's never considered killing children before. And the fact that his instincts
cry for it, disturbs him. Makes him sick.
Naija is furious when he returns. Sasayo and Dedash have taken the leadership
positions while he's been away.
He expects a fight. But he doesn't expect Naija to stab Dedash to death and
force every pregnant Female to miscarry. They chase both Sasayo and Mokko from
the Territory.
Sasayo feels awfully guilty. He knows he never should have done that. Wouldn't
have if he'd known this would happen.
He wanders until he meets Kiren again. "What happened?" She asks him.
He shakes his head and she leads them to the Pride.
Sasayo expect Chiikets to do the same initiation that Naiji did.
Instead, he gets an examination and rules about what Chiikets will and won't
tolerate.
Never once, does he touch Sasayo or Mokko is a way that isn't purely clinical.
Sasayo tells Mokko to keep his sexual preferences to himself because Chiikets
has already made it clear he won't allow homosexuality.
Mokko reluctantly agrees.
It's years later that Kajmir walks in on Mokko and a random Male he brought in
from the Trading Grounds.
He's disgusted, throws the Male out, but only tells Chiikets he was snooping
through Denii's panty drawer.
It reaches a point that, out of the Males, only Chiikets and Liv are unaware
that Mokko is homosexual.
He observes that Kiren is openly homosexual but Chiikets allows it because she
mates with him.
When he brings it up to Mokko, he grimaces. "I can't mate with a Female. That's
just-" He cuts himself off. "I just can't."
Sasayo hopes Chiikets doesn't learn about Mokko too soon.
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
When she was young, she used to dream that a man would rescue her.
He never came.
Instead, Shiseken had. Kiren, too.
And, at first, that was enough. It was enough that somebody loved her enough to
pull her - along with themselves - from the pit.
And then, when she had her own two feet to stand on, Chiikets and Kajmir
appeared like two predators in the night. There to take down and drag back to
their dens, any unsuspecting meeks. She wouldn't let her dreams take root
again.
She thought she was strong. She thought she could be fine with a family that
would die for her.
"Have you ever just let yourself be, Triska?" Chiikets asks. He's unable to
look at her while he struggles to pull the reluctant meek into the stable. They
might be timid animals, but they are no less carnivores, powerful in build.
She tilts her head. "Be?"
"Yes. Let go of whatever is eating you and just," He gives a rough tug and the
animal squeaks, "lived." He slips out the gate and shuts it before the meek can
follow.
Triska is at a loss. "I don't really have the capacity or the time. It's always
about the next Winter."
Chiikets shakes his head. "That's no way to live."
"You do it all the time."
"That's different. This is why I'm allowed to live. I'm useful. I get us
through. And while it's necessary that everyone pulls their weight, it's still
mainly my responsibility." He stands, leads her back to the fire pit and sets
up a board of wood over what might be a pair of tin barrels. "Kajiim. You like
to dance, don't you?"
The brown-skinned girl shyly nods, fingers anxiously twisting in her hair.
And Triska's heart skips at the kind expression his face takes. "Would you tap
out a rhythm for me?"
She steps closer, allows him to lift her slim frame onto the board. He smiles
at her, shows her what he wants her to do. The rhythm she half-stomps onto the
board is amplified by the metal underneath.
Kiren has a stringed instrument she's taught herself to play over the Winter
when they could do nothing but stay inside.
Kajmir laughs. "I know this tune."
Honjin and Kajiim both practice on the board, smiling and laughing while Kiren
tunes her instrument.
It's pretty in time with the girls even beat and Triska finds herself swaying
just a little.
"Why don't you start us off, Xil?"
Xil nods, her voice is smooth and medium in pitch: "Oh, tell me about that time
when we went to the seaside.
Tell me everyday we wake in the sunlight.
Never let me forget the look you had when you first said we'd go.."
Chiikets takes Triska by the hand. "Have you ever danced before?"
Triska frowns. "No."
Chiikets makes her feel strangely cold-hot when he looks at her. "The good
thing about dancing with someone, is that it's like fighting as a duo. Just as
intimate. Just as precious."
He guides her through the steps and she feels more than she has in a long time.
When Xil goes into the chorus, Chiikets' voice is there, but softer, letting
her keep the lead. It'd sound seductive if his voice was over hers.
And Triska can't even believe that this is the same man she's known for the
last year.
"Don't let me stray so far our hearts part.
Don't let me wander until my loneliness is all I know.
I only wish to know the world.
All that matters is you."
Triska can feel herself getting lost in all sorts of ways.
Kajmir's voice isn't nearly as deep as Chiikets's when he takes the lead for
the next verse.
"All my days
I dream of bringing you to belong with my family.
This time has sent my heart to yearning endlessly.
I wish to see you in the bright, midday sun."
Everyone goes silent and waits a beat.
Kajmir sounds sincere, almost what Triska would call sexy. "All that matters is
you."
And then, as though it had been practiced - And maybe it was. Maybe their
families taught them how to harmonize - their voices, even the bad ones, begin
the next verse, yet Xil and Kajmir are still heard over everyone else. It's
beautiful and Triska is able to let go and enjoy them, is able to dance to her
Leader's beat.
And she wants to.
The entire night, they sing and dance and play different instruments.
And Triska loves Chiikets in a way she ought not.
Decides opium will be her only lover when he chooses Shiseken over her.
 
It's a cool, Spring day when he comes to her. "Triska, you're sick."
"I'm not." But she is. She knows she is. Because Shiseken, once her Savior, her
sister, is now something to be overcome. Someone to pillage and take everything
from.
She doesn't feel a shred of guilt.
His eyes, blue ― So very blue ― and concerned, take her in again. "Then what is
wrong?"
She turns him away and he doesn't push it.
 
It's when she spies Shiseken washing clothes down by the river, singing some
old, handed down song that Triska feels very much like Asheer.
She shoves Shiseken into the river, they struggle and Triska forces her under
the current, Shiseken's nails razing welts on her skin.
Shiseken would have, on any given day, been able to overcome Triska. But a
miscarriage has weakened her.
"I wouldn't if I were you."
Shiseken is allowed up when Triska turns to face Chante. He's sitting on a tree
branch, watching with that stupid, sly look on his face. "He'll kill you for
that. And we both know that's far from what you want."
Triska glares. "What do you know?"
He leers at her and she stands tall, regardless that he's always scared her.
"He's already going to kill her," Says Shiseken, rising from the water. She's
angry. And Triska knows their bond is broken now.
Chante shakes his head. "He isn't going to know. Because we definitely wouldn't
want him finding out you know Mokko's homosexual."
She gives him a look. "You wouldn't dare."
"Oh," Says Chante. "Just you wait."
Shiseken makes a tactical retreat. Triska has to know, "Why are you keeping me
out of death's snare?"
Chante grins, white teeth and dark eyes. He looks like his cousin and sisters
but different somehow. Less innocent and pure, perhaps? "Because I love women
in my debt."
And Triska, even though she thinks him attractive, wishes Shiseken had just
ended her.
 
Triska comes to find that Chante can and will blackmail his way around. She
takes more and more to being high than being in the present.
It isn't fair that she'll only ever be the extra baby-bearer. That Chante has
put her in a bad situation.
 
It's two weeks later that outsiders bid her to lure Tevil and Sanyo to the
trails.
They promise opium if she does. They know they have her because she's in
desperate straits.
￣￣￣￣￣￣
"Mokko," Says Chiikets in the dead heat of Summer. "Is what I'm hearing true?"
Chante, the snitch, stands behind the auburn-haired man, smiling impishly.
Sasayo hopes he quits that before he marries Kajiim.
No wonder she favours Tevil over him.
Speaking of which...
Chiikets asks, "Are you practicing homosexuality?"
At the same time Sasayo asks, "Where's Tevil?"
Chiikets gives a stern look to Sasayo before the younger man says, "I haven't
seen she or Sanyo all day..."
"Triska thought it would be good to take them out."
".... Just them?" Asks Chante.
Sasayo watches something change in Chiikets' demeanor. He steps into Mokko's
space. "We aren't done." And then he backs off. "Go and get Kajmir. Chante,
Sasayo, you're with me."
 
His long legs are hard to keep up with for Sasayo, who is only a little taller
than a Human Male, Chante is darting ahead, appearing like lightning. Sasayo is
amazed. Then not when he realizes a snitch has to be quick.
Chante is also a good tracker. He doesn't waste time sniffing this way or that.
A glance to the right and to the left and the time for Sasayo to take three
strides is all he needs before he's taking off down the trail to the left.
They follow until they come into a clearing. Men scatter as Chante begins using
what's known as Lightning technique. He can't kill all of them, but he appears
and slaughters quite a few. Chiikets kills several bare-handed. His knives stay
in their sheaths.
Sasayo tries to track down Tevil and Sanyo.
A child screams, high pitch and shrill and Sasayo powers through the brush,
ears drawn back and intent on the sound.
When he comes to them, there's a man atop Tevil and he freezes. He's disgusted
but he doesn't know how to help Tevil without getting her injured.
A flash of red, like the wind, shoves past Sasayo.
The red blur knocks into the man and Tevil scoots away, crying out for Chante
or Kajiim or anyone.
Sasayo scoops her up as a second outsider comes into view.
He won't be able to hold the man off for long, but it'll be enough for Tevil to
escape.
It has to be.
Chiikets pauses in beating the other man senseless. Looks up at Sasayo and
notices what he's looking at.
Slowly, he stands and steps between the outsider and Sasayo.
He's bloody and bruised.
His side is weeping blood.
The man looks like he's going to attack before thinking better of it.
Chiikets turns to Sasayo then. There's something in his eyes as he approaches
them and Sasayo tenses. Holds Tevil tighter when Chiikets' arms come up. And
feels his brain malfunction as Chiikets pulls them both against him. Sasayo's
face meets Chiikets' ribs and Tevil squirms in his arms in agitation. She's
getting too old, much too old to be coddled. But she pauses at the affection
Chiikets is showing them, looks up at him with serious, dark eyes.
Men tromp through the trees, some of them scream and another child is crying
out, this one for his mother and father. Chiikets backs away from them at once
and runs as if his life depends on it, to the sound. Sasayo decides it's safest
for him to take Tevil home.
He does pray for Sanyo to be saved. He prays the entire time he's returning.
The other men are gone, but the women are gathered, waiting for any sign.
Anything at all, that tells them who has gone and who will come home again.
He gives Tevil to Kajiim who cries silently and clings to her little sister.
Triska is brought back.
But there is no Sanyo.
They ask her over and over again but she says she has no idea what they did
with him. Who they are or where they went.
The first time Chiikets hits her, the entire Family recoils in surprise. But
Triska isn't one of them anymore.
And she won't be again.
They search for another few days before Denii breaks down into tears, unable to
go on.
Sasayo hopes they've killed Sanyo. He can't bear thinking of what will happen
to the boy otherwise.
Chiikets' bloodlust is turned upon Triska, then. Allowing Shiseken, Kiren, and
Asheer to chase her out of his Territory with no mercy.
They stop at the boundary line, watching her with malice. But Denii breaks
between them, full tilt, screaming, "You've killed my son!"
Shiseken is forced to follow, obligated to look after the grief- stricken
woman.
Chiikets is pacing the floor, just as he did last year at this time, Kajmir
watching him, head in his hands, crying so subtly, no one would know unless he
looked at them.
Chiikets is so angry, he can't focus. Or maybe that's the fever he hasn't quite
managed to overcome. He really isn't sure. "You can blame me."
Kajmir takes a moment to compose himself. "Why would I do that?"
They had the same dialogue last year, too. Every year for the last five. But
this is different. Someone has found a new lead on Sanyo and it's stirred
everyone up. Stirred Denii and Kajmir into both hope and despair over their
son.
"It's just as much my fault as it is Triska's."
Kajmir says something in Frank, Chiikets wonders if he's being cursed. "You
didn't know she was a bitch."
He scrubs his left hand over his face. "I should have known, Mir. I should
have-"
"You couldn't have proven it even if you did know." Kajmir sounds like he's
trying to convince them both that it's not worth blaming Chiikets. He sighs. "I
blame everyone right now," He says. "I'm scared for my son. I can't stop these
visions of why they would want him. The torture they may be putting him
through. And I'm sitting on my hands."
Chiikets wishes he knew what to do.
Kajmir goes to be by himself while he waits for Chiikets to decide what they'll
do next.
Chante watches their Father restlessly pace the wooden floor. His hand scrubs
over his face, covers his mouth, rubs his temple, and runs through his own
hair. Chante thinks he looks lost.
"I await orders, Father."
"You could have mentioned what happened between yourself and Kajiim."
"Now isn't the time," Says Chante. As an afterthought, "Sir."
Chiikets turns, gives Chante a measuring look. Like he knows what Chante is
doing. The other man isn't really worried about it, though. Chiikets is
feverish and getting worse. "What are we going to do about Sanyo?"
Chiikets goes back to pacing. "We need to...." He takes another breath. "We
should..." Chante can tell his focus is everywhere and nowhere all at once. He
really feels quite bad.
He's shocked when Chiikets gives his own bandages a rough jerk, hisses, but his
voice is clearer. "I need you to take Sasayo and Denii..."
"And?"
"Sh-Shiseken. Asheer. Kiren."
"Should I take Kajmir?"
Chiikets, perspiration becoming noticeable, shakes his head. "I need," He
sounds slightly faint, gives another tug to his wounds, "I need him here."
Chante wonders if he should just put their Father out of his misery right now.
He has the ability to make it painless.
Aside from himself, only Kajmir would know... "Anything else?"
"No."
Chante turns to go and Chiikets grabs his arm. His eyes, slightly glazed over,
search Chante's for something.
"Yes, Father?"
Chiikets holds his gaze for another long moment, looks like he wants to say
something really important then lets go and steps back, looking tired and worn
down and old. "I don't remember."
 
They scower the places Sanyo is likely to be hidden. But they don't find him.
They return home in time to helplessly watch Kenjin finish their Father off.
Chante drags Shiseken out of sight before Kenjin can hunt them, too.
It's agony, waiting it out in terror and grief. Knowing he could have given
Chiikets an easy laying to rest.
And feeling guilty he didn't.
Kajmir is dead, too.
Denii stops eating. Never has anything to say.
Chante isn't good at it, but he does his best to try to pull people together to
get things done. Denii never does anything he asks her to.
He lets it slide.
Her son is dead or, more likely, in a brothel and her husband was killed. He
can't blame her for having no motivation.
The children were hidden in the cellar under the floorboards of the cabin.
Denii and Shiseken stop being close because Ko is alive and safe. Shiseken
feels guilty but Denii feels bitter envy and pain.
Kiren and Sasayo pick up as much of the slack as they can but Chante is still
cracking under the pressure, doing all he can.
They don't have time to go after Denii's son anymore.
The cabin needs repair and the children are scared and the Pride's death count
keeps going up and up and up, leaving them ravaged both physically and
emotionally.
The meeks were slaughtered. There's little food and water left.
Chante is overwhelmed, only having ever been a subordinate and, Kajmir having
been labeled as Chiikets' successor, no one else was trained.
Kajmir dying had never been an option.
So here they are, two years later, Sasayo petitioning Chante to let him search
for Kajmir's son, Denii barely responsive, and Kajiim angry at him.
She told him, quite rudely, that he needed to stop messing around and get
married. He had pushed against her. Who was she to say something like that to
him?
He was the oldest of their family, the head of their Clan.
But that has never stopped Kajiim from saying hurtful things before. From being
painfully, awkwardly honest.
He admires and resents her all at once.
Sasayo, on the other hand, flat out annoys him, stirring up a few members here
and there until Chante has no choice but to allow them to look for Sanyo once
more.
It's aggravating, and Sasayo knows Chante needs him, but the boy can't seem to
let it go.
It takes another full year for Sasayo to find him, dead-eyed and doll-like, in
a brothel to the SouthWest.
He's sure to give every last culprit a painful, mortifying death.
Chante is amazed that he's come home. The boy's mother comes to life in a way
they never thought they'd see again.
But the boy is not who he was before. And Sasayo has quietly voiced to Chante
that Sanyo was better off dead. They change his name to Sech, his given name
having been used in profane ways. He eventually starts to act like a normal
person. But Chante isn't sure he'll ever really get better.
The first time the boy's eyes meet his, Chante knows the boy has been changed
in ways he's not going to be able to fix.
His eyes are haunted and hollow like those who've come before him.
Chante knows he wasn't taken specifically to clean the rooms.
A chill goes through Chante and guilt settles into his bones. A glance at
Sasayo says he feels it, too.
 
Then Kenjin appears out of a blizzard that leaves them blind.
Chante knows he's come to finish them off, gets into a brawl with a man bigger
than himself and takes a long fall into a divide a short run from the cabin.
The snow bank cushions his fall but he isn't willing to make the climb back up.
He stares up at the walls on either side. Hopes his sisters made it out okay.
And lets them think he's dead.
It's a great weight off his shoulders. He knows it's selfish and wrong. But he
can't bring himself to care. He was never meant to lead the Pride. That was for
Chiikets. For Kajmir. Anyone but himself. 
When he meets Thorne again, she's dedicated herself to a Human abbey, never to
love again.
Yorea has died in battle.
Chante feels sorrow for her, comes around a lot more until they're particularly
close.
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
Sech is a quiet child now. He shies away from every type of physical contact,
always forgets where he is.
There are times, that he clings to Sasayo, seeks out his affection.
But the man is starting to notice something is... Off about the boy. He has no
idea how to rectify it.
He marries Kajiim in the Fall. He notices that he's taller than she is. He's
taller than most of the women now and it's funny that he never noticed his
physical changes until this point.
He still thinks about Triska sometimes. Wonders why she would do what she did.
Wonders if Sech is going to heal. Wonders how things could have been. But he
has to quickly drop it due to the chores piling up. He doesn't have time to
worry or say, "what if."
And maybe it's for the best.
Chapter End Notes
     For some reason, the timeline was very difficult to put together in
     this one....
***** When the World Changes Rapidly (And Yet Slowly All the Same) *****
Chapter Summary
     Givan has a long history. Some of it, she wants to forget. Some of
     it, Kiren wishes she would remember.
Chapter Notes
     I honestly don't think I'll keep this chapter. But it might inspire
     me to write something decent soon.
     For any who have made it this far, please do leave some comments.
     They encourage me during dry spells such as these...
Givan doesn't particularly care that Nachte is staring at her.
Nor does she care that there are four cubs in the room, although, honestly, the
one to the right doesn't smell like a cub.
She smells like Nachte.
The man sets a cup of injin before her. It's warm and smells quite sweet with
lope syrup and kii berries. "How's Kiren?"
"Dead to me," Says Givan, struggling against the ghost smell of honeysuckle
warmed by sunshine.
Four sets of feet shuffle from the room and Nachte shifts in his chair. "For
what? Didn't you say you loved her and shoun-de-nich?"
Givan notes the phrase, meaning "Other way round." Only because Westeners are
known to use that phrase, it verifies what she's thought all along. But it
doesn't matter that he comes from Inan's Territory.
She shrugs. "Kiren's a liar. She'd rather be part of the Pride than stay my
lover. She made her choice. I'm making mine."
Nachte makes a noise that indicates he doesn't agree. But Givan tries to
remember he isn't in his right mind at this time.
"So where will you go?"
"North," She says. "Haunku said he might need my expertise there. And I would
love to see him take down Kenjin."
Nachte politely clears his throat and Givan glares. "None of that."
She knows he's smiling when he says, "Sorry."
They sit for another long moment and she listens to him stir his cup, thinks
maybe he's thinking back to a few months ago.
"Did you love him, too?" Maybe it's an impolite question to ask, but Givan has
never cared for shallow tact.
The stirring, a quiet clink of metal and glass, pauses and she thinks she has
hit him a little harder than necessary.
"He used to think I was homosexual, you know?" There's sorrow, something like
humour in his voice. "We used that for years after he realized he was an
idiot." His voice crackles and Givan waits. She honestly thinks he hasn't been
able to express his grief to anyone. They've settled in a nook between Kuden
and Ralom's Territories and he no longer associates with anyone but these four
pitiful creatures and the wolves that follow them.
Nachte has become a shut-in and Givan pities him. He needs a life outside of
being a parent of children that aren't even his and struggling with every loss
that has intertwined itself with his bones.
He takes a soft breath that hitches and Givan wonders if she should tell him to
stop that. That everyone would want him to move on.
"You know," He says when his breathing is under control, "I used to believe
that-" A thud outside sends Nachte scraping his chair away from the table.
The cubs start crying out for him and Givan follows his frantic pace. She runs
into him at the doorway and the acrid smell of his fear washes over her,
overrides his natural smell of freshly cut grass after a heavy rain.
"Go, Haven! Run!" His voice is frantic, the Jankets above them calls out, and
Givan hopes it's only the one-headed variety.
"Damn it," Says Nachte. It's more of a hiss and when he moves out the door,
Givan grabs his arm.
"You can't go out there."
Ripping his arm out of her grip, Nachte says, "I can't let them die."
It erupts into chaos after that, Nachte yells for Haven to move, yells for the
others to hide. Luca cries out for Nachte to get out of the way and one of the
girls has started to cry.
Everyone goes silent at the crunching of bones. Nachte gasps and hisses breaths
through his teeth and the creature rumbles.
"G-Givan. I need you to promise you'll take Rozolyn to Loffen before you go."
"You are insane," Says Givan. "Do you know how far out of my way that is?"
Nachte screams as more crunching ensues. Givan thinks the animal is tearing him
apart, Jankets always were cruel creatures. "Please!" Cries Nachte. "Please, do
this!"
Both of the girls are crying, now. One of the boys is drawing a blade, Givan
only knows because of the soft snnk, that comes from her far right and Nachte's
quivering voice ordering them to stay back.
They start screaming all at once when another cacophony of shattering bones
begins. This time, Nachte screams only once and it's quickly choked off.
Givan wonders why Nachte didn't beg to be saved. Why he would make his last
request such an annoying one. Why not send a message to Naori or ask to be lain
ー Well, have his personal effects ー beside Jezreel?
The beast rumbles and Givan shifts, waits for it to leave and hopes the cubs
are hiding. She may have heightened senses, but she has nearly no chance of
killing it. Large Clans are lucky to even bring one down. Just herself and her
lack of sight, means that if anyone is discovered, she cannot save them.
Minutes tick by. She waits for a long time before the first cub makes it in.
The second follows shortly after. The third and fourth take slightly longer.
Kira shoves her. "Why? Why did you just stand by while that fucking creature
did that to him?"
Clearly, Nachte has failed as a parent and these children must be corrected.
They jump back when Kira meets the floor from the force of Givan's backhand.
"You don't talk to superiors like that. Ever."
Kira's foot collides with Givan's shin, infuriating her. Her own foot knocks
into the girl's face and Luca, smelling of sandalwood and incense, comes over.
"Please," He says. "We just watched our Master die. We don't understand why you
stood by and allowed it."
"You did the same," Says Givan. "Don't expect me to do what you refuse to do,
yourselves."
"He told us to stay back!" Says Haven.
"And you chose to obey. You might have saved him, you might have died like him.
We don't know now because he's dead." Givan almost pities them. Nachte has kept
them in his own personal safety net.
And now he's gone. The net is broken and she doubts they can swim.
There are few things she can do. Leaving them is very high on her list. "Pack
up," She says. "You're coming with me."
They drag their feet, grumble and mildly resist.
But Givan will have none of it. The Winter is bitter and she wants to get to
the nearest shelter before it really sets in. One of them is a Human and she
doubts he'll survive as long as they.
 
Loffen is quiet as she takes in the girl. "This is what Nachte wanted?"
"It is," Says Givan. "His last request, in fact."
Loffen's smell becomes heavy with grief. "How did he die?"
"Jankets."
A broken, hiccup sound escapes her throat. "Oh." It sounds more like the moan
of an animal enduring a cruel hunter. "Oh no. Please tell me you aren't sure."
"I was present," Says Givan, fingers sliding along the doorways sharp metal
frame.
Something tumbles off the waxed wooden desk and Givan thinks she hears Loffen
stagger.
"Why do you care so much? I didn't even know you knew him."
"Nachte was my Nephew."
Givan wishes she could look at Loffen, but touching her is off limits. "I don't
follow. I thought many of King Sonere's-"
"They were. But my family managed to get his brothers to safety and he was
hidden."
Givan shakes her head. "Are you ever going to have cubs of your own? First
Nachte, now Kuden..."
Dropping into a chair, Loffen says, "Now Rozolyn, too. It's what Monavere would
have wanted. He kept his promises, you know?"
Givan settles a hand on Rozolyn's shoulder before the girl can tell Loffen that
Monavere is, indeed, alive. If he wanted her to know, she surely would.
Besides, the wolves have followed Rozolyn and the cubs there and Monavere is no
exception.
 
Stepping out into the crisp air and inhaling the sweet tobacco of the pipe, the
crunching of snow steadily becomes louder, draws nearer.
"Why didn't you want Loffen to know?"
"That my brother bested me?" He asks. "That Xach liked to beat me?"
Givan turns her head towards him and furrows her brow. "She doesn't have to
know that."
The snow shifts. "She will inevitably ask."
Givan's fingers snag his cape, glide lightly up to his shoulder and pause.
Huffing through his nose and leaning forwards, he says, "Go on. May as well."
Her hand lightly traces his features. "Did Loffen love you?"
"No," Says Monavere. "We were close when Kenjin started hunting us. Hunting my
people."
Her finger traces his lips, his top lip is full, the bottom narrow. "I didn't
know."
"Because they don't talk about that."
"Why?"
He pulls away then. "We are shamed when we don't win."
Givan shrugs. "I'd rather live than win."
Monavere scuffs his foot in the snow. "I'd rather die than lose."
 
Haven stays with Rozolyn, which doesn't surprise Givan for an instant.
The route they take leads them through different Territories and Luca
frequently asks to take the long way. Givan refuses. Many of these people are
used to her trespassing and don't bother with her anymore.
Once the long, long trip is made and the gates are shut behind them, Givan can
breathe easier.
Kira breaks away from her though, screaming for Haunku, who seems to be running
at a break-neck pace towards them.
When they meet in the middle, and go silent, Givan is confused. "Where do you
know her from?"
"Kira is my sister."
Givan wonders if maybe Luca has a distant, unknown relative she can dump the
boy onto, as well. But years pass and no one shows up to claim him.
 
When Jyon first spies her, it's during Yanrik's coronation.
He's come not in support of the new Queen, but to assassinate Itan. Orro has
come with him.
Jyon shifts, debating whether he should divert and speak to her, pipe twitching
from the corner of his lips. Orro always found that funny.
But he's not feeling humorous right now.
He's tired and a little anxious.
Everyone is in war gear, he's noticed, so people don't give a second glance to
Orro and Jyon.
Orro doesn't sleep well, though, having full knowledge that, if they get one
detail wrong, he and Jyon ― Especially Jyon ― could die.
But if Jyon is bothered by this, he doesn't show it. Not at all.
Always as calm and assured as Orro's mother. Orro knows him as a constant. And
Jyon is comfortable that way.
He sighs and the smoke from the pipe drifts out of his nostrils like a Relent
in Winter.
"It's so weird when you do that," Says Orro.
Jyon glances at him, blows out a smoke ring. "Better?"
Orro wonders how skilled his tongue must be if he's able to do that then
promptly turns away from that trail of thought before realizing his Estarred is
still looking at him. "Oh. Uh, yeah."
Jyon smiles and rolls his eyes. "Awkward."
"I know," Says Orro, "but we still love you."
With a snort, Jyon glides his tongue along his top teeth. Returns his attention
back to the woman in the crowd.
She's near his age, dark hair and a profile that speaks of feminine features.
Her figure is a little too thin and she carries two large, drum-shaped objects
upon her straight, upright back. He imagines the baskets ー For, what purpose
would she bring instruments? ー are light if such a wisp of a girl could carry
them.
A man, taller than she is, looks over her head and makes eye contact with Jyon.
It's then he realizes this girl belongs to the Pride and his attentions are not
wanted.
Not by the girl, she still stands oblivious.
But by Sech. The cunning snake that's always looking for something to pour his
poison into.
Jyon breaks the eye contact and continues watching the girl. He can feel the
daggers Sech is trying to telepathically stab into his flesh, it prickles and
makes him think Sech will wade through the crowd and come for his blood any
moment.
But Jyon is not scared of some girlish Southerner. He's the Prince in his Clan
and he'll be damned if someone lower ranking comes between himself and what he
deserves.
The girl looks at him then, bright yellow-green meets light brown and he takes
her in.
She's got features that indicate she may be part of the Fargreft Clan, which
likely makes her Rogue-built. But by her height, the width of her shoulders and
how willowy she is, he thinks she's had Tarshish mixed into her blood
somewhere.
An arm wraps around the young woman's shoulders and she turns to the owner. She
resists mildly when Sech pulls her against him, glaring at Jyon from over her
head. Chikotsu looks over, too. First at Sech and the girl, then Jyon.
Chikotsu is obviously Rogue-built. Broad shoulders, a waist that tapers but is
still full of power, and a naturally aggressive demeanor. People move out of
the way of the Pride's Prince. The freckles smattering his face bunch up in one
section over his quirked brow.
Jyon's eyes dart to the girl then back. Chikotsu slides his eyes to the pair
again, lingers for a long time before returning to Jyon's. Instead of baring
his teeth or returning attention to the Ceremony, he just shrugs.
This surprises Jyon. He's not denying access, merely giving a, "What will be,
will be," response.
But Itan cannot be disregarded.
Jyon turns back to the Ceremony, watching Sech and Chikotsu wordlessly bicker
out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you think they know what Itan did?" Whispers Orro.
Jyon glances at him, notices others are tuning in. How could they not, with
senses that are so accute?
Jyon waits for Orro to subtly ask what he wants to know.
"Is Niniai aware of what he is?"
It sounds like an innocent question. People have been asking it, too. But this
isn't about the Toko Family. This is about what was done to Orro's sister,
Keteer. "Let's find out."
 
 
Ehao, when she appears, has a Male trailing after her, some one Givan
recognizes the voice and smell ー like leather and copper ー as Zenchu.
Do we ever stop being interconnected, She wonders as they approach.
"You and Kiren don't talk anymore?" Asks Ehao.
Givan turns to retreat into her cabin. "What do you think?"
"That you're selfish," Says Ehao oh-so-lightly.
Givan gets tired of hearing it. Kiren was just as selfish, if not more.
"Go drown, Ehao."
She snorts. "Not quite yet."
Ehao smells like the ocean. It makes Givan remember the day they all stopped
worrying for a few hours and lounged around in the water.
Reminds her of the very moment she realized she loved Kiren.
Shaking herself out and trying to block Ehao from her sense of smell, she turns
and begins down the stone walkway. But the other woman follows. "I need you to
put yourself aside."
"Why should I?"
"Because the Kaddesh are bloodthirsty and Niiniai is in the crossfire."
Givan turns unseeing eyes on Ehao. "That is not my problem. She's a weakling
anyway."
"But she belongs to Kiren's Clan."
"Did belong. Doesn't anymore. And I see no reason why you can't go."
Zenchu shifts, the smell of copper intensifies.
"I'm dying, Givan."
"But here you stand. Stop trying to manipulate me."
"The healer has said I've only a few months left. And I would like to spend
them here."
Givan is silent for a long moment. Her world is rapidly changing. A life
without Nachte meant little. A life without Kiren was difficult but so
beautiful.
But Ehao?
Would she be able to relive the long cozy Winters with the knowledge that she
could never have a real one again, with this woman? "Did you already say
goodbye to them?"
"I did."
Givan raises her hand in the direction of Ehao's voice and her expression is
recognizable in stark clarity.
Her fingers trace over thin, drawn brows, tattoos to cover a nasty scar over
her left eye, thinned lips and sloped shoulders.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Whispers Givan, trying to memorize every detail, from
the sound of her voice to the smell of illness and sea salt. She's thin. Far
too thin.
 
When she enters, Kiren comes trotting up. But Givan does not turn to her. "I
have come to speak with Father."
They serve her tea that she does not touch. She is cold to them and they are as
polite as they can manage to her. Honestly, many of them were hurt by her angry
departure. But Sasayo, thinking about it, has to admit that they've lost so
many, every member of their Family is precious. They always seek to keep anyone
they can. They are quite close-knit.
But not Givan. At least not any more.
"Itan has taken after his uncle. Are you aware of this?"
There's silence around the table.
"Givan, that's a pretty stark accusation."
Givan's white eyes turn upon Sasayo with such accuracy, it startles him.
She isn't capable of guile, has never had any interest in it. "He has done harm
to Kira's daughter. They are going to kill him. I would suggest you remove
Niiniai while you can."
Sasayo is still trying to understand what has happened.
Kiren reaches over, lightly touches Givan's hand. "Thank you."
Givan jerks her hand back as though burned, stands as though utterly repulsed.
Sasayo notices Kiren biting her lip and angling her gaze up and to the rafters.
"I didn't do it for you." Givan's voice is rough, hissed through teeth bared.
Sasayo thinks Kiren is going to cry soon.
Givan has never forgiven Kiren.
And now Kiren is paying for it.
They never expected Givan to return. Never expected her to be so cruel to a
woman she once loved fervently, once wanted to be the Chosen of.
Sasayo blames Chiikets and his rules, even if they kept order.
Givan blames all of them, especially Kiren, for being weak.
Kiren has never expressed regret or hatred or blame.
But she has always loved Givan. "Then whom for?"
"Ehao."
Kiren drops her head to the table and Givan's head turns in her direction.
As much as Sasayo wants to give Givan a piece of his mind for tearing apart his
faithful Second, he has to put his daughter first. "How long do we have?"
Givan's unseeing eyes pierce him, too. "A week and a half."
That's enough time to mobilise. Enough time to save his daughter. Enough time
for Kiren to heal from this.
"Thank you, Givan. And please send thanks to Ehao for us?"
Givan shrugs, already halfway out the door. "Sure."
 
There's smoke filling the air and it makes Givan wish she didn't travel alone.
But she hates when seeing people insist on treating her as though she were
helpless. It disgusts her.
Death permeates the air and she is further confused. She knows this route like
the back of her hand. Knows its contours and rest stops. This should be a
village, not a mass of death and burning wood.
Her instincts scream for her to run but she knows by the thick stench of blood
there's nowhere to go. "Dashiir."
"Bitch."
"What brings you here?" Perhaps she shouldn't be speaking calmly with Anayo's
Second. But her life is going to be cut dramatically short no matter what at
this point.
The scent of rust and smoke becomes choking as he nears her. Givan isn't
bothered when he rubs a gore-soaked hand up her bare arm. "I've come bearing a
message."
"Which would be?"
"It's begun."
Givan tries to keep track of him as he circles her, it's quite aggravating.
"What has?"
Cool metal presses against her temple and she wonders, with pure curiosity,
what it is.
"The rise of the Humans," He says. "And Anayo with them."
Givan shrugs. "I thought he was already at the top."
The metal presses harder into her flesh and a thrill of fear ripples down her
spine. "He is going to crush and assimilate every last one of you."
"And what do the Humans have to do with this?"
The metal withdraws, Givan waits. She thinks her blood would be chilled if she
could see his face.
"The ones on Mainland don't take kindly to being pushed around."
Givan snorts at that. "They'll get used to it."
"So will you," Says Dashiir before the smell of rust fades.
Givan is forced to navigate home blind in both sight and smell.
More than once does she regret being alone.
***** Mother *****
Chapter Summary
     Anayo sets the wheels of Fate into motion for the whole island.
     Ma'hale is conflicted.
Ma'hale likes people to think he isn't aware of what's happening. That he
doesn't know about the blade that sometimes hovers over his throat after Mercy
has been particularly friendly. And every time, he waits with baited breath.
A glance at the green-haired Tarshish reveals his intense reading of some book
he picked up from the Trading Grounds. Dark eyes meet his before flicking his
gaze back down to the pages.
He knows that one day, Mercy will be able to press that cold metal against his
throat and slide it over his flesh, pouring his life over carefully stuffed
blankets and pillows. Maybe he should tell Anayo, but he can't bear to think of
what the man will do to his Yona.
Because, while it's so obvious that Mercy is a traitor ― He may as well have
the word tattooed to his forehead ― he has been with Ma'hale for years. Ma'hale
needs him.
 
A great beast lowers itself onto the large, clear piece of land and Human men
trot out of it. Ma'hale's hair stands on end, looking at them in odd war-gear.
Ma'hale has seen guns before, Anayo's men used them sometimes, but all of these
men have guns.
Anayo and Dashiir watch quietly. A man steps forward, sandy-blonde hair and
bright blue eyes.
Anayo nods to Dashiir who moves only a foot or two from his side.
The Human man trots up alongside a burly brunette with narrowed eyes and
twisted lips but they stop short about twenty feet away.
"What brings you to visit us, Mister Williams?" Dashiir calls.
The burly man talks in a language that sounds familiar to Ma'hale, but he does
not know.
Turning to them, the burly man says, "We need a little assistance."
Dashiir turns to glance at Anayo, who nods. "And this would be?"
Mister Williams steeples his fingers and looks cold while he talks, something
about the way he holds himself as though he were sad strikes Ma'hale as
disturbingly similar to his Father's body language.
The burly man says, "A group of men kidnapped his fiancè. We need you to rescue
her at all costs. You can do whatever you want with the rest of them."
Anayo's eyes light up and Ma'hale tries to share a glance with Mercy. But the
Tarshish won't meet his eye.
"Tell me how we may find this group of unrighteous men?"
"They will be unmistakable," Says Williams.
Anayo's smirk grows even though Ma'hale can see him trying to keep it under
control. "We will need to be on an even playing field."
"Of course." The burly man tosses a rifle to Dashiir who catches is it lightly
and Ma'hale wonders what Anayo's real plan for these weapons are.
"When do we expect them?"
"Very soon. They'll come by cargo plane." There's a moment's pause. Long enough
for a breath before Williams speaks and the burly man says, "And Mister
Williams would like to stay until you do find her."
Ma'hale, standing many feet away from his Father, can feel the wild energy, the
blood lust, and greed that's been stirred under the man's skin.
When he looks at Ma'hale, a deep, terrifying plan in those slitted pupils, the
young man shivers and nods his agreement.
Anayo's voice deepens just slightly when he says, "We are happy to accommodate
him."
 
Ma'hale thinks about his Mother over Evening meal. Why she adopted a Human
child instead of coming back for him. Mercy has voiced that he thinks the Human
is because she felt guilt and thought Ma'hale was dead. The Human was merely a
way to atone.
Hyon is watching him, chewing her lip instead of the meal the servants have
slaved over to get just right. "What's wrong, Ma'hale?"
Ma'hale's half sister squirms out of Hyon's lap and crawls over to Ma'hale, who
picks her up rather quickly. She coos and pulls at his mouth and hair.
"Thinking about my mom again," He says.
Hyon sighs. "I'm sorry. I know it must have been scary living in that village
when it a was burned out by plague."
Ma'hale will never forget the way his Human Mother had tried to protect him,
had cried and begged him to leave as he held her, watched her become feverish
and slip through his fingers.
And the other villagers blamed him for the plague. His Mother had a stillborn
baby before him and they thought she had made a deal with the devil to bring
him back, thus his strength and height. At one point, he'd believed them. Then
his Mother told him he was Half-Human and that he was normal. Completely
normal.
When he told the other children, instead of being accepted, they thought he was
the devil's son or an abomination that nature was punishing them for.
Sometimes, he wonders if the plague was his fault.
He never wished the awful outcome on them, though. He just wanted them to like
him.
Anayo and Dashiir share a glance before the former clears his throat. "Would
you like to see your blood Mother?"
Ma'hale perks as Hyon worries her lip to bleeding. Gao babbling is all that can
be heard for a moment.
Smiling down at his sister, he debates how he would feel. If it would be worth
it.
"We won't be able to take you after tomorrow. We'll be getting ready for that
hunt we agreed on. I won't have time to take you."
Ma'hale glances at a skeptical Mercy. "Can I talk to her?"
Anayo shakes his head. "I don't know how she'll respond to merely seeing you."
Ma'hale watches Hyon's eyes bounce between himself and his Father. "Looking
back, she wasn't in her right mind when she left. And I don't think she's
gotten better."
Hyon looks guilty and sad and Ma'hale thinks his adoptive mother is so very
empathetic. So very beautiful in her kindness.
 
"Where's Father?" Dawn won't make her appearance, for another hour or two but
Ma'hale knows they'll be covering a lot of ground today. And for only a
glimpse, He thinks bitterly.
Dashiir frowns. "Sorry, Young Prince, he got called away by an urgent matter."
Ma'hale thinks Anayo just doesn't want to see his Mother again.
The trip is grueling and Mercy is constantly complaining under his breath,
Ma'hale ignores it fervently.
Traversing Sho's Territory is easy enough. They watch Dashiir very closely but
stay out of the way. But they avoid the Pride while they cross their Territory.
Dashiir is a wanted man and they would do just about anything to have his head
on a pike. He has never told Ma'hale why. And maybe the boy doesn't want to
know.
There's a woman standing at the crest of a large hill and Ma'hale knows.
Partially because the wind sweep her long red hair, whips it around her.
Partially because his instincts ― that voice from just below his sternum ― come
to life and tell him to go to her. To ask her why. To just listen to her voice.
But mostly because when she looks down at them, she freezes, muscles drawing
tense as her skin grows pale and her face ― The look on her face.
He takes an anxious step forward but Dashiir's hand on his shoulder stops him.
"He said you could see her. No other contact."
Ma'hale is suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. He wants so badly it hurts.
"I know but, Dashiir-!" He's so worked up he can't even stay still.
Renjin has already started a cautious approach, hands on the pommels of her
knives. "Why are you here?"
"It's no concern of yours," Says Dashiir, gripping Ma'hale's arm a little
harder than necessary.
Mercy stays silent, unsure if he should do something.
But Ma'hale outright fights, Dashiir. "I know you know who I am!" He yells at
Renjin.
Her lips twist and Ma'hale pauses to see a chill roll down her frame. "Do you
want to go with that man?"
Her voice is calm but the question stirs so many things inside of Ma'hale.
Hope. Anger. Confusion. "Why do you care?"
She takes a step back at the sharp accusation in his question. Her head turns
away from the boy. "I've done wrong by you, then?"
Dashiir watches the exchange intently. Ma'hale wants to cry and scream until
he's hoarse. Wants to shake her and be held by her. He wants the years she was
supposed to spend with him ― With his Father ― back.
Is this what madness feels like? Being so unsure of what one wants that they
can't even voice it? Perhaps madness is hereditary?
He doesn't even realize he's crying until he's sniffling snot back into his
head. And fury becomes white hot when she dares to look concerned. He suddenly
understands that his Father was protecting him, wanting to ease him into his
emotions, instead of this. This overwhelming menagerie of swirling confusion
that makes him want to kill everyone and claw his own eyes out.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen," He tells Dashiir between hiccups. "I'm sorry."
Taking that as a sign to turn Ma'hale around and start their journey home,
Dashiir says, "I know."
Mercy follows silently.
"I hope you can forgive me one day," Says his Mother.
He can't bring himself to respond. He does look back at her once more, just to
see her. Part of him is angry that she's going to just let him go.
Actually, most of him is angry that she's going to just let him go.
Ripping his arm out if Dashiir's grip he storms past Mercy and towards the
stoic woman.
She watches him, seems to be taking in every detail down to how many freckles
are smattered over his face. "You don't care, do you?" He yells at her.
She looks conflicted for a long moment. "If I didn't care, I would have snuffed
you out when I birthed you." He's able to pick up a waver in her voice.
"But you didn't want me."
She finally, finally meets his eye then and says, "Is he hurting you?"
Ma'hale shoves her then, hits her and spits curses as he shoves her again and
she falls to the grass. Pulling the pistol from the bag on his hip and pointing
it in her face brings a surge of satisfaction.
She stares at him, apathetic. "You aren't going to feel better if you do this."
He cocks it, takes the safety off. "Because you know what's best for me? You
don't even know my fucking name."
"Ma'hale," She says before he can even close his mouth. "I know who you are."
"You don't!" He screams.
She stares calmly into the barrel and says, "I suppose it's apt. If you really
believe this will heal you, then go on and fire."
Ma'hale wants to but when his finger alights on the trigger, he notices how
hard his hands are shaking. He wants to. He needs to.
But he can't.
"Renjin?" The imposter is going to crest the hill any moment and Ma'hale makes
a split second decision.
The gun fires the moment he sees that horrible Human. His replacement.
Renjin's eyes are closed, body strung like a bowstring. "I'm sorry."
Ma'hale is trembling, angry and drenched in a cold sweat. He's just killed a
man. There's blood on his hands now. Drawing himself up, he flicks the safety
back on and tucks the gun away. Kicking Renjin's calf gets her attention and
she reluctantly meets his eye. "I will never forgive you," He says.
Her eyes drop to the grass swaying in the breeze. "I know."
Finally, he can leave. Dashiir and Mercy look at him with two starkly different
expressions. Dashiir looks proud but Mercy is shaking his head, arms folded.
He's not going to say anything in front of a superior, but there's an argument
brewing.
"I am here if he's hurting you," She calls after him.
He forces himself to keep walking. Tries not to think about telling her that
she's the only one who's hurt him. All of this is her fault. Dashiir's hand on
his shoulder steadies him.
Anayo's there at the gate when they get there, arms open. Ma'hale doesn't even
have to be told once. He throws himself into his Father's arms and cries. Anayo
never asks how it went.
But Ma'hale knows he doesn't have to.
She's not crazy.
She's heartless.
"Don't worry," Says Anayo, "we'll rescue her from herself. We'll get her back.
I promise."
***** Act I *****
Chapter Summary
     A brief overview.
     Sorajin's rivalry with Renjin comes into fruition.
     Unfortunately for Renjin, it's under circumstances she couldn't
     really have expected.
Chapter Notes
     I wanted to add some details about the dynamic. (Although it's likely
     unnecessary, I like writing Sorajin... Just a little.)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
He's twelve when a rival group invades.
Brutal and quick, they're mostly men. The women in Renjin's group could barely
be contained when they were spotted on the horizon. Renjin thought they had
another day to prepare.
She was wrong.
So here Sorajin is, running at a break-neck pace to the next skirmish when his
attention is disrupted by a man closing in on a bear cub. It roars and snaps at
him and he laughs the entire time.
Sorajin's blood runs hot like magma that one of his own is being toyed with. A
cub, no less!
When the man lays hands on the child Skin-Walker, uttering all sorts of talk
about skinning them, Sorajin's knife makes its home in the soft spot at the
back of the man's skull.
The child shifts back, face tear-streaked and red and he realizes it's Sven.
The girl practically tackles him, trampling the dead man's body. "Thank you,
Estarred," She says. "Thank you."
He wraps his arms around her and assures her that she's safe. That he won't let
anyone hurt her.
Because that's what the Heir does.
 
Hours after the adrenaline wears off and the men who survived have fled,
Sorajin notices the blood caked onto his skin. And it still feels caked on
after he's washed his hands many times over.
He rubs his itching nose, his allergies have been awful this week, and the
healed scabs come loose. After wiping his nose with a handkerchief, he settles
it onto a side table to be washed.
Washed...
Why does it feel like there's dried blood on his hands?
Oh right. Because there still is.
Renjin finds him sitting on the cold wood floor, staring at his bloody hands.
She crouches beside him and waits.
When he can finally face her, he raises his hands to her, not for her
inspection. For her help.
"I did this," He whispers. "It won't come off."
Renjin's gaze searches his hands before meeting his eyes. "You protected."
"I have killed!"
"You have defended. Sven, Magda, Bech..."
"I killed people before I died."
"Then add about one third of those lives. You haven't murdered anyone." Her
eyes are soft, hands gently taking his and brushing the crusted blood from his
palms, some of it tumbles to the ground in pieces, but much of it stays stuck
in the spider's web lines on his hands, unwilling to drop to the ground like
dark red snowflakes, so she rises and fetches a wet cloth before returning to
wipe his hands down. "You have protected many."
His hands are clean but he's still trembling like a leaf. After a long moment
of deliberation, Renjin pulls him against her. "I know, Peya. I know." She
cradles him through the night as though he were a babe and lets him cry.
Sven pledges allegiance to him the next day but it'll be two weeks later that
he realizes Peya translates to "My child."
 
"Sit down," She tells them a day after they've returned from the Trading
Grounds.
Iiyo, who, strangely enough, is present instead of Roxoi, sits. Sven has been
sitting at the table since she realized she wasn't in trouble. Sorajin sits
beside her, but Takka frowns and Sanchu obviously wants to protest, Renjin is
persistent. "Please. Sit down."
When they do, Renjin paces the floor for a long moment before finally turning
towards them. "I'm pregnant."
Sanchu's hands come down on the table hard enough to shake it but as he moves
to stand, Takka claps a hand onto his shoulder and shoves him, none-too-gently,
back into his chair.
Iiyo seems to be the only calm one out of the three of them. "The healer said
that wasn't possible. Even Takka said-"
"We know what I said," Says Takka, tone peevish.
Sorajin raises his hand. "Can someone explain this to me?"
Renjin watches him for a moment, calculating, before sighing. "Some things I
have been through caused trauma to my body. The healers have told me that my
chances of conceiving were remarkably low. Half-Human children aren't rare
these days," She says, "but they are very difficult to achieve."
"We were never made to interbreed," Says Takka. "The only reason you see so
many Half-Breeds is that no Male from our Race can keep his pants on."
A million and one possibilities fly through his head and one of them, he hopes,
is his going back to his family. "So what does this mean for Sven and I?"
"Likely, nothing," Says Renjin. "Chances are high that I'll miscarry."
 
Fingering the Rosary Beads, at thirteen, Sorajin watches the man as he works
the lock. "You know that's the closet, right?"
The man's form tenses, hair standing on end, but he doesn't look back. "Were
you just going to watch me try to break out?"
"Yeah," Says Sorajin. And maybe he should be mad his newest retainer is trying
to desert him. Maybe he should be sad that this man is taking advantage of his
kindness.
But Sorajin knows that he's scared and angry and disoriented.
The man slowly turns to look at him then. "Who in the fuck locks their closet?"
His Master had specifically told him to keep anything particularly dangerous
out of this older man's grasp. He'd put his weapons in that closet. "Live with
Renjin long enough and you do irrational things." A measuring glance is given.
Sorajin leans back against the wall. "You don't have to believe me. But it's
completely true."
"You just like fucking with me."
"I'm abstinent, thank you."
The man's hackles rise, hands clenching and unclenching. "That's not cute." His
voice is deep and rough and hissed from clenched teeth.
Sorajin instantly feels guilty. "Sorry. Sorry. You're right. I should have
thought about it." At the startled, wide-eyed expression he receives, the Heir
says, "I'm just not used to you, yet. Please have patience."
 
Looking at Ranka, he's a little frustrated that only her eyes are visible.
While they're beautiful...
.... He wants to see her face.
But many of the women are covered and the men harass the women of Renjin's Clan
with no more than their eyes.
They're perverts, Sorajin thinks. Using the covers their women wear as an
excuse to make our women uncomfortable.
Tand gives Tishta as a sort of dowry and while that mildly bothers Sorajin,
what Renjin and Takka see as a real problem, is that Tand doesn't want Ranka
unveiled until after the marriage.
Renjin thinks that she's got her father's blood. That she isn't as beautiful,
strong, or able to bear as he promised.
Takka thinks she's just some slave he picked up.
After the wedding ceremony and the partying, Renjin wastes no time cornering
Ranka in a room with the Family and yanking off the Lai that covered her face
and hair.
And suddenly, Sorajin can't fathom why Tand would hide this woman's face.
Doesn't understand the way she pulls away from Renjin and cowers.
But Renjin and Takka are both furious.
Renjin's hands clench then release before clenching again."I'm going to kill
him," She says.
"I'll fetch Ranka," Says Takka through gritted teeth.
"Wait! Wait!" Says Sorajin. "She's not Ranka?"
"No." Renjin's gaze turns on the trembling girl then. "This is one of her
younger sisters."
"Punish Tand if you like but leave the oldest sister where she is."
Renjin throws her hands up. "Are you planning to just send these two home
then?"
"No," Says Sorajin. He can barely manage to look away from his wife to make eye
contact with his adoptive Mother. "I married her. I'm keeping her."
Takka steps towards him. "She is damaged goods, Sorajin. Used by how many men?
We simply don't know."
"And Ranka is probably 'Damaged goods' by this point too."
"Ranka has good standing. A reputation. Training!"
Sorajin's left hand swipes through the air, sparks shooting out of his
fingertips. Renjin's face twists briefly with what might be envy. "And we can't
change that? We're just going to cast her to the Jankets and never think of her
again?!"
Renjin and Sorajin stand off for some time before she brushes imaginary dirt
from her left shoulder with her right hand. "Fine. You married her. You keep
her. And you make her worthy to lead."
"Thank you, Mistress Renjin."
"'Mistress.' Fucking molk," She says.
The Matriarch brushes past the girl, Takka follows. And Sorajin's wife cowers
under Takka's cold gaze.
The door slides shut, rather forcefully, and then he's alone with his new wife.
"I'm sorry," She says. "I thought my life would get easier if I did this."
He is disappointed that he's been lied to. A little mad that he's probably been
cheated. But he can't send her back. It would be wrong and that wasn't what his
Mother taught him about marriage, even though his Mother married a lot younger
than he did. Many people in his village were married for things other than love
and those marriages were, sometimes, the most beautiful he'd seen.
He just hopes he can learn to love her.
"I'm Sorajin."
"Ruuka, my lord."
Already out to an awkward start, He thinks. It can only get better from here.
 
Lying side-by-side in the dark, her soft breath betrays that she's still awake.
"What is it you think about?"
There's another few moments of silence before she says, "What if I don't have
anything to give you?"
He wracks his brain, not only for the answer, but what she means and where the
question comes from. She likely isn't a virgin, and after some thinking,
Sorajin realizes he isn't really either. So it's an even field. Unless she'd
frigid. Which is a possibility. That makes things more complicated.
"All I ask," He whispers, "is that you try."
Her body shifts onto its side, green eyes meet his. He lies on his back, head
turned towards her. Their world drops into darkness for a brief second when she
blinks and, finally, he rolls onto his side to face her. "And I will lay down
my life for you."
 
The first time they ever have a real intimate moment, they've narrowly escaped
a Jankets. Barely making it out alive. They'd been good friends for nearly
eight months. But when she looks at him, grinning and trying to catch her
breath, he can't help himself.
His fingertips brush her hair out of her face. And she darts in and melds her
mouth against his.
One of the best moments of his life.
Neither of them can stop smiling at each other like idiots for the rest of the
day. He doesn't love her yet.
But he thinks that he'll be able to soon.
 
At thirteen months, she throws him over her shoulder and laughs girlishly at
his stunned look, dirt and dust billowing from where he hit the earth.
And, silhouetted by the early morning sun, she looks like a goddess.
She stops laughing when she sees the way he's looking at her and kneels above
his head, expression surprised, wisps of hair framing her face.
His hands reach up to cradle the curves of her jaw and bid her downwards to
him. He must have looked fierce, though, because of the hesitant way her mouth
brushed his.
He isn't really sure how they end up sprawled with skin on skin, her head on
his chest. But Ruuka is fine with it.
Nothing is better than this, He thinks.
 
The regret he feels about Kieve, Ruuka tries to assuage. She doesn't try to
minimize it or tell him he should get over it. She wants him to know that it
gets easier. That Kieve made his choices and some times, one can't save
everyone.
Sorajin clings to the knowledge that maybe Kieve died doing the right thing. He
wishes he knew though. Wonders what would have happened if he'd have trusted
the Tarshish.
 
The first time he realizes the real meaning of the name Renjin gave to him,
it's after Ma'hale fired his gun and killed him.
Sorajin knows he died because Renjin is sitting next to him, staring off into
space. She was waiting for him.
If he had been merely unconscious, he'd still have this horrible ache in his
head.
But she would have man-handled him back to the Temple.
"I'm sorry I got you killed." She says.
"I'm sorry you didn't tell him the truth."
She tenses, glances at him, eyes half-mast in annoyance. Sorajin knows she's
really trying to mask her confusion and fear that he knows what she's hiding.
He doesn't. But he can still use doublespeak and hope she'll let something
slip.
Every word is weighed when she says, "Some things are better left unsaid."
No matter how he approaches her on it, she refuses to elaborate.
 
It's a regular day, get up and train, have breakfast with the family, talk
about plans. Sorajin helps build more houses and do what needs done in the
fields. Ruuka and Sven accompany him.
The twins, ten now, work on schooling and intense training.
But before he can make it out to the fields, something huge flies overhead.
Sorajin has only ever seen them crash.
This one lands, gracefully, in the center of the island.
On the No-Go Zone.
It's not that anything is wrong with it, Sorajin knows. But, according to most,
bad things have happened in that building.
Some even claim it's haunted.
And while Sorajin, is religious, (Which is hard with an Atheist Master, mind
you. Sanchu is more agnostic. So their ideals match little better than his with
Renjin's,) he doesn't particularly believe in ghosts. He believes in demons. He
believes in angels.
But, he finds spirits a little far-fetched.
He still gets chills when they go around the facility. Something is wrong
there.
And then he sees Renjin taking off towards them in war gear. Sorajin drops his
sickle and basket and beats a dead run.
Sven and Ruuka, behind him, pestering him with questions.
"What is it?" He asks Renjin when he catches up.
"Humans," She says, eyes straight ahead. "And they have weapons we can use."
Sorajin throws himself against her and they roll several feet as a heap of
limbs and aggression. Renjin shoves him to the dirt. "What are you doing,
brat?"
Trying to hit her while he's pinned proves to be a bad idea. "You aren't going
to ask nicely for everything they have and then some."
"Of course I'm not." She sounds as though she's just going to pick some fruit.
Like she isn't about to shake down some unsuspecting, innocent people.
She shifts to her feet and Sorajin swipes them out from under her. "I can't let
you."
She lands on him and knocks the air out of him with her weight. Her fist cracks
into his jaw. "I'm not playing with you. If I don't do this, some one else will
and I can't risk anyone having a one-up on us again."
The pain leaves him stunned long enough that when he can focus again, she's on
her feet.
He rolls and shoots forward, trying to keep ahead of her. Ruuka stands, arms
folded and head shaking, but does not pursue.
Sven, in bear form, charges up beside him, then twists back to her bipedal
form. Sorajin takes a brief half-second to marvel at how seamless the
transformation always is.
When coming upon a fallen tree trunk, Sorajin is forced to partially climb it.
Renjin's hand smacks onto the bark as she catapults herself over.
Sorajin, envious of her abilities and irked by her determination, gives her
(slightly weaker) right leg a rough shove when it's in striking distance.
Instead of landing smoothly, she staggers and it gives him a few scant seconds.
Sven leaps the downed tree like a small puddle.
It's times like this that Sorajin hates his own handicaps. "Commander Sven!"
She catches up to him, both still charging ahead at a dead sprint.
And while Sorajin can keep up longer than Renjin, he needs to be able to handle
whatever he's walking into.
Or running into, more accurately.
"Yes, Master Sorajin?" Asks Sven between breaths.
"You know how we've all talked about the fact that Renjin and I are part of two
different regimes?" At her quizzical look and slow nod, he says, "We've already
discussed that you can only be loyal to one. It's time for you to choose now."
At Sven's shaken look, he offers a half-smile. "You're the tipping point
between who is going to reach these Mainlanders first, Commander."
She looks conflicted for two - three - four - more paces before skidding,
kicking up rocks and dirt, and turning to face Renjin.
"I'm sorry, Mistress!"
Renjin's surprise only lasts for a moment. And Sven won't be able to hold her
off for very long.
But it's enough.
"Just you wait til I get my hands on you!" Screams Renjin behind him in such a
fury, Sorajin is pretty sure she's going to kill him for real. "You're going to
curse your mother for birthing you!"
Sorajin doesn't even look back, she'll catch up soon enough. Vines tangle with
his limbs, twigs snap-crackle and twang as he races through the thick forest.
 
By the time he's there, it's dark and he's easing out of an old, rusted airduct
onto a creaky wooden shelf, his knee shifts just the wrong way and a box full
of cans clatters to the floor.
Cursing himself, he drops the the floor and, unable to tolerate the mess,
starts putting the cans back into the box.
"Hello?" Says a woman. But the word she uses takes Sorajin back to the language
his Father taught his Mom and himself before passing from an infected wound
that didn't heal properly.
"Is some one there?" She asks and Sorajin ducks under the counter as a beam of
light hits the beige wall behind him.
Slinking around the counter as hesitant steps trail to the side he was on
before, he positions himself and observes her.
She's slight, short blond hair and an anxious posture. There's something that
looks suspiciously like metal, too.
Then she tenses. Whipping around before Sorajin can do anything but stare at
her.
She screams and he does the only thing he can think of to prove he means no
harm, leather clad hands spring up in front of his own chest. "Wait!"
But he knows it's too late because she's already pointed her firearm at him.
And he wishes he'd broken her neck instead when she immediately pulls the
trigger.
Chapter End Notes
     And this concludes TtIW...
     This means I'll probably do other one-shots from time to time.
     I'll also focus on Neighborhood Watch, too! Haha...
     Thanks for taking the journey with me!
     Til next time!
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