BlackRosesPastandPresent

Rhion remembers his first lover, in contemplating his new one. Damian reveals his plans.

He actually lay there for a few seconds, stunned at the force of his orgasm. Until the strangely weak but very profane remarks of the boy he was holding in a death grip finally bled through,

He released De in confusion and some embarrassment. Falling away from him and pulling out of his body in the same move as he managed to sit up with a great deal of splashing and huffing. All his anger was bled away, but he wasn't sure if this new feeling was any better.

What the hell had come over him? He'd never felt anything like that in his life!

Not even with Kef, his trainer, and his first serious lover. Not the first or last time he'd thought of that arrogant bastard in the last years despite all his efforts to forget, but never had he compared him with anyone before.

Now he stared in guilty embarrassment at the fragile-looking, dark-haired boy slowly pulling himself to a sitting position. What the hell had come over him?

And why the hell had it reminded him of Kef? They were nothing alike, this boy and the mocking ghost from his past.

Rhion watched De carefully to make sure he was all right. How the hell could he have fought so hard to begin with? He looked sick as a drowned pup. But still very beautiful even in his drenched and pale-faced state.

Unwillingly, Rhion felt his mind going back to the past, on a wave of shame and sheer loneliness. Feelings that were alien to his essentially cheerful nature, but no man was ever all one neat package no matter how hard the world tried to bundle him up for neatness' sake.

And even if you can control your façade, Kef, how the hell do you control your brain?

He'd been sixteen then, more awkward than he could now believe. Useless as both lover and warrior, though like all teen-agers he had smugly believed himself talented in both fields of endeavor.

Kef had shown him different.

Like most members of a noble house, Rhion had started training in warcraft and arms at a very young age. By the time he had entered his teens, his trainers had generally been large, grim men. All muscles and attitude, skilled enough but rough and tumble really. He was always a strong boy, and as he advanced sometimes he could win approval from these powerhouses by the sheer force of his attack.

He'd been getting arrogant, overpowering those of his age group. Hell, overpowering boys BEYOND his age group. He'd been feeling like a pretty formidable warrior, at sixteen.

And then he'd met his new instructor. It had seemed like nothing but coincidence, at the time.

His older brother brought the odd-looking person to the training grounds, and hadn't Antonio smiled wickedly behind his hand as he'd introduced the foreigner? Not just to Rhion; hell, to the whole group of them, overgrown arrogant boys that they all were. It was time for them to learn something besides how to bludgeon each other senseless. It was time they learned some----technique. Rhion's older brother had stated this opinion in a dry, amused tone that worried the boy for some reason.

Technique? Ha! The bunch of them hadn't been terribly impressed at the idea. They'd taken a scornful measuring of the slim, green-eyed trainer, who seemed no older than they were themselves. In fact he appeared younger, since most of his students were both larger and stronger-looking. Kef wasn't really small, but he was trimly built rather than muscular, and only a shade over average in height. Except for his beauty he seemed rather unimposing really, in a world where size denoted power. His leathers were colorful, a mottled green, and too light to offer much protection; seemed more designed to show off his body. And it was a very attractive body, no doubt, but certainly not that of a warrior!

The lean flame-haired man seemed to know what the guffawing boys were thinking instantly. He stepped right up after being presented, eyed them somewhat sarcastically, and invited all those who wished to get their asses kicked to come on forward.

Even when brazenly challenging them, he looked far more like a damned sex toy than the dangerous person he really was. And Delios had been brave----or brainless----enough to give voice to what they most all thought at the time.

"This pretty girl is gonna train US? Kick OUR asses? Ha, I can think of better ways than battle-training for you to damage that sweet rump, Red!"

Delios grinned at the new trainer lewdly, dropping a meaty hand to rub suggestively at his crotch just in case his remark had been too subtle for the fellow to catch. He was the biggest of the students, musclebound but handsome, a good instinctive fighter but not overly burdened with intelligence. Or so Rhion decided, as he watched the foreign trainer's cool smile. There was no hint of either fear or insult on his slightly pointed, exotic face as he motioned Delios forward.

Rhion, for some strange reason, hadn't piped up right away. He was often just as reckless as his big, dim-witted friend, but this time something gave him pause.

He'd just watched with interest, a slowly growing respect, as this slim and beautiful being proceeded to methodically destroy first Delios, then each and every one of the young fools who dared to challenge him.

He did it with speed and dexterity rather than power, a crisp matter-of-fact economy of movement that made Rhion gasp. Yet somehow, he had no doubt that if strength had become an issue, this one would have scythed through every one of them just as quickly.

He couldn't avoid going at it with the fellow, of course, though he managed to hold off till the last. Then he'd swallowed and stepped forward, intrigued to death, scared out of his wits.

The slender young man had studied him, tilted his head with a kind of feral mockery. "Scared, boy? You look a shade pale, I'm thinking.'"

The man had probably been expecting a hearty, idiotic "Hell no!" from someone who looked like Rhion. Had seemed surprised when the boy burst out honestly, "Yes, damn you! Scared shitless! So let's get this over with?"

His candor had won him an intrigued glance. A faint, approving smile. As well as one of the worst beatings of his young life. Certainly the quickest, at any rate.

Oh, he hadn't been timid or held back despite his real fear of injury. Had even catalogued some of the man's moves against his fellows, tried to work out ways to counter them. Blunderingly attempted to try some of those tricks against their originator.

Kef danced aside from everything, regular blows and Rhion's labored attempts to use his own moves against him as well. And somehow, Kef managed in his evasive maneuvers to smack the boy's head several times until his ears rang like dinner gongs. Then deliver a blow to his stomach that knocked the wind clean out of him for a minute----how the hell could such a decorative bastard hit so hard!? And while Rhion was gasping from surprise as much as pain, a sweeping kick from a seemingly impossible angle caught him behind his knees and landed him hard right on his ass.

He sat there groaning, feeling like his own horse's hind end, while his treacherous fellow students brayed with laughter. As if all of them hadn't gone down even harder and quicker! It had taken the foreign dog less than three minutes to utterly humiliate him, and he hadn't even broken a sweat doing it.

"You are soft," the redhead stated offensively, folding his arms over his relatively puny chest and staring down at the husky, glaring teenager sternly. And then, as Rhion opened his mouth to snap back, his trainer had smiled at him unexpectedly.

It was an utterly bewitching expression, full of mischief and magic. Kef's eyes were suddenly dancing, and the boy was helpless to look away from them. It was if those extremely green eyes contained the answer to every question he'd ever asked. "But not utterly hopeless, I think. You are possibly teachable."

And then he had left the training area without a backward glance. Rhion remained sprawled on the grass with his mouth drooping open and a strange, indefinable warmth crawling through his body.

The training had continued for some weeks. Hand-to-hand and tumbling were interspersed with instruction in knives, small swords, and various long-range weapons. Kef was a master of all of them, and although he was an excellent teacher he certainly couldn't be called an easy one. There were times Rhion fell into bed immediately after practice, sore and exhausted, and to hell with dinner.

Of course, they sparred with different trainers as well as each other. If he hadn't been in a constant state of exhaustion from trying to keep up with his new teacher's energetic ideas of what constituted a lesson, Rhion might have noticed that he gradually began winning far more often at these bouts. He was even holding his own now with most of his instructors, at least part of the time.

And then the immense half-demon instructor Moon Ripper just had to challenge Kef to a one-on-one match.

The hulking 'breed wasn't as stupid as his brutal features might lead one to believe. In fact he was faster on his feet than he looked, a formidable creature and an axe-wielder of no little talent. But his arrogance outweighed even his ability, and he was frankly resentful of this newcomer, with his smart mouth and tricky battle methods.

Aside from that fact, he was bitterly jealous. He'd been dropping not-so-subtle hints to Antonio's young and increasingly eye-catching brother for weeks now and gotten nowhere. Rhion, not used to considering himself attractive, didn't have a clue that his axe-trainer was interested in him beyond the practice field.

Not that Moon Ripper would have believed that. Not considering the way the boy followed that fancy-dancy redhead with his eyes, practically drooling the fool was at times!

So Moon Ripper had challenged Kef right in front of the boy, deliberately between sessions so the foreigner would be less than fresh. And then attacked unexpectedly, when the startled redhead dared to laugh and refuse.

It was just Rhion's bad luck that things didn't quite go as the demon expected. And oh, that the boy had the poor judgment to cheer when Kef---admittedly after taking a few glancing but painful hits himself---had turned loose the full arsenal of his skills on the mountainous axeman to finally bring him crashing dazed to the floor.

Moon Ripper had recovered, and grimly acknowledged the panting Kef's victory. The redhead had bowed with silent sarcasm, and left. Possibly to treat his own injuries; even for Kef, the half-breed had been no quick victory.

Rhion then made his second blunder. He'd suggested to Moon Ripper that perhaps they should skip that day's axe training session, since his instructor had just had his butt kicked by a man approximately a third his size.

No, he hadn't been stupid enough to phrase it like that. But that was how the mortified teacher had taken it. And in his rage Moon Ripper had forgotten all about his plans to seduce the young boy. Instead, he decided to beat the crap out of him.

Rhion had little memory of anything after that. There had been yelling, from both him and Moon Ripper. Pain---one fuck of a lot of pain!---before a milling group of people, including his older brother, he thought, had pulled the maddened giant off of him. "He's still mortal, you bastard!" he remembered someone shouting, just before his skull hit the floor and the world dissolved into lashing flares of crimson, and then blackness.

He'd come awake in his own bed, in near-darkness. His head ached horribly, and for a moment he remembered nothing. Then, he remembered everything, and started to sit up in confusion. Because really, every part of him should have been in agony. Not just his throbbing head.

He'd been pushed back into the covers gently. "Relax, foolish one, I haven't finished," a light and amused voice whispered, so close to him his whole body flushed.

"Lord Kef!" he'd managed to stammer. "What're you----"

"Doing here? Fixing the damage that Neanderthal inflicted." Kef's voice had changed to hard and angry, with no trace of the sharp amusement that always seemed to lurk there in his silver tones. In fact, that voice was more steel than silver now, cold and deadly

"And if your brother hadn't already sent the bastard packing----I would have killed him by now. Be still." Gentle fingers, cool as flowing water, slipped to his forehead and rested there. Rhion let out a sigh, grew utterly motionless as the pain in his skull drained gradually away, leaving his head actually feeling a bit light and dizzy.

He wasn't sure where this feeling of confusion was coming from, now that his head felt so much better. From Kef sitting on his bed, so very close beside him perhaps? But they'd been closer when wrestling, though of course he hadn't been totally naked at those times----ah, shit! Naked!

The strange flush of heat all through his body, though; that had been the same. He fumbled for his furs, which had been tossed aside. Perhaps so Kef could do his healing trick on the rest of him? The thought of his trainer's elegant hands flowing over his bare skin as he lay unconscious sent a jolt of pure terror through him.

At least, he thought it was terror. He had never in his life experienced another feeling intense enough to compare it to.

"You're a healer?" he mumbled. It was a stupid question, voiced only to give him a moment to get a grip on his scattered, flailing emotions. Which were now bouncing around in him like leaves in a windstorm, as he felt Kef move even closer.

"Very perceptive, Rhion-kun," Kef said, and now the laugh was back in his voice. His long cool fingers swept the boy's forehead negligently, as if there were still pain to be dispersed. "But why are you shaking? Do you hurt, somewhere still?"

"Nn-n-n-no!" He was lying. Something ached immensely in fact, but it sure as hell wasn't an injury! Thank the gods the light was dim, and Kef couldn't see his face at this moment. He didn't know why this was happening, dammit----

That was a lie. He might have been sixteen, but he was far from an idiot. And being sixteen he'd felt lust before, and in a house full of servants he'd had no trouble satisfying it either. But never like this, and for his trainer, a man deserving of his esteem and respect only! Part of the heat in his body was sheer embarrassment. How Kef would laugh, if he knew! Why didn't he leave, dammit, his talent at healing was proven, Rhion couldn't have felt any healthier on the best day of his life!

Why doesn't he stop touching me, at least? I can't stand this much longer, I can't----

With a merciless softness, the barely visible torturer drew his fingertips down Rhion's face, cupped his chin briefly, almost affectionately. Then his touch wandered downward. Magic fires slid down his throat, burned his collarbone in four white-hot grooves.

"Stop," he whispered hopelessly, knowing if that contact ventured any lower he was doomed. "I---don't know why you're---doing this---but please just----stop."

The light touch paused for a beat, though it didn't vanish. The fingers lurked just above his left nipple, cool flame on his flesh. Kef chuckled softly. "Why stop?" he asked, in a tone between reasonable and mildly insulted. "Don't you like it, Rhion-kun?" The voice went velvet then, smoky and somehow intense. "I thought at least you liked me. The way you watch me sometimes, little one----"

Like! What he felt was so far beyond "like" he couldn't think of a phrase to explain it, so he said nothing. Just sat there for a moment breathing like a bellows, like a damn virgin fool, his whole being focused on the motionless feather-soft weight of fingers on his chest.

He wasn't surprised when Kef chuckled again, but the sound unloosed his tongue. Not to mention being called "little one" by someone smaller than himself! This could be nothing but contempt for him. And it hurt.

"You---you're just playing. You can't want---me. You could have anybody! And I may be young and stupid, a clumsy ox as you've called me in practice, but I won't be played with like this. Not even by you!"

There was a long, simmering silence. And to his relief and disappointment, that light touch was withdrawn, and his trainer's weight lifted from the bed.

He bit back an actual whimper of distressed apology, waited for the sound of the door being opened and closed. Instead, Kef murmured something in another language, and Rhion was blinking as a wall-candle flared. The light seemed both more mellow and more revealing than was common, although its light fell on him only, of course. Kef was a dark silhouette, a black silk shadow as he quietly returned to the bed. But Rhion could feel the very green eyes touching him, and he swallowed.

It was a foolish thing, to make your trainer in arms angry. A damned foolish and dangerous thing. He should have just accepted the mocking touches, dammit! And then gotten himself off in private, when the bastard left after humiliating him enough. Now after healing him, Kef would likely render him a worse beating than Moon Ripper could even contemplate.

He set his jaw, and grimly prepared for it.

"You need to lighten up, Rhion-kun. How old must you pretend to be, at sixteen? And what is wrong, with 'playing?' Indeed perhaps I play with you, but that is not the same as 'mocking' you. I rather expected you to play back. I am disappointed."

He had never heard Kef speak in such a serious tone, without a tinge of mockery. And damned if the trainer didn't settle on the bed comfortably beside him, drape a long arm over his shoulders, and snuggle in as comfortably as if they had been touching on a regular basis as a casual thing.

"Play---back?" he stammered. The half-hopeful tone of his voice shamed him, but he was a little beyond caring at this point. "But you can't----"

"Want you? I forgot how you think of yourself, Rhion-kun. You compare yourself with the delicate, pretty boys around here and think the difference is against you. You are balanced on the knife-edge of splendid beauty and only discerning beings like myself can see it."

To Rhion's utter astonishment, there was a light, flirting kiss to the tip of his nose. He would have been less flabbergasted if Kef had suddenly grabbed his dick! He wasn't the sort of person that got flirted with! Not that he disliked it----not that he disliked what Kef had said to him, or the sudden soft rain of kisses on his face like flowers of flame.

Or the unimaginable reality of those long, clever fingers slipping beneath the furs and actually really doing---uh---what he'd thought about. Though in a swirling, bewitching way that "grabbed" really didn't cover.

"If you don't want this, say so now." As if he could let out a peep that wasn't a groan, being fondled in such a manner! "I won't lie to you, boy; this is sex not love, though I like you well. And want you very much indeed. But I will also warn you---I am no easier a lover than I am a teacher. If we share this, you'll know me as master still. Your size and your high birth means nothing to me."

Dimly, through the storm of raw sensation, Rhion felt his ear being nibbled, lightly but with hunger. "But you will learn a great deal, I promise you. You have huge potential!" Now Kef was teasing again, but this time he wasn't insulted. Feel a shudder of pride along with the other feelings that came with being stroked so admiringly. "So will you play, Rhion-kun?? With me? For a little while?"

From somewhere, Rhion recovered enough of his memory of speech to stammer out, "Long as you want. Kef. Master Kef?" The last words came out in a gasp as those fingers caressed a spot so sensitive he nearly exploded all over the bed.

"Good boy," his trainer whispered softly. "Fast learner. Intelligence in a lover is highly under-rated, but I find it remarkably sexy."

He pulled away from the dazzled and shivering boy, but only enough to begin shedding his own clothes swiftly. And now there was a fire in those jewel-green eyes that if seen on the battle-ground would have frightened Rhion senseless.

And so began a period of Rhion's life that he would consider the strangest and most erotic thing that had ever happened to him. Until Damian came into his world, at least.

If he'd assumed that becoming Kef's lover would make his life easier in the arms training which made up more than half of his daily life, that idea would have vanished the very next day after their first ardent coupling.

Of course, being just as intelligent as he was given credit for, he hadn't assumed any such thing. And in truth, his close friends actually began to grumble during the following weeks, about how ruthlessly their damn foreign trainer treated Rhion in the barracks.

"It doesn't matter! I can take it!" he'd barked at them. Earning points for fortitude if nothing else. Well, what should he do? Tell them how aroused he became, after a brutal session that whispered to him of what he would find waiting at home later that night? Explain that they were damn lucky he didn't give them a show in the training room, fall to his knees and beg that fire-haired devil to take him right then and there?

He was captured, enraptured, totally hooked. Slave and student both, learning and giving, possessed and driven. Would have sold his very soul to please Kef, and both of them knew it.

He had over a year of this, intense training in both weapons and intimacy. At first, he was constantly worn out, though blissfully happy.

And it wasn't always such hard work. Kef was many things, but consistent was not one of them. Especially in loving.

Rhion had acknowledged Kef as his master. Yet for a good time after he did so, there was only pleasure-sharing. Kef had taught him, in one dizzying, life-altering night, how to share pleasures, as opposed to just animalistic fucking. And then followed the lesson through for as long as it took Rhion to become dazed, complacent, drop his guard.

The animalistic fucking---well, that had come next. And though unexpected, violent, and somewhat frightening, it had also been very, very good.

The crafty, almost mathematically cruel bondage scene had followed. Rhion had really feared for his life at several points. For his pride, far more often. Because mainly in that part of their----well, could he even name it a relationship?----he had felt horribly out of his depth as far as *imagination* went.

But good? It had been more than simply good. It had altered his world again. He'd always been the one tied or blindfolded, thrown to the bed's softness or the floor's stone harshness. And yet he hadn't felt diminished at all. Exalted rather, with his remaining senses heightened to appreciate fully what Kef would give him or take from him.

Without realizing it, he was learning to become even better as a lover than he was a warrior. Training in sex was not such a chore! He even forgot that it really was training. Until a few weeks after his seventeenth birthday, when his life altered yet again.

Antonio had given him the oddest and most gentle of smiles, when he'd first nervously requested that his meals be sent to his rooms after training. Oh, and in double portions, learning to become a warrior made one extremely hungry! More wine, too, please, and---doubles of the sugared almonds!

His brother had eyed him. "Sugared almonds. You never liked those before."

Rhion gave him a pasty, uncertain smile. "One's sweet tooth advances."

"Something advances." Antonio patted his shoulder, lightly. "Never fear, appearing at the dinner table is not a requirement here. Especially not at your age. Sugared almonds. Perhaps some flavored coffees and brandy as well?"

Rhion simply stared. That would have been his next request, and damned if he'd figured out how to put it.

"Go play,' he brother said kindly. "You will have little enough time to do so, in this world. Make the most of it."

Kef was laughing at him, as usual. He had been jumped the moment he entered his own rooms. A soft, tender 'thank you' for the weekly gift of sweets. Lush hot kiss, tongue in his mouth tasting already of the flavored coffee and the disgusting almonds.

He'd enjoyed the softness, but assumed it would resume maybe in a different way. Cords around his wrists or throat or ankles. Leather blindfolds, velvet-lined cuffs. Kisses turning into bites, embraces into captivity.

Or maybe he would be held and kissed and tasted only, until all the languid teasing nudged him into slow, voluptuous, velvet-thick release. Or he would kneel to give the same unhurried pleasure to his lover, at one soft growl of command.

He was used to anything now. Frankly, he was waiting for whatever happened with equal anticipation. Wanted any or all of it, so hard he was aching.

It seemed strange, when his demanding lover merely crawled into his lap and continued

kissing him almost gently. He certainly didn't fight, he had learned to enjoy only what Kef desired. Live for that desire, a gasping, willing prey. He didn't understand, until Kef whispered softly into his ear.

"Sweet boy. Your turn. Show me what you've learned."

"Show me. Take me." The purring sweet creature in his arms seemed half sad, and hiding it.

He was no fool. He understood.

Kef would only offer himself completely, if he was finally leaving.

And Rhion took what was offered, quietly, nearly gently. Not revealing, except perhaps by his unusual silence, how badly he was hurt. The red-haired foreigner had taught him much, between the opposite poles of loving and fighting. And one thing he had been insistent upon, was that Rhion learn to not reveal everything he felt.

"How can I know your world better than yourself, fool of a boy? I will not have you shame me this way, letting your guts hang out for all to see! Even if this were a kind world it would be foolish, and kind it is not. If you wish to live long enough to gain your immortality you will learn to control your feelings, at least on the outside."

And since the price of it was Kef's affection, Rhion had learned. It was not easy for him; he was a warm and exuberant boy by nature. And far too honest for his own good, according to his new lover. Honesty was all very well, but like all things it must be disciplined. He needn't blurt out his business to everyone, to prove how truthful he was!

In fact he owed total sincerity only to himself, his family perhaps. And of course to Kef, though he would wait to be asked, please, not divulge his opinions harum-scarum! He was student here not teacher, and too damned inexperienced to even have an interesting thought as yet.

Antonio watched from a polite distance, a bit unhappily, as his little brother slowly changed over the months. Kef did his job chillingly well. From a cheerfully clumsy, friendly puppy of a boy, Rhion became a calm-eyed warrior who watched everything carefully, gave away almost nothing. It saddened Antonio, truly, but it was what he had requested after all. Not that Rhion become different within himself. Just that he should hide that self better, lest it be taken advantage of.

"You were not required to become his lover, Gatewalker," he observed to his friend rather brusquely just a few days after it had happened. "And you damn well better not try to charge me extra for it!"

Kef's eyes had merely danced. "It is---how to put it?---a job perk, nothing more. Our original agreement stands. Or perhaps I should pay you? Far is it, from an unpleasant task."

Antonio was only slightly amused. "I'd rather you hadn't started that task, honestly."

"Jealous, my friend?" Kef was grinning now, the sharp white teeth an almost cruel glitter against his rich golden skin.

Antonio shuddered, perhaps too elaborately. "Hardly, arrogant one! I know what trouble it would be to keep you, even aside from the expense involved. But my little brother feels things deeply, although thanks to you I admit he's learned not to show this. I don't want him hurt through caring too much for someone like you, Intyrekef."

He said this as sternly as possible, and his friend nodded and shrugged at the same time. "This too is part of life. But I will be careful, not to break him. Though scratched he may be, a little."

They were in Antonio's private gardens, the remains of lunch before them. Kef smiled sweetly at his employer's stern look, and arose, stretching like a cat in the sun. "If I talk much longer I will be late for 'lessons'. And tutoring the remainder of these clowns disguised as thinking humans is NOT a joy."

"Well, I didn't want Rhion knowing you were here only to teach him. It would make him self-conscious. Although now that you've decided to seduce the boy I don't see how it matters!"

Kef interrupted the scold, laughing as he snatched a last piece of fruit from the table. "But what a man I shall make of him, my friend! The world is not limited to sword thrusts and tactics. He will require other things, to live through what will come to him. And it's my pleasure in this case, to provide the teaching."

Antonio studied him thoughtfully. "I wondered, at first, why you agreed to do this for me. I knew it was not all friendship, and you don't really need the money either. And now---I begin to wonder what you know about Rhion. What you guess, that I do not?"

Kef smiled, leaned quickly, and hugged his friend with quick and graceful affection. "You worry too much as is usual. I won't hurt him any more than necessary for his growth. And you should realize by now----"

"That you know everything," Antonio finished, perhaps a little sarcastically.

Kef stopped, and gazed at him. His smile faded. "It is true," he said softly, and the head of the Carlondays studied him keenly.

"Tell me," he said quietly, and the red-haired man met his demanding eyes unflinchingly.

"No," he said, quite simply and without any special inflection. "You are my friend."

Decisively, then, he left. Leaving Antonio with a thousand other questions he realized would never be answered, or even acknowledged.

Now, Rhion wondered why the hell he'd thought of Kef. Why possessing De had somehow reminded him both of his complicated ex-lover, and their strangely tender last night together.

For one thing, there had been nothing gentle about what he'd just done with Damian. Although it had been every bit as intense as his joinings with Kef, it was just bodies dammit!

De was nothing like Kef, not the smallest bit---- Kef, whom he could so easily have fallen in love with if it had been allowed---

"This is sex, not love," that bastard had told him. So flat and unfeeling it was close to an order. And before Rhion could be truly hurt, that strange exotic smile had flicked on the golden face. "Love you will have," he'd promised softly. "Just not with me. Not in this life, Rhion-kun."

Beautiful, and powerful---and lonely. Both of them.

What an odd thought to be having. This boy now sneezing as he flailed out of the water was certainly lovely, but powerful? Vicious and well-trained in battle, yes, deadly for his small size. But powerful in himself, as Kef had been? Truly, Rhion admitted he didn't really know Damian well enough to be sure about that one.

That didn't stop you having him did it? His inner voice was scornful, and he tried to block it out by allowing his odd thoughts to continue rambling.

Lonely, well, he could believe that of Damian. Though he doubted the boy ever would admit to feeling such a thing. But Kef, lonely? He had been an unrepentant tease, strong and smug and so damn sure of himself you sometimes wanted to strike him in that beautiful uncaring face----

Rhion tore his thoughts from Kef to deal with the present as he realized that De was actually shivering. And he'd ripped the lad's shirt to shreds during that wave of lusting anger. Oh, he was quite a nice fellow, all right!

Shame replaced all other feelings. Rhion slowly rose, then reached down to offer a hand up to the other boy. He was studied almost clinically, and for a moment he was sure that Damian would spit on his attempted assistance. Then an odd smile touched the pale lips, and the dark-haired boy reached up and gripped Rhion's hand. Firmly, but without a great deal of energy, Rhion thought.

"Couldn't you hit me any harder?" Damian said almost conversationally when he was more or less upright. "You ARE a wimp."

He swayed on his feet before Rhion could even think of a comeback, and the older boy was forced to grab him lest he pitch back into the shallow water. "Okay, I'll admit it--- maybe you hit me hard enough--- maybe." Damian actually laughed then, a little shakily, almost nervously, as he was held upright by Rhion's strong grip.

Strangely enough the light laughter kind of reminded Rhion of those awkward first dates, the ones where no one knew exactly what to say or even really how to respond, perhaps a little afraid of revealing their true selves too soon and being rejected because of it.

"Come on, let's get outta this water, you may not mind being wet but I'm not really too fond of it personally."

Damian started to move away from him then despite the obvious fact that he was inevitably going to end up flat on his face in the shallow water without physical assistance. And sure enough his ankle nearly folded, and he would have gone down if the older boy hadn't been right there, ready for him.

For a split second De seemed uneasy at Rhion's closeness but it passed so fast that Rhion could have easily believed he imagined it. "Well, guess walking is just not an option for me. " De paused, seemed to consider his situation before looking toward the beach intently. "Would you---ah----" De's hesitant words halted abruptly and he actually had to take a moment to clear his throat. "Since you're here, I mean---or not---never mind, I'm tired, my brain's just not working at the moment." It sounded as though he'd just asked Rhion to chop off his own arm or something and was feeling rather guilty for having even considered it.

De adjusted his footing, began to pull away for the second time. "The sun will be up before long, you should probably head back to camp. Get you some dry clothes or something, I need to sit down for a few minutes." What did Damian intend to do? Just sit down right here in this water and wait till he gathered enough strength to crawl to the beach?

Rhion made a small, exasperated sound to cover his sudden concern. "Don't be foolish. Here." Before Damian could protest, he was scooped up in strong but careful arms. He did make some kind of sound, but Rhion ignored it. Pulling the boy closer to his chest, one arm securely under his thighs, the other cradling his back. "No struggling," he warned gruffly. "Or I'll just throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes!"

Amazingly enough, there was no argument. Damian studied him warily, then let his eyes slide closed almost in resignation, his head dropping to Rhion's chest as if he really had no choice in the matter. Then he sighed lightly, as if almost surprised to be so comfortable there, and seemed to fall instantly asleep.

He was so damn light! He weighed almost nothing. Rhion felt a small clench in his heart and snorted disgustedly at himself as he stalked toward the beach, where he had left his pack on some higher ground. Once he had realized that he would have to track the stupid little snot on foot, he had bundled up a few things; he wished now he'd brought extra clothing as well. But how was he to foresee that the brat would wander so far? Or that they would end up, um, naked, and with wet clothes?

Well, at least he'd packed tools for fire-making, and there was plenty of driftwood on the beach. And though he'd only had room in the makeshift bundle for his own bedding, if they slept close they could manage. And keep warmer, too. He wouldn't want to risk a very large fire, just enough to dry their clothes----

He felt his face burn. Like it or not, his body still tingled from the sex, and the thought of sleeping closely snuggled up with this boy was actually arousing him again. What the fuck, he liked sex as much as anyone permanently stuck at the age of nineteen was bound to do. But Damian was ill---through his own stupidity, admittedly, but that made no difference, dammit!

I shouldn't have touched him in the first place!

And I still don't know why I did. I don't even think I like the little bastard!

Grumbling, Rhion gently settled the lad onto the soft, cream-colored sand. Damian's eyelids flickered lightly when he was released, but he simply sighed and curled up into a ball like a tired puppy right on the beach. As if he supposed the other boy was simply going to leave him abandoned there, and was silently accepting the fact.

Rhion shook his head and began to walk back to gather their wet clothes, wondering where some of his notions about this peculiar person were coming from.

Damian awoke, and blinked in confusion to find himself warmly wrapped in a kind of fur-lined sack, his head resting on someone's broad, bare chest. A soft, trickling breath ruffled his hair as the person sharing the bedding with him let out a rasp-like snore.

Oh, God! Damian thought, biting back a weak laugh despite his confused exhaustion. It just figures that he'd snore!

"He? Who! Oh----Rhion. Rhion? Rhion!"

He began to giggle, weakly, as the snoring changed pitch and became almost painfully loud. Wasn't sure why it was so funny to wake up wrapped around this person he barely knew, or to be deafened by all his sawing. "Rhion, shut the hell up, Rhion!" By the time the other boy jerked awake with a snort he was nearly singing it. Half-realizing there was something in the sound of the other boy's name that truly pleased him.

He felt better than he had, though still sick. And definitely giddy, very tired. As if his sleep had been restless. Needed more rest. Needed something else, wasn't sure what---

"Gods damn you, I'm trying to sleep!" the other boy growled, which set Damian off laughing again.

"If you can sleep through your own racket you must be deaf," he mumbled. Figuring he was pretty safe, if that was the case.

Then he realized he was still cushioned on the blond boy's chest, and he bit his lip and tried to lever himself up. It was something of an effort, even after he irritably pushed Rhion's arm from around his waist.

It seemed well past daybreak, though it was hard to tell how much time had passed from the dismal, overcast sky. A light but knife-sharp wind was blowing. And as Rhion had said, it was freezing. Damian realized that when Rhion grunted and sat up, finally releasing him from the firm grip. Only the heat of the other boy's body had kept him comfortable; even the fur lining of the bedding wasn't sufficient to keep out the chill.

"Our clothes should be dry by now," Rhion said conversationally, not looking at him. "Did you want some food? I caught fish, made a stew."

Damian stared at him long enough to where Rhion felt it, turned to meet his eyes questioningly, flushing a bit. "You caught fish, and made a stew."

"Um---yes. Is there a problem?" Rhion shifted uncomfortably when Damian merely

studied him silently, peering over the edge of the sleeping sack accusingly. "Well----I always keep the small cooking pot with my herbs in the bottom of my pack, I just threw the bedding on top and forgot about it. And I noticed when we were, um, in the water, a fish or two----"

"Which you charmed into your pot, which you didn't mean to bring in the pack with the bedding. Do you usually carry luggage when you stalk someone, Rhion? That's getting too damn efficient!" His tone was more teasing than annoyed, but the other boy flushed slightly as if caught in something.

"I wasn't 'stalking' you!" Rhion snapped. "I was worried about you! But I didn't know how far you'd wandered, you seem to move pretty fast, and I noticed you have no sense about stopping to rest when you're exhausted either. So of course I brought some things in case I didn't find you quickly. I'm not an idiot like some people, stomping off barefoot and weaponless in a temper!"

De laughed a little then, still sounding truly tired but honestly amused as well. He had already decided to ignore that 'worried' comment, figured there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for it, something that probably constituted either a slip of the tongue or just a phrase pitched out purely from habit. He didn't know this person well enough to even consider that he might truly mean it.

He supposed he was probably just as much a mystery to the other boy as the other boy was to him---or maybe not? Rhion did seem to have the upper hand here when it came to information and strangely De couldn't bring himself too care to much about this fact at the moment. "One thing I have never been accused of, Rhion, is being well behaved or smart for that matter." De sighed a bit, allowed his amusement to trickle into his sigh making it sound truly light-hearted. "Just the opposite of both in fact."

There was a soft snort that almost sounded like an agreement. Damian stared, now totally amazed, as a huge black nose bumped Rhion's head affectionately. Widowmaker----what the hell!

Rhion caught his gaze, shrugged as he arose and tucked the furs around Damian's body. He rubbed the huge animal's shoulder in passing on his way to the stewpot. "What can I say? He showed up last night while you were tossing and yammering. Must have bitten through the ropes; I did secure both horses well. But this one has more sense than his owner. And some loyalty too, I would think. I can't deny I'm glad of it; it'd be a long walk back to where I hid all our gear. And you'll eat now or I'll pour it down you," he threatened, pausing to shake a warning finger at the other boy who stared up at him. Rhion seemed quite unconcerned that he was totally naked, standing in the knife-blade breeze like a big golden predator. "You still look sick as a wounded cat and you got almost no sleep either!'

"And whose fault was that?" Damian muttered. But he really didn't feel like arguing; suddenly he wanted the food badly. Fish stew, Rhion had said dismissively. But truth was a change of wind had brought the scent of it to him, and it smelled delicious.

And Rhion looked delicious. Weak as he was, Damian was suddenly sorry he had complained about the snoring. It had been more comforting than annoying, really.

"I'll eat if you insist," he said, trying to sound reluctant and pushed around. From Rhion's chuckle, though, he assumed he only succeeded in sounding hungry. "But I still don't understand how you caught fish. Did you "accidentally" leave fish-catching things in your pack too?" Not that he knew a thing about fishing, and from Rhion's snort his comment had proved it.

"I caught the fish by hand; I may be a city boy, but my trainer taught me some things. How to fight dirty, how to survive off the land. And yes, how to charm fish into my pot. If you are fast enough you can grab fish out of shallow water. Though the gods know Kef found me slow and stupid at it. But once they were caught he admitted I could deal with them. Here, see what you think!"

He handed Damian a small bowl brimming with rich soup, as well as a rough spoon. Cautiously, De tasted it, and had to admit it was excellent. Didn't taste the least, well, fishy. Rhion had one talent; he could certainly cook. Could probably make spiders taste good, given enough spices and a fair amount of spiders. Not that De would hand him any compliments, he'd learned that only led to trouble. "It's, well, not as bad as I'd thought it would be," he said cautiously. "Adequate, I mean."

Rhion grinned at him. He had walked away to retrieve something; now he dropped whatever it was on De's lap. "Put your pants on after you stop scraping the bowl and sucking your spoon. Did you want more? There's plenty."

Then before De could even reply, Rhion's expression changed. He dropped his eyes, and said very softly, "I'm sorry, by the way."

Damian studied him cautiously over the bowl. "Sorry. For what?"

Rhion stared at him as if he just wished the other boy would accept his apology and be done with it. "For----uh. Hurting you. Making you sick. I don't know what came over me. I, well, you made me angry, but I never meant to---shit!"

He looked depressed, and he pulled on his dried pants and shirt quickly. Unfortunate. Damian stirred what remained of his stew, eyes fastened on the spoon. "Your trainer taught you fishing. How to fight, too? He must have been good."

"He was," Rhion said, almost brusquely.

"You fight well. Not as aggressively as possible, but you're good."

"Thank you." Rhion almost seemed ready to say more, then bit it back. "I---thank you."

Damian silently handed him the bowl back. Rhion silently refilled it. De ate a little more; not the entire amount, he was beginning to feel full, and even marginally better. There was still something he needed and was missing, but this would suffice for now. He was strangely pleased, after he handed it back, to see Rhion quietly begin to eat what he had left. Probably just intending to not be wasteful, but somehow to him it seemed strangely erotic, Rhion eating out of the same bowl.

And then Rhion studied him quietly, with a gleam in his eye that grew to something De realized he would not like. "All right. We are here, on the edge of the Outlands. I've been close to this place before, but I have enough sense to realize you actually intend to go on in. My question is----"

He hesitated, then obviously refashioned his speech. "My question was going to be 'why'? And that's still a question. But I think now---for whatever reason----my main concern is 'how can I help you?"

"Why do you wanta help me?"

"Because I owe you." Rhion paused, seemed to consider something then whispered almost too low for De to hear "Because I think I could like you, given time."

Oh god, another comment for him to ignore. Didn't this boy understand whom he was talking to? How could he ever 'like' The Dark One, the destroyer of worlds? Well, if he stuck around long enough Rhion would see proverbial light and probably run screaming for the hills, if he didn't mange to let De get him killed first.

"Okay, let's say you do 'owe me' which is kinda debatable but we won't go there at the moment. What I plan to do---- No, what I have to do is probably not the smartest thing in the world and it could end up getting us both killed--- I know you're not a farmer---and I'm not saying you're a bad warrior but what I plan to take on is slightly more than dangerous."

"Slightly more than dangerous? You're nice enough to admit I'm no farmer, then tell me I can't handle slightly more than dangerous? You're obviously intending to do something stupid. You'll need someone with brains to assist you!"

"Rhion, it's just not a good idea---I've taken enough from your family, we're more than even in this. I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I let you come along."

"Let me come along? Are you arrogant or not? Damian, I make my own choices. If I choose to help you, can't you just accept that?"

"I don't wanta be responsible for your death, okay? I've got enough blood on my hands already without adding yours to the tally."

Rhion crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at him in a rather fatherly fashion. He was a little too fucking good at that, actually made De feel somewhat nervous. "Are you gonna tell me what we have to do, or spend time worrying about my damn blood?"

"Gods below you're a stubborn bastard! Fine, have it your way if you must, you and your blood be damned 'someone with brains' yhea right. Well, at least call me De if you intend to follow me into the mouth of hell." The Dark One paused then and added sarcastically, "I wouldn't feel right being all formal with a dying man."

"De, you have it. I'll be calling you that every time I have a stupid question as we go further into this crap. And you can call me Rhion, just like you've been doing."