(Warning - there is some noncon in this story)



Dean pulled up in front of the storage company, parked and got out. He’d called Sam a couple of times to see if he was done picking out some new fire arms from their dad’s stash, while he ran some errands. He’d had laundry duty, which had him thrilled, only because of the number of women that offered to help a clueless man. Some of ‘em were hot. Damned hot.

But now, he just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. He'd scammed a bunch of guys and taken their money, and this being a small town, he knew they were looking for him. Not that brawling couldn't be fun, but he'd hurt his shoulder and would prefer it got better before he fucked it up again.

He tried Sam one more time, wanting to avoid going inside if his brother was on his way out, cursing when he got Sam's phonemail again and got out. Striding through the main doors of the building, he headed for his father's large storage unit. When he got there, the door was slightly open. "Hey, Sammy, your phone outta juice?" he asked walking in. Frowning at the lack of a response, his gaze swept the room.

The room was just as he remembered, with crates stacked up, shelves, trunks of all sizes, some of them padlocked. "Sam?" He looked behind some shelving. Nothing. An uneasy feeling started to coil in his stomach. It had started with Sam not picking up, but now this. Something was wrong. Definitely wrong.

A minute later, he was out the door and at the front desk. All he got was that a tall man had gone in, but had not been seen leaving. What the fuck? Just to cover all bases, Dean checked the john. By the time he was back in the storage unit, he was tense as hell.

He scanned the room, looking for clues... anything out of place. Stacked in a corner were the guns Sam had selected, just like they'd talked about. Nothing was out of place, not that he could tell. Frustrated, he speed dialed his brother again. "Pick up Goddamit, pick up."

This time, instead of silence, a phone... Sam's... started ringing. Dean walked over to the shelving and picked up his brother's phone. "What the hell?" Looking at its screen, he saw his calls had been registered, and that there had been no outgoing calls since the time he'd dropped Sam off. His heart now pounding, he started to search the shelving. Next to where the phone had been was a scroll. The red wax seal had been broken. Opening it up, he saw beautiful calligraphy type writing, but in a language he'd never before seen. Only he had... in his dad's journal.

"Sam what have you done?" he asked the empty room. Did he have to be so Goddamned curious? Last time something had come out of this storage unit it was that unlucky rabbit's foot, and this time... what?

Slipping Sam's phone into his pocket, he walked out, locking the door behind him. Whatever the front desk was shouting at him, he didn't hear. He jogged to the car, anxious to get to the journal.

* * *

(Joint Post)

The headache was so bad it woke him up. He got them occasionally, and this one was accompanied with a fairly wicked nosebleed. As Sam slowly sat up, cringing from his throbbing head, he grabbed a rag to stop the flow of blood. He sat on the edge of the bed a minute unsure if he was going to vomit or not. When his gorge finally settled, he slid into his clean clothes and boots. He wanted a chance to eat before he reported to Steward Giles for whatever labor was on the slate today. He suspected he would be out along the sea, searching for medicinal plants. He didn't mind that. It got him out of the Hold, and most importantly kept him out of the way of the Lord Holder's son, Serance. Around Serance, he couldn't do anything right, whether it was right or not. And then there was the way the man watched him. There was lust in the man's eyes and the thought of that was just...he shuddered. He had managed to avoid anything more than getting groped by the man. He would readily take the beatings he got over the alternative.



Glad his headache seemed to be fading rapidly, he stepped over the reeds filled with salt at his doorway and hurried down to the kitchen. After he got himself some klah, he made a quick sandwich, getting only a mild glare from Jeanda as he snagged the food. A small group of other workers were already getting their assignment from Steward Giles when he arrived. If he was early, he often got his pick of jobs. He hoped he was still early enough not to get one of the less than savory jobs and gave a small sigh. He really wished he had been fostered out to one of the halls. He much preferred scholarly work. He was an orphan though with no clout and no one to fight for him. Serance had disliked him for as long as he could recall. Sam heartily wished that the dislike had stayed dislike, rather than becoming mixed with the unwanted attention the Lord's son gave him. He suspected Serance had been part of the reason his requests to be fostered out had been denied those years ago. The man was damned spiteful.

"Off with you," Giles pushed a young lad. "There will be no lunch unless you finish your work." Shaking his head, he passed out a few more assignments, and then saw the lanky young man approach. "Samuel, you're later than is your usual habit. Did you find the love of a good woman?"

There were snickers and some low laughter, and many eyes were on Sam.



Sam felt a flush come to his cheeks. Everyone knew he didn't have a girl. He had tried asking a few of the women he found attractive. And at first they seemed interested, but then they suddenly lost interest. He suspected he had the bastard Serance to thank for that too.



"No, sir. I, uh, I had a bad headache this morning. It just slowed me down. I'm fine now. Have you assigned anyone to collect the herbs yet?"

"Always wanting to be off grounds," the steward shook his head. He had the feeling Sam was a dreamer, more suited to the profession of harper. One day, he might advise him to go and talk to the the harpers about an apprenticeship. One day when the young master was away. "Aye... you gather herbs. Check with Leandra as to what we are in need of most, she has the list." If the boy hadn't been so hardworking and if he didn't have the ability to read, Giles might not have been as good about giving him the plum assignments. "Mind you get back before dusk this time..."



Sam ducked his head in acknowledgement, but he had no intentions of getting back by dusk. He didn't like eating in the hall. Serance stared at him or made cracks. For that matter, a lot of the others did as well. Everyone knew Sam was marked. It was much easier to sneak in after dinner, grab something from the kitchen, and retreat back to his room. He was permitted to take some of the historical scrolls out. Any he found that were beginning to show wear or damage, he would recopy. It gave him something to do, and he enjoyed reading and writing. He long ago learned it was better to just try to stay to the shadows. He didn't really have any 'friends' since any time he tried to make them, they soon started avoiding him. He tried to pretend he wasn't lonely, but he was. But he always had been. He often wondered what his life might have been like if his mother hadn't died in that fire those years ago, and almost immediately after that, his father had been killed while hunting. He didn't even have any memory of them. He talked to those who knew his parents, but they were just abstract stories about abstract people.



"Thank you sir," Sam said politely and quickly got away from the snickering young men still waiting their assignments. He supposed it didn't help that Giles tended to give him some of the better jobs. He certainly did his share of hard labor, as the muscles he had attested to, but if there were jobs that let him be off by himself, Giles gave them to him when possible. He was grateful for the kindness of the older man.



Reaching the door of the healer's, he cleared his throat. He didn't really like the healer, but he certainly liked getting out of the hold to gather her supplies.

The ancient woman didn't look up. "You again?" Why did they send this one to her all the time. Something about him made her squeamish. He was wrong... she could feel it, knew it, but she couldn't prove it. He was also the reason she sometimes suffered at the hands of Serance. He would come demanding she mix love potions or things that might put this one in a deep sleep and would not believe her when she said there was no such thing... nothing that she could do.

Pulling a piece of parchment from the table behind her, she pushed it across the top of her desk. Finally, looking up into his falsely innocent face, she shook her head. He had bewitched Serance... that was the only reason she could fathom that the master's son sometimes behaved as if there were two of him sharing his body, tearing him in different directions. "I smell blood." She didn't offer aid.



"I had a nosebleed this morning. That's all." He took the parchment and made sure he knew what everything on the list was. Her handwriting was clean and crisp thankfully, even for her age. "Thank you, Healer Leandra."



He picked up the bag on the nearby table that had the baskets and containers and tools he would need. With any luck he could stretch the assignment out a few days. It was a healthy list and some of the things on the list he would probably have to go a half day's walk up the shoreline to find. There was a small creek about four hours away, one fed by a spring, and a few of the herbs she needed would be there. He could find them closer, but the ones by the spring were always healthy and in abundance. He certainly didn't mind the walk and the way it allowed him to stall for time was a good bonus. He could start with those and watch for other things on the list on the way there.



He stopped off at the kitchen again, picked up some lunch to take along and a skin of water before heading out. Reaching the trail that led up the coast he was grateful to note the skies were clear and it looked like it would be a good day for walking. Even if it had threatened a monsoon he would have probably gone anyhow. Anything to get him out of the hold and away from Serance.

* * *

Signs of the storm from two nights ago were everywhere. Tree limbs were scattered on the ground and even whole trees had been uprooted. The shoreline, after a storm like that, tended to be remade. Sam walked along the cliffs feeling the knots in his shoulders ease a little more with every step he took further away from Ista Hold. He had made every request he could to get out of Ista Hold. If he could just get to one of the holds across the ocean, he knew his life would be better. No Serance to shadow his every step. He'd even tried to sneak away a couple times, but that simply got him a beating for being such an ungrateful orphan who the Hold had looked after, blah, blah, blah. A few years back he simply gave up. He accepted he was stuck in Ista, accepted that Serance would never let him have a girlfriend, never let him do or have anything more than what he had. It wasn't fair, but life wasn't fair. If life was fair, his mother and father would still be alive and he wouldn't be alone.

He wasn't far from the creek when a feeling of fear washed over him suddenly. He looked skyward, wondering if a storm might be rolling in, but no, the sky was clear. He frowned as the fear grew more frantic. He heard it then, a soft cry unlike any he had ever heard, coming from the shoreline below. He peered over the edge of the cliff. He was only up about twenty feet at this point and he clearly saw...By the shard! It was a fire lizard! A queen! Scanning the area it was apparent the storm had torn through here and a large rockfall was piled near the base of the cliff where the queen was desperately digging. He had heard fire lizards wouldn't hurt people, they were distant cousins of their large counterparts afterall, but fire lizards had grown rare, perhaps also a victim of the plagues that had ravaged the lands these past years. Both animal and human alike had suffered. The adult dragons seemed to be immune, but clutches had grown small and dragonets often sickly only to die soon after hatching. The mature dragons were of course affected if their rider fell ill. When the dragonrider died, their dragon most often simply went between and never came back.

Making a decision, he easily shimmied down the rough cliff face. As he grew nearer to the queen, the feeling of fear seemed to grow more intense. The queen saw him and screamed at him, as if demanding he come help her. He saw that she was wounded, one wing broken and several deep gashes in her body. He went to her side and saw she was trying to dig out an egg from the sands. The rockfall had crushed all the eggs in her clutch save one. He could also see that she was using her last bit of strength to rescue this one egg. He wondered where the rest of her flight was but there was no sign of any other fire lizard but the queen.

"Shh, I've got it. I'll get it out," he reassured her and carefully began digging the egg out, having to move some precariously placed rocks that threatened to crush this last and final egg. He gently pulled it out, holding it reverently and moved it far enough away from the rocks that it was in no danger from them and still high enough on the shore that the ocean wouldn't reach it. Digging a small niche in the sand, he nestled it down in it.

"There you go. It's safe now," he assured her. She walked around it and thrummed softly. Watching her, he marveled at her beauty, even as injured and scarred as she was. It took a minute for it to register that the egg was beginning to rock. He was going to get to see a fire lizard hatch! With a smile, he hummed with her, trying to match her tone. She looked at him with tired curiosity, her faceted eyes shining in the sun, but did not stop her own humming. He watched in awe as the egg slowly cracked open. Out fell a bronze fire lizard, not even quite as big as his hand. The sudden pangs of hunger he felt made him dig into his pack for the meat he had brought for lunch. Dragons were ravenous when they hatched, so surely the little fire lizard was too. He pulled the meat out and fed it to the the tiny creature as it spread its wings to dry. He was so busy watching the small bronze he didn't realize the queen was no longer singing until he looked up and saw the queen had collapsed, unmoving. He went to her side but saw she had expired, spending her last bit of life saving her offspring, unable to even go between as most dragons did when they died.

"You're an orphan, just like me," he told the small creature. It didn't seem to take notice, too busy gobbling down the meat. "I hope you have better luck than I did," he told it sadly. He smiled at it a final time and headed up the shore. He was busy gathering herbs when he felt a light weight on his shoulder and tiny pinpricks in his flesh there. The bronze fire lizard had perched on his shoulder and rubbed its head against his cheek, chirping happily, its little belly round and full.

Sam's eyes widened. Oh. Shards. He'd impressed it. Serance was going to be livid. Hell, all the others were going to be jealous. He'd never get to walk the shorelines again because everyone would be clamoring for a chance to hunt for fire lizards. "No, you can't come with me. Shoo." Sam said, trying to encourage it to fly away. It flitted up to a tree. He huffed, hoping it would lose interest quickly and move on. Instead it watched him as he gathered the herbs. When he moved along the creek, so did the bronze.

Maybe if he hurried, he could get back closer to the Hold and it would go its own way. At least that's what he told himself. Maybe he hadn't impressed it and it was just being curious. He gathered everything he could and then set a fast pace back toward the Hold. Two hours out from the Hold, the tiny lizard was still darting about him, creeling and chirping. He sighed and planted himself on the ground in the shade of a tree. The fire lizard landed on his shoulder. He rubbed its eye ridges and felt the lizard's happiness. Well, he most definitely wasn't going to return before dark now. He was going to have to sneak his fire lizard in. He didn't know how long he could hide it, but he'd do his best.

"Guess if I'm stuck with you I better call you something," Sam said, looking at the small creature. "How about 'Deanie'? I can call you Dee for short. I get the feeling you're going to be a real pain in my ass." Somehow, that name for it just seemed right and he smiled a little. This was something Serance couldn't take from him and maybe he wouldn't be so lonely anymore. He held his hand out and it jumped into it. He held it to his chest and stroked it, pleased when it seemed to nestle down and promptly fall asleep.

(joint post)

Sneaking it in that first evening hadn't been hard. Everyone was used to him slipping in well after dinner. He hadn't eaten much and between his hunger and the little fire lizard's reflected hunger, he was so hungry his stomach was practically cramping. He used some of his best sneaking skills and got into the kitchen and out again with food for both of them, no one the wiser. Come morning he headed out before the sun had hardly risen, needing to finish collecting the promised herbs.

A young kitchen drudge ran as fast as his little legs could take him, chasing after the tall youth. "Samuel... Sam," he shouted, voice high pitched and slightly panicked. "Wait!" Now he knew why they said Sam lived in his own world.



Sam had really been trying to ignore the youngster and hoped the kid would just give up. Deanie was patiently waiting for him in the shadows, but Deanie was as hungry as he was and wouldn't wait for breakfast much longer.



"Sam!!!"



With an aggravated sigh, Sam stopped and turned. The youngster skidded into Sam's leg. Sam's hand shot out, steadying the youth to keep him from falling on his ass.



"What's so urgent, Kelsy? I've got to finish getting the healer's herbs today."

To make sure Sam didn't get away, the panting child got a good grip of Sam's sleeves as he took a couple more breaths. "The master... he said I was to see to it that you didn't leave until you come to see him. The young master, that is." Looking up at Samuel, he gave him a sympathetic look. "He said you are to come to the library or... or I will feel his boot on my," he looked behind himself. "He's got heavy boots."



Sam managed a strained smile. "Yes. He does. Okay. I'll go see him before I leave."



After pulling his sleeve free of the young boy's hands, he headed toward the library, his stomach tightening. He found a side hallway and stepped into it, then into one of the small supply rooms. Pulling out the pouch of raw meat he had gotten for the fire lizard he called softly, "C'mon, Dee, eat up."



The tiny dragon popped in from between and immediately began gobbling up the tiny morsels voraciously. Sam had snagged some sweetcakes for breakfast for himself, but he had completely lost his appetite save for the one he felt from the dragon.



"You stay here and eat," he told the fire lizard firmly. "No matter what you feel coming from me, don't you show yourself, especially not to Serance."



The fledgling fire lizard seemed to totally ignore him. Reluctantly, Sam headed to the library. Serance was standing at the window staring out over the land. Serance was a tall man, almost as tall as Sam, and Sam was the tallest in the Hold. He had short brown hair and Sam couldn't deny the man was handsome. Even if he wasn't the Lord Holder's son, the man would have surely had his pick of women. Sam kept the bag slung over his shoulder that was for collecting the rest of the herbs and that held his food and water for while he was out. Stopping at the end of on of the tables, a good ten paces or more from the man, Sam cleared his throat softly.



"You wanted to see me Lord Serance?"

Serance didn't answer for a while, didn't turn. Let the drudge wait... stew in his fear. When enough time had passed for a man to walk the length of the hold, he finally turned his crystal blue gaze to Sam, eyes narrowing with displeasure. He stood too straight and held his chin too high for one of his rank. "You think highly of yourself, don't you?" his voice was a cold whisper.



Sam tried hard not to shift from foot to foot as the man seemed to ignore his presence. He couldn't leave without being dismissed but he was hesitant to repeat himself. When the man did finally turn to him, Sam immediately dropped his gaze and inhaled sharply. "No, Lord Serance. I'm nothing but a mere holdsman, a worker."

"I know what you are, but do you know what you are?" he asked, taking a step toward him. The silence was deafening. Irritating. Serance grabbed Sam's jaw, his thumb and middle finger biting into his skin. "I expect an answer. Drudge."



"I am your servant, Lord," Sam said, wincing, wanting to step back from the man but resisting the urge. That would only infuriate the man. What the shell had he done to upset Serance? He had been trying very hard to stay out of the man's sight. And why was the young Lord up so early?

"That's right... my servant. You live to serve me," he said, gaze dropping to those scarlet lips of Samuel's. He was sure the servant bit on them to redden them, just to torture him. "And yet you take on airs." Releasing him suddenly, he started to walk around him. "You come and go as you please. Skip meals... as if you are better than the rest." Now standing behind Sam, he cupped his hand around the servant's throat, and spoke in his ear. "You think you're better than us, you do, don't you?" The words were spoken through gritted teeth as Serance tried to ignore the heat from Sam's body seeping through his clothes. "Answer me." His grip tightened as he tried to control his body's reactions.


He swallowed hard when the man moved behind him and that strong hand went to his throat. He had a feeling if he moved, he would be cuffed for it at the least. The way the man whispered in his ear, it was almost like a lover might, if the words weren't so harsh and almost gnashed. His eyes widened a little at the man's accusations.



"No-no sir," Sam stuttered. "I-I try to work hard. I-I just try to get as much done for the Hold as I can. I don't mean to miss dinner, sir. I try not to bother anyone if I come in late. I make my own meals when I do, I clean up my own dishes so not to put hardship or extra work on anyone. If there is work not yet finished in the kitchen, I try to help in there. My father was a holdsman and hunter. My mother, I'm told she was good with the children. I'm nothing, sir, nothing but...nothing but your servant."

"That's right..." The dark urges that came to him whenever he looked at Sam were clawing at him now. Closing his eyes, Serance leaned in, his mouth touching Sam's cheek. "Do not pull away," he said, his tone edged in steel as he took another step forward and pressed himself up against Samuel. Instantly, he was rock hard, his burgeoning cock straining against his pants and grinding into the servant's ass. "You deserve to be punished... this is your punishment," his hand squeezed Sam's throat. "This is what you drive me to..." he snarled, hating the uncontrollable desires that coursed through him.



Sam stiffened when Serance's lips brushed his cheek. He started to try to twist away but the man's words and the grip the man had on his throat kept him still. The man's erection pressed into him and he gasped as Serance rubbed his hardened member against him. The young lord had felt him up a few times, but nothing ever so blatant as this. His punishment...? Serance didn't actually plan to...to...Sam tried to pull away but the iron grip on his throat brought him right back up against the man and his cock.

The Lord's son's breaths started to come out harsh and fast. "You will be here on time this evening, on duty to draw my bath... or Samuel, mark my words well... I will not spare the lash." He slid his hand down from Sam's throat, over his chest, and pulled him flush against his body. "You deserve this..." he whispered, letting him go suddenly, moving back and kicking him in the ass. A look of chagrin crossed his features when instead of going sprawling across the floor Sam caught himself and almost gracefully took off toward the door.

Pausing at the door, Sam bowed a little. "Yes sir. I'll be there sir," Sam said. He took the stairs two at a time and got out of the hold as fast as possible. Deanie careened around him, chirping worriedly. Sam didn't stop until he reached the treeline. There was no way he was going to be there to draw his bath. He'd take the lash, and gladly, over the alternative.


"C'mon, Dee," Sam said and slowly began walking up the shoreline.

* * *

(joint post)

It was late when Sam crept in. He had fished for some spiderclaws for Deanie and ate what lunch he had brought for himself. He actually had not meant to get back quite so late. He had trouble finding two of the herbs on Leandra's list and time had gotten a little away from him. He left the bag of herbs outside of Leandra's door and headed to his own room to collapse. He would try to be up extra early to get Deanie fed, then he supposed he would have to face Serance's anger unless Giles didn't know and sent him out to work. Definitely up extra early, even though he was bone tired.

The sound of booted feet rang in the halls, despite the lateness of the hour. Serance was flanked by his master at arms and a younger warrior in training, Alon, who carried the flogger, ties and other things the young master had asked him for. They walked out of the main hall and entered the narrower one where the drudges were housed. Alon's heart started to beat harder. Sam was in trouble, big trouble. Why had he disobeyed Serance? Everyone knew that was a stupid thing to do. Maybe Serance was right, maybe Sam thought he was too good to serve, better than the others, not suited to carrying bathwater.

As they neared the drudge's room, Alon fought the notion that Sam had other reasons. The way Serance looked at him, that was in Alon's mind... he'd been told he had his head in the clouds and lived in an imaginary world. And still, this was out of ordinary, if anything. A late night punishment? Why hadn't Serance ordered that Sam be brought to the central courtyard on the morrow?

As the Master at Arms heavy knocks struck the wooden door, Alon's gaze dropped to the ground. Would that this went quickly.

Sam hadn't much more than fallen asleep when the sudden knock on the door startled him awake. Deanie, curled up on his shoulder jumped between, then reappeared, chirping, frightened.

"Shh. It's okay. Deanie, you have to hide. No matter what, you have to hide. They can't find you!" Sam hissed, putting all his fear of discovery of the fire lizard in his mind. "Hide until I call you back. Hide!" Sam ordered, hoping the little fledgling understood. He took a long draw from the water skin at the head of his bed. At this late hour, it had to be Serance. He pulled his dirty shirt back on, it being the closest one at hand. He opened the door and saw the three standing there. The look on the face of the Lord Holder's son told Sam immediately he should have come back on time. His gaze darted to the things the young warrior carried and bowed his head.

"I am sorry, Lord Serance," Sam said. "The last of the herbs took much longer to find than I thought. I did not mean to return so late, especially after your wise counsel this morning." He fought back the memories of Serance's hand on his throat, his erection pressed against Sam's backside, and the things Serance had said.

"By morning, I'll make sure your words are true," Serance responded, knowing full well that the drudge was not sorry at all. Not for crossing him, and not for the dark feelings he stirred up within him. "Stand back."

Sam was momentarily confused. Move back into his room? Maybe to lock him in until morning?

When Sam didn't move, the Master at Arms pushed him deeper into the room, and snapped at the young warrior to follow him. Head bowed, Alon followed, and jumped slightly when Serance came in and slammed the door shut with finality.

"Tie him," Serance jerked his chin toward the leather ties Alon was carrying.

"Perhaps he should be punished in the morning, in the courtyard, the wait will be punish--" The fierce look from Serance cut off Alon's attempts to normalize the situation. He was as resigned as the drudge. Dropping everything onto the small make shift table, he grabbed the narrow leather straps, looped them into a knot and approached Sam. "Please."

Nodding to the young man Sam held out his wrists. Fighting was pointless. He kept up his strong feelings of fear of the fire lizard being discovered. He didn't know what Serance would do if he discovered Sam had a fire lizard. He didn't want to know. Killing a fire lizard would be considered a crime but all Serance would have to do is say it was attacking him and he had to. Deanie was too young. He wouldn't know its young life would be in danger and even though he could go between, he might not be fast enough and that thought terrified Sam more than anything Serance was about to do to him.

"I have tried and tried with you Samuel, but you continue to disobey. Other punishments have not produced any results... you still act as if you are the master of the hold. You have driven me to this," Serance said. "I want his arms secured."

The Master at Arms nodded at Alon, and they both pushed Sam to the corner of the room, under one of the many hooks on the wall intended for clothes and other items as there were no closets in the drudges' quarters. Selecting one that was close to the ceiling, the Master at Arms made another knot which he slipped over the hook, while Alon pushed Sam's arms up as high as they would go. The leather strap was pulled tight, the knot held, and the men stepped back.

Sam twisted his head and looked between the two warriors. They were going to punish him in his quarters? That was unheard of! It should be out in the courtyard. He pulled at the leather ties. "Sir, please," Sam begged. "I'm sorry! It won't happen again. Please Lord Serance. Please!"

"Pass me the flog," the Master at Arms ordered Alon.

Just as Alon was about to obey him, Serance spoke.

"No. I will administer the punishment. Leave... both of youl" At their hesitation, he turned his cool blue gaze toward them, giving a tight, satisfied smile as they scurried out.

Sam watched them leave and turned his gaze back on Serance.

"I'm sorry, Lord. I'm sorry I disobeyed," he said, putting all the emotion into it he could. The truth was, though, he wasn't sorry. Though he had a feeling Serance was right. He was going to be very sorry by morning. He gaze slid over the things laying on the table. He kept focused on Deanie staying hidden though. No matter what. He tightened his jaw and looked down at Serance, anger beginning to bubble up inside. Serance had ruined his life ever since he had arrived at the Hold.

"Why do you hate me? What have I done? I've tried to leave. Why wouldn't you ever let me go?" Sam asked.

"What have you done." Serance pulled on a black leather glove that left his fingers exposed from the knuckles down, made a fist, and met Sam's gaze. He wondered if the young man's heart was racing. He hoped so, for all the racing the man put his own heart through. "What... have you done." Shaking his head, he pulled the other glove on. "Did I imagine your disobediance tonight?" he asked, purring like a feline.

Looking into the man's blue eyes, Sam knew it didn't matter what he might say, but he would try. "It wasn't intentional, Lord. It won't happen again. I swear by the first egg. It will never happen again."

Strangely, he really wasn't afraid of the beating it looked like he was going to get. It wouldn't be the first time after all. It would be the last. If he had to become Holdless, it would be the last time Serance beat him.

"You will swear it again AFTER I am through with you." Striding closer, using both hands he grasped Sam's shirt at the collar and pulled the worn material down to his waist, tearing it into two pieces that fell to the ground. Putting one gloved palm on his back, he caressed it. "So smooth... unmarked. After everything you have done, you should be grateful to me that it is so."

When the man grabbed his shirt, Sam couldn't help but start a little. The sound of the ripping material, feeling the cool air on his bare skin, it was nothing to the way he jumped when he felt the older man's caress.

Swaying closer, Searnce rested his cheek against the warmth of Sam's shoulder blade, breathing his scent. He smelled of the sea and out doors... and of dark, dirty, wrong things that plagued Serance's mind.

Sam inhaled sharply, feeling his heart rate increase when the lord rested against him and his warm breath brushed over his shoulder. He suddenly felt horribly exposed and helpless.

"I am, Lord Serance. You've been very generous and forgiving," Sam said, resisting the urge to fight. He didn't think he could get his hands free and fighting the man would just make it worse. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Of course you are. Just as you are sorry." Stepping back, he suddenly gripped Sam's hips and roughly pulled him back so that his body was slightly angled, his ass sticking out. Gripping his trousers, he gave a short tug, exposing him half way and taking a shaky breath. "You are a monster... for torturing me... you are a monster, Samuel," he grit out, whipping around to grab the flogger.

"What?" Sam exclaimed, shocked when Serance yanked down his pants and the accusation that he was a monster? Him? Serance was the one who tormented Sam!

Serance started to strike Sam with the flog, over and over, growling between hits, "you will not anger me. You will not taunt me. You will not disobey. You will not tempt me... or come in my dreams... or make me spill my seed over you. You will not do these things to me, ever again." He worked up a sweat, his motions never stopping, as if using the exercise to beat his desires out of himself at the same time.

Sam gasped between each stinging blow. The blows grew harder and he could feel the welts start, and then he wasn't sure if it was blood or sweat that began to run down his backside. When he felt his skin split open on one particularly vicious blow he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. The words Serance chanted were all the things he had...feared. Would...would Serance take it one step more? Would Serance take advantage of Sam's helplessness? He could sense his little fire lizard's concern and he tried hard to ignore the blows and instead kept putting in his mind that Deanie had to stay hidden. Had to. No matter what.

With each stroke of the lash, Serance lost himself a little more. It was like he'd opened the floodgates to the dark side of himself that he'd tried so hard to restrain... but this boy tested him so. Even now, with his fecking refusal to make a sound. One last heavy lashing, and he dropped the flog to the ground.

Relief swelled in Sam when the blows finally stopped. But then he heard something hit the ground and he twisted his head. Serance had dropped the leather flogger. Serance said nothing, did nothing and Sam was afraid to move, afraid of what was going through the man's mind and what the result would be. The words Serance had been chanted made it perfectly clear.

Serance stood there, a long time... eyes glued to Sam's form. His gaze slipped downward from that uniquely shiny hair, to the broad shoulders and tapered waist, and tight ass. Images of pulling him completely free of the rest of his clothes tortured Serance. His cock grew heavy with need, he swallowed hard. "Make some sound. Beg me. Beg me for anything," he said, his breaths coming harshly.

Sam's mouth went suddenly dry. He said the only thing that came to mind, the only thing in his heart. "Please Lord Serance, please let me go. I'll leave, you won't ever see me again. I promise. Please just let me go."

One long stride, and Serance was right up against Sam, pushing him a step forward, and then pulling Sam's body up flush against himself. Sam strangled back the cry of pain from the pressure against his bloody back.

"Keep begging... say please... don't stop," he ordered, hands roughly moving over Sam's chest, molding him close, making it possible for Serance to grind his erection against Sam's semi-bare ass.

Those gloved hands roving over his chest made him shudder and each grind only brought a gasp of pain as Serance pressed against his scored back.

Serance's cock was so hard and heavy, he ached... and this boy did this to him, it was his fault... no one else's. "I said beg," He snarled, licking the side of Sam's throat, wanting to suck at his mouth. "Beg, beg, beg." With each demand, he thrust harder against Sam, one hand eventually curling around his throat and fingers threatening to cut off his air if he didn't obey.

"Please stop," Sam said, meaning it. Every thrust hurt and the tongue running along his neck disgusted him. "Please, Lord, please, by the shard, please," Sam answered his demand. The hand closing on his throat began to frighten him. "Please, stop. Stop. Please!"

"Yes, yes, yes," Serance chanted with him, grinding harder into him, imagining themselves both stripped naked... Sam face down on his great bed, arms spread out... shouting his name. He imagined spilling his seed for once inside the boy who tormented him. "Keep it up... keep it up," he said, pounding against him a bit harder, working himself closer to release.

With the movement and thrusting coupled with the blood-soaked material, he felt his pants begin to slid down further. "Please, no!" Sam wheezed out, becoming more concerned with getting air into his lungs as the hand tightened on his throat. "Please don't kill me," Sam finally whispered.

"So sweet... so sweet when you beg, when you know your master." Sliding his hand up to cup Sam's jaw and forcing him to turn sideways, he gave in to his desires, brutally taking that scarlet mouth, shoving his tongue inside and claiming every corner, every crevice, twisting his tongue around and dominating Sam's.

The invasion of his mouth by Serance's tongue made his eyes widen in shock. Sam couldn't begin to bring himself to respond. The man's tongue was everywhere inside his mouth.

It wasn't enough... he wanted more... needed more... He shoved Sam all the way up against the wall, mouth never leaving his. It wrenched Sam's shoulders back and he felt more than a little off balance, both physically and mentally. Then Serance fucked against him, and fucked his mouth with his tongue, his labored breaths turning into grunts. To Sam' horror he felt his own cock begin to take interest and grow a little hard.

One hand moved down Sam's body, to the ties of his trouser. Sam tried to shift, trying to keep Serance's hand from reaching inside to discover his own betraying flesh. Just as Serance started to push his hand inside, his body stiffened. He thrust a few more times, biting Sam's lower lip as a blinding heat spread through his system and he finally found the release he'd craved. "Don't ever do this to me again," he rasped, pulling away.

There was no doubt Serance came and Sam could feel the hot fluid soak through Serance's pants. Do what? He hadn't done anything! ...he had disobeyed, but he didn't think that was at all what Serance was talking about. He tasted the blood from where Serance had bit him,

Reaching up, Serance used a knife to cut the binding free of the hook. "Don't turn around, not until I'm gone." Expecting obedience, he started for the door, and tossed his gloves down next to the flogger. "Return these to the Master at Arms tomorrow."

With that, he walked out and closed the door behind him. He had to get to his room and wash off the blood. He had to get some sleep... perhaps tonight it would come to him without dreams of a certain drudge that made his days and nights unbearable.

(joint post)

Though his the bindings had been cut from the hook, Sam's hands were still bound and he had to dig out a knife. Twisting it around he managed to cut the leather after a bit of sawing. Deanie flew around him chirping with concern.

"I'm okay," Sam told him. "I will be. Don't worry. You did well, Deanie. I'm proud of you," Sam said softly. Deanie landed on the end of his bed and stared up at him, his eyes whirling. Sam reached out scratching under the fire lizard's chin. It was so late, but he needed his back tended. He hated the thought of waking the ancient healer, but what choice did he have?

"You stay here, Deanie. I'll be back. Just stay here."

The chirps and chittering Deanie gave him implied he was getting chewed out by the young fire lizard. "You're not my mother, little one. Stay put. I'm going to the healer and have her clean my back and put on some numbweed. I'll be back after that. We need to be up in a few hours and we'll get food, and then we'll get a job assigned, and then we'll leave. I don't know where we're going to go, but we'll find a place. We can hide along the shore in the caves. Maybe I can watch for merchant boats and we can get to the Mainland We can find a hold there, one without Serance. Then everything will be okay. Maybe I can even apply to one of the Crafthalls. Now just stay put."

Before he left, he changed out of his pants and wiped along his lower back where Serance's seed had touch him, each movement an experience in pain. Giving a final glare and sending mental images of Deanie staying in his room, he left and headed to Leandra's. He rapped lightly on her door.

"Leandra, please, I've been injured. Can you please help?" Sam said, listening for movement inside. He rapped again and thought he heard soft muttered curses. The door opened a few minutes later, the old woman's tired eyes meeting his own. He showed her his back. "Can you please clean it and put on some numbweed?" Sam begged her.

The glow light gave her enough light by which to see the damage to his back. She made a face. "Always in trouble, I knew it would come to this some day." Moving aside, she nodded for him to step inside. "Sit on the stool," she said, moving deeper into the room to the shelf weighed down with herbs and medications. Despite her words, she did not approve of physical mistreatment, even if this one had bewitched the master's son somehow.

A few moments later, she returned. "Best if you were to obey without question," she said, quickly cleaning the welts with salt water to prevent infection.

Sam's breath hissed between his teeth as the salt stung the wounds.

"I don't know what to do, Healer. Lord Serance, he's...interested...in me in a way that I'm not. I want a wife, I want children. I don't want...him. I try to stay clear of him, try to stay out of sight. How can I obey when he wants that from me? I've tried to leave. He makes sure I can't. I've tried to date. He makes sure no woman will touch me." He was startled to find tears sliding down his cheeks. "He won't even permit me to make friends. I didn't show up on time to draw his bath because I was...afraid he might want more than just hot water. How can I obey that without question?"

Her mouth tightened as she started to spread the numbweed over his welts. How was she to answer that? She didn't have to look at his face to realize he was crying. A man crying was always a sight that was difficult to bear. "He has never shown that... inclination," she spat out, "except... Some say that a new medicine is sweeping the lands. Witchcraft. Some say it is possible to bewitch a man." If this one had designs on becoming Lord and Master of the hold, then that would make sense. Leandra was starting to have her doubts. This one seemed to want nothing more than to be left to himself.

Sam felt a sudden and overwhelming sense of loneliness. For all his warnings to Deanie, the young fire lizard could not ignore the emotional pain of his impressed. He appeared in front of Sam and landed in his lap, rubbing his cheek against Sam's bare chest in reassurance and love, trying to ease Sam's pain.

Leandra jumped back, then looked around Sam's broad shoulder. "By the first egg... what have we here?" Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the fire lizard making itself at home in the crook of Sam's neck. Envy is wrong, she reminded herself as the first question that popped inside her mind was why was this youth worthy of the rare and beautiful creature, whereas she, a wise woman of many years and experience, had none.

"It is... beautiful, and it will get you in more trouble," she said, finishing up her task though her eyes kept shifting to the creature. "Where did you find it?"

"I told Deanie to stay in my room. He seems to listen pretty well but I guess....I guess he didn't this time," Sam said, grateful for the sudden presence of the small creature but also fearful. Would Leandra tell the Lord Holder? "I was by the cliffs. The storm, there was a rockfall. The queen was injured. Deanie was the only egg that survived. I moved his egg to safety but before I could leave, he hatched. The queen, she expired, not even enough strength to go between. I didn't see any other fire lizards. I didn't mean to impress him. But I guess I have." His voice had dropped to a whisper, a little awe in his voice. Begging then, Sam pleaded, "Please don't tell the Lord Holder. Deanie's the first...the first friend I've ever really had." He almost told her he was going to leave the hold, today if possible, but decided against it. He couldn't tell anyone. He would beg her for an extra jar of numbweed and a jar of oil for Deanie's skin to take with him.

"I won't say anything but..." she shook her head, "you won't be able to keep him a secret. My advice is to admit he's yours," she shrugged. "But when do the youth ever listen. There's nothing more I can do for you. Try to keep from finding yourself under the lash again." Stretching her hand toward the fire lizard, she asked, "May I?" At his nod, she stroked the beautiful creature, though it quickly moved away. "Once there were many dragonriders in the sky and this... the hold was a better place."

"Thank you Leandra," Sam said sincerely, meaning both about Deanie and for taking care of his back. "Might I get a spare jar of numbweed and some oil for Deanie's skin?" He accepted the two jars. "There's a clutch of dragon eggs up in the weyr. Maybe there will be more dragons soon and maybe it will get better," he said, knowing that it would get better for him, because soon, he was going to be out of the hold and making his own way. He would find a way to the Mainland. He had to. He had to get away from Serance.

(Joint post)

Word had spread like wildfire throughout the hold. A drudge had seen Sam in the storeroom stealing food. When the drudge confronted him, a fire lizard had appeared. By the time the story that Sam had a fire lizard was told and retold, the fire lizard was reportedly enormous, with claws longer and sharper than anything before it, and it had taken out the poor drudge's eyes.

When Serance finished with the boy, whose eyes appeared to be in his head where they belonged, he had the whole story. He'd told his father, who was mostly bedridden, that Samuel had found an egg and instead of reporting it, had horded it for himself. His father had always coveted the fire lizard of his cousin, Lord Maloch, and was easily incensed by Sam's reported actions. He'd told Serance to deal with him most severely... and Serance would.

*



Sam could only gape at Giles when the steward told him he wasn't allowed to leave the Hold. He bit back his fury. Serance thought he would be able to keep him here? No. He would do his assigned job for the day, then this very eve he would take his backpack and slip out the door. He would travel well up the coast, find a decent cave, hopefully with a tidal pool, and live there for a while. Then he would work his way back and wait for the traders. When the traders were leaving, he would offer labor in exchange for joining them.



That, at any rate, had been his plan, especially seeing as how a kitchen drudge had seen Deanie. He knew it wouldn't take long for the word to get around. And it didn't. That evening he was forced to have dinner with everyone else. He heard the whispers and saw the looks. He would not bring Deanie out and confirm a scorched thing for them. He felt Serance's eyes on him and tried to keep his attention focused on his meal. As soon as he had eaten, he returned to his room. The others could do the cleanup. It wasn't his job even though he had often helped in the past. Tonight he needed to make sure he had everything he needed and maybe even get a few hours of sleep. He hadn't gotten much the night before.



He hadn't been in his room long when the door opened without even a warning knock. The reeds filled with salt at the doorway were scattered aside. Deanie popped between instantly, but they had seen the fire lizard, Sam was certain. This time he fought. He was not going to let Serance have another chance at him. The guards were ill-prepared for Sam's strength and fighting skills, and even less prepared for a fire lizard diving at them and raking them with his claws.



There were four of them though and they used Sam's severely scored back to their advantage and before long, they had subdued the young man. Sam ordered Deanie away. The guards practically had to drag Sam to the library. It was but a small consolation to Sam that it wasn't Serance's private quarters. They bound his arms to the chair and his ankles to the chair legs. One guard stayed in the room, ensuring he didn't try to escape. Time ticked by and even with his aching back, Sam found himself drowsing off.

The boots of the Lord Holder's son rang loudly, echoing in the hall as Serance reached the library and pushed the doors open. His lips twisted into a thin smile at the sight of Sam sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the arms. "You must have enjoyed your last punishment." He shut the heavy doors with finality.

Serance's voice startled Sam instantly awake and he saw that the guard was gone. It was just him and Serance.

"You think silence will aid your cause?" Serance asked, his voice as hard as the flint-like glint in his eyes.



Sam stared a moment at the Lord Holder's son. There was nothing he could do. Serance could do what he wanted; it wasn't as if Sam could really do anything to stop him, just as the night before. As soon as he was free, he was gone. He didn't have to have anything out of his quarters. The things he packed would have helped, but he knew he could survive. He turned his head and stared into the shadows of the library. He knew nothing he could say would make any difference and he was not going to give the man the pleasure of any respect, any begging, or any screams. This was no longer his hold as far as he was concerned. It was his temporary prison and Serance was no longer his Lord.

"Ah... So you still think you're better than everyone else." Angry steps ate up the distance between them and Serance used the gloves clutched in his hand to slap Sam across the face. "You are a parentless drudge. You will always be a drudge, and having a stolen fire lizard will not change your status," he snarled, slapping him the other way. "Do you know I can have you put in a holding box for months for theft? Out in the sun, in a small space... it's no more than you deserve."

The slaps stung but little more. Serance's threat was real and he knew it. He also knew if that were to happen, Deanie would bring him food and probably find a way to bring him water, and keep him company. They would have to let him out eventually. Who knew, maybe Deanie could find someone who would help Sam. The young man met the Holder's son's gaze coolly and lifted his chin defiantly, but he still remained silent. He decided then that he might not be better than everyone in the Hold, but he was better than the arrogant bastard before him.

"Ahhh... you're one of those," Serance said, eyes growing a little wild. "You enjoy punishment. You goad me to it... I understand," he nodded, speaking softly, almost gently.



Sam almost snorted. Yeah. He loved having his back turned into ground meat. It was on his list of things to do at least once a week.



"I know a little something about needs like that. We might make a perfect pair..."



It didn't surprise Sam that Serance enjoyed punishing people. He had always had a harsh hand, one that had grown harsher since his father had become bedridden. Never mind the whispers that the illness was inexplicable and came over the man slowly once Serance was of age to become Lord Holder himself.



Leaning down, Serance slanted his mouth over Sam's, kissing him softly, then snapping, "open your mouth for me. Now."



The kiss almost startled Sam and probably would have if not for the night before. It had surprised him then and that was, in part, why the man had gotten his tongue inside Sam's mouth. Not this time, though. At Serance's demand he continued to look ahead and clenched his jaw tight. He briefly considered doing just what the man ordered and biting the bastard's tongue off.

"Fecking piece of dung!" Serance gripped Sam's jaw with one hand, and pinched his nose with the other.



Serance's finger's were gripping his jaw so tightly Sam was certain there would be bruises. He kept his jaw clenched but parted his lip, his breath whispering through his teeth.



Serance brought his mouth crushing down over Sam's again.



Sam tried to pull away and couldn't and couldn't even steal breath from Serance's mouth. When Sam had no choice he finally opened his mouth.



The wait was short, though longer than he expected and Serance pushed his tongue deep inside the drudge's mouth... it was as hot and good as he remembered.



With Serance's lips fastened over his own, he expected Serance to relent and let him breathe, but the man didn't. The man's fingers continued to dig into his jaw and any thought of trying to bite Serance's tongue was lost as he grew a little light-headed from lack of oxygen and struggled to try to break free so he could breathe.



Even when he felt Sam thrashing, he didn't release his nose, kissing him harder... so hard he tasted blood but didn't know whose it was. Yes he was his... he belonged to Serance... to do with as he wished.



Groaning a little and tasting his own blood from the brutality of the kiss, Sam gave Serance what he knew the man wanted, tangling his tongue with Serance's own. Anything to return the breath to his lungs. Finally the man released his nose, Serance's hand cupping the back of his head, keeping their mouth pressed together. His brief attempt to close his jaw again resulted in a tighter grip and nails digging in to is skin. Hating that he had no choice, he accepted the deep kiss and stopped fighting, letting the man's foul tongue roam freely and unthreatened in his mouth. He gave only what response he had to.

Blood pounded at Serance's temples as he got what he wanted, the way he wanted it, his way. His heart beat like drums in a distance, he could barely hear over the sound. Digging his thumb into Sam's cheek, he caught the sound of a pained groan that had him instantly hard and heavy between his legs. He gripped a handful of Sam's hair, tugging it hard as he broke the kiss and stared into his face to see rebellion in those hazel eyes. "I will break you," he promised. "You're mine to do with as I will... and I will break you."



Sam refused to let the man bait him as painful as the grip in his hair was, the pressure of the chair against his back, his bruised and bleeding lips. No, he would keep his silence. It seemed to upset the man that Sam wouldn't speak and he remembered how he had begged the night prior. That would never happen again, he vowed. He would never give that man that type of pleasure again.

Images of using the antechamber to his bedroom, leaving Sam tied to the bed there, to be used whenever he had a need to slake his lust... they brought a cruel smile to Serance's face. It would come to pass. He straddled Sam's thighs, sat and ground his hips forward, careless of the fact that his heavy belt and attachments would scrape and injure the drudge through the thin material of his tunic. "Soon you will know your true calling."



Trying to hide his wince, he still inhaled sharply as the man's belt dug into his flesh. Just as the night before, the proof of Serance's obvious desire was pressed against him. He was glad for the pain of the belt against him. Last night his own flesh had betrayed him, finding arousal as the Lord Holder's son rutted against him. The pain precluded the possibility, at least, Sam hoped it did. If Serance managed to draw any hint of arousal, no matter how unwanted, Sam knew he would never have peace. He might was well just go to the man's room, be put in chains, bend over, and let Serance at him.

Panting out his breaths, Serance cupped Sam's jaw again and dragged him close for another brutal kiss. The drudge needed to learn who his master was, and Serance was more than pleased to teach him.

Sam fought against the man, trying to pull away, but Serance dug his fingers into Sam's injured back and Sam gasped arching forward. That movement not only pressed his lips into the man's but his mouth was open and he felt the man's tongue dive back in.


Heavy knocks on the door and calls of "Lord Serance" brought Serance out of the grips of lust. "Do not think to leave," he told Sam, giving him a warning look, before standing and straightening his clothes. He proudly stared at the damage to Sam's bruised and swollen lips. "My mark suits you," he said gruffly, turning on his heels and walking out the door, ordering that no one enter the library.




Flanked by several of his men, he strode down the hallway listening to their reports that dragonriders approached on a search.

"They have asked that all our youth, including women, be brought to the courtyard."

Dragons trumpeting from far above the hold, announcing their presence, raised Serance's hackles. "Parasites. And now they want the best of our workers. And why females? I hear there are no gold eggs in the clutch."

"It is a small clutch. Some say 'sickly.' They want the best of the best to try to repopulate," the man shrugged. The affairs of dragonriders were a mystery. Since the Lord Serance had begun to take over the master's functions, the hold had sent the worst of their crops and industry as their required tithe to the weyr. There was no great love between the hold and the weyr.

Outside, the courtyard had started to fill with people. Several dragons flew in the skies, watching closely. Two dragons walked freely in the courtyard, scaring the holdfolk away, while their arrogant riders came to meet with Serance.

Weyrleader K'tol and one of his wingmen, M'rim, approached Lord Serance. K'tol despised the young son and knew the feeling was mutual. The tithe from the Hold to support the Weyr had declined in quality to the point K'tol was ready to have a 'discussion' about the situation. The Lord Holder was quite ill from what he had heard or he would demand a meeting with the Lord. With the clutch not far off from hatching, he had decided on a different plan of action though. Let Serance get a taste of his own medicine.



"We've come to collect candidates for the hatching. We need the best and strongest if we have any hopes of keeping enough dragons in the sky to protect Ista Hold. Nimara, my bronze, is quite adamant that the old blood runs strong in you. You, Lord Serance, have been selected as a strong candidate."

"What?!" Serance's eyebrows drew together in fury. "You shall have to select again. I have obligations, a hold to run, I will not waste my time on this. If you want to choose... choose," he pointed at the people crowding the courtyard, some with hopeful expressions and others trying to make themselves invisible.

"You know our ways, and this hold has always held with tradition," M'rim said, glancing over at K'tol, before looking back at the unpleasant young man. "Your father is Lord of the hold..."

"And I inherit after him. I am exempt," Serance snarled. "Or have YOU forgotten the rules?"



K'tol smiled patiently at Serance. "You would be exempt if there were no other children of the Lord Holder. Seeing as how Guran is in fine health, the Hold would fall to him. After all, Lord Serance, you might one day end up Weyrleader, a title much more befitting a man with such strong old blood running through his veins." K'tol hoped that once Guran, a bastard son, but one much more reasonable and respectful of the dragonriders, was placed in charge, Serance might well find it hard to wrest control back. He had heard many of the hold found Serance's ways as unpleasant as he did, and the man was not well liked. Guran was and hopefully the people would back him. Or just maybe Serance might get trampled as dragonets hunted for suitable candidates. He had no doubt Serance would be right up front trying for a dragon and if that hateful young man impressed, K'tol would eat his gloves.

Serance flushed to a dark color. How dare the man bring up his bastard brother? "My father chose me. Me. You have no right..." Neither of the dragonriders blinked. They merely stared at him with their cool gazes as their dragons seemed to get restless and move towards them. A muscle pulsed in Serance's jaw. If he refused, they would draw on him but he was quite good with the sword as they would discover.

A second story window opened, and his father was wheeled to it. The Lord Holder's voice was weak, but the courtyard had gone silent so he could be heard. "You will go with them, Serance. It is your obligation to Pern."

Hatred filled Serance's eyes. He should have snuffed his father's life... he should have... Feeling someone grab his arm, he wrenched it away and walked toward the group of men and boys that had been selected as they were speaking. No matter, he wouldn't impress, and then he'd be back. His father would soon be gone, and his Sam... fecking hell, he regretted now that he had yet to bend him over a table. If any touched him in his absence...

The dragonriders dismissed those in the courtyard not selected, and other dragons set down one by one, collecting the candidates that would be taken to the weyr.

* * *

As soon as the door shut, Sam called for Deanie. The young fire lizard immediately appeared and began tearing at the leather bonds imprisoning his impressed. As soon as Deanie had gotten his one hand free Sam went to work on the rest of the bonds. "We're leaving Deanie. Now."



Sam crept to the library door and cracked it open. There were no guards. Should he go for his pack? No, he decided. Who knew what had drawn the Lord Holder's son away and how soon he would be back. Best Sam run and run now while he had the chance. The best route of escape would be through the east side. It would take him through a few halls with quarters. Maybe he could snag a thing or two, and then he would pass by the kitchen. He could grab a couple knives and a few water skins and maybe a few dishes. That would do.



He was surprised to find the halls empty but when he heard the trumpeting of the dragons, he assumed most of his fellow holders were out in the courtyard. He always loved watching the dragons. He had never gotten to see one up close and now probably never would, but that was okay. He had his Deanie and that was plenty enough dragon for him.



With everyone otherwise occupied, Sam slipped into the quarters of a man he knew was about his size. He stripped the blanket from the bed, tossed in two shirts hanging on hooks, one pair of pants and some rope. He didn't have time to rummage so was back out the door in practically just a breath or two. With no one in the halls, he ran toward the kitchen. It was empty and he smiled at his good fortune. He snatched up a couple knives and eating utensils, a couple loaves of bread, a pot, cup and plate, two water skins, some dried meat for himself, and a small haunch of meat he could feed Deanie. He twisted the blanket closed and used a piece of rope to tie it shut and was out the east exit like a shot. He set a good pace for the distant tree line, Deanie flying excitedly around him.

M'rim was about to mount his dragon when said dragon started to turn its great head in the opposite direction. A low rumbling sound came from him. One hand on the great beast, M'rim walked alongside the dragon, listening to its mental thoughts. "Over there," he shouted at a few dragonriders who were coming back from searching one of the guilds.

The two men ran, saw a youth with a fire lizard, and caught up, grabbing him by the arms. "Hold still."

Sam wrenched himself free of the hands that had grabbed him. He was not going back to Serance. It took him a moment to realize they weren't guards but dragonriders. He watched them suspiciously and backed out of their reach. Deanie had landed on his shoulder, wrapped his tail around Sam's neck and hissed at the men threateningly.



M'rim walked quickly to them. "What have we here?" A smile crossed his features when he saw the boy who was surely less than twenty-five turns carrying a prized lizard. If he'd impressed a cousin of the dragons...

<<I am no cousin to a lizard>> M'rim's dragon was quick to remind him.

"You. What's your name?"



Sam measured the dragonrider. "I'm not going back to the Hold," he said firmly, his eyes narrowing as he took a step back. Serance didn't like the weyr but he certainly wouldn't be above using them to go after Sam and Sam knew it. His makeshift bag of supplies would make an adequate weapon to knock at least one of the men flat. He had no idea if he could make the tree line before the dragons caught up with him, but he would try.

"No, no you're not," the dragonrider agreed. "You weren't in the courtyard with the others. Why?" His gaze slid over the man's injured face, a frown forming on his forehead.



Brow furrowing, he was a little surprised by the dragonrider's words that he wasn't going to take Sam back and not sure he really believed the man. Sam debated a moment then said, "I was being punished because I'd impressed Deanie and because I was 'stealing' meat for him from the kitchen. Deanie cut me loose and I intend to stay free. I'll survive holdless. Unless one of you wants to fly me to the Mainland just leave me be. Deanie and I will do just fine on our own."

M'rim's smile widened, as did that of the other men. If this youth showed such loyalty to a fire lizard, he had great prospects at becoming a dragonrider. "No need for you to go holdless, not without first trying your luck. Tell me, how would you feel about being one of us, a dragonrider?" he asked, chest puffing out slightly. "A clutch is about to hatch and we are on a search. Power runs through your veins, my dragon senses it."



Sam's eyes slid to the nearby dragon. That would certainly make Serance think twice about going after him. And he could fly anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. The thought of being a dragonrider! Wouldn't his mother and father be so proud! But he wouldn't let the dragonriders know how much even the idea meant to him. Whenever anyone discovered how much something, anything, meant to him, Serance found out and it was summarily taken away. If he wasn't so damned good at hunting for herbs and such, long ago Giles would have been told not to let him do it.



His gaze flicked back to the man. "One condition. If I don't get a dragon, you take me to the Mainland and put me down where ever I want, and no one in Ista ever learns where that was. Otherwise? Not interested."

Taking his measure, M'rim nodded. "Done."



Sam hesitated, then gave a curt nod. "Okay." He calmed his hissing fire lizard with a thought, but the lizard kept its tail wrapped firmly around Sam's neck.



Now this one... this one, he had high hopes for. "Go with Toth," M'rim pointed, watching with even more approval as Sam exhibited no fear upon approaching the the dragon and mounted the large creature.



Once Sam settled himself with his bags of things in his lap, he couldn't help but reach up and stroke the dragon's neck. It's skin was so like Deanie's and yet so different. After petting the dragon once he reached up and rubbed his fire lizard's cheek. He was actually getting away from Serance! That thought made him not just smile, but flat out grin.

* * *

(Joint post)

Word had spread like wildfire throughout the hold. A drudge had seen Sam in the storeroom stealing food. When the drudge confronted him, a fire lizard had appeared. By the time the story that Sam had a fire lizard was told and retold, the fire lizard was reportedly enormous, with claws longer and sharper than anything before it, and it had taken out the poor drudge's eyes.

When Serance finished with the boy, whose eyes appeared to be in his head where they belonged, he had the whole story. He'd told his father, who was mostly bedridden, that Samuel had found an egg and instead of reporting it, had horded it for himself. His father had always coveted the fire lizard of his cousin, Lord Maloch, and was easily incensed by Sam's reported actions. He'd told Serance to deal with him most severely... and Serance would.

*



Sam could only gape at Giles when the steward told him he wasn't allowed to leave the Hold. He bit back his fury. Serance thought he would be able to keep him here? No. He would do his assigned job for the day, then this very eve he would take his backpack and slip out the door. He would travel well up the coast, find a decent cave, hopefully with a tidal pool, and live there for a while. Then he would work his way back and wait for the traders. When the traders were leaving, he would offer labor in exchange for joining them.



That, at any rate, had been his plan, especially seeing as how a kitchen drudge had seen Deanie. He knew it wouldn't take long for the word to get around. And it didn't. That evening he was forced to have dinner with everyone else. He heard the whispers and saw the looks. He would not bring Deanie out and confirm a scorched thing for them. He felt Serance's eyes on him and tried to keep his attention focused on his meal. As soon as he had eaten, he returned to his room. The others could do the cleanup. It wasn't his job even though he had often helped in the past. Tonight he needed to make sure he had everything he needed and maybe even get a few hours of sleep. He hadn't gotten much the night before.



He hadn't been in his room long when the door opened without even a warning knock. The reeds filled with salt at the doorway were scattered aside. Deanie popped between instantly, but they had seen the fire lizard, Sam was certain. This time he fought. He was not going to let Serance have another chance at him. The guards were ill-prepared for Sam's strength and fighting skills, and even less prepared for a fire lizard diving at them and raking them with his claws.



There were four of them though and they used Sam's severely scored back to their advantage and before long, they had subdued the young man. Sam ordered Deanie away. The guards practically had to drag Sam to the library. It was but a small consolation to Sam that it wasn't Serance's private quarters. They bound his arms to the chair and his ankles to the chair legs. One guard stayed in the room, ensuring he didn't try to escape. Time ticked by and even with his aching back, Sam found himself drowsing off.

The boots of the Lord Holder's son rang loudly, echoing in the hall as Serance reached the library and pushed the doors open. His lips twisted into a thin smile at the sight of Sam sitting in a chair, his wrists bound to the arms. "You must have enjoyed your last punishment." He shut the heavy doors with finality.

Serance's voice startled Sam instantly awake and he saw that the guard was gone. It was just him and Serance.

"You think silence will aid your cause?" Serance asked, his voice as hard as the flint-like glint in his eyes.



Sam stared a moment at the Lord Holder's son. There was nothing he could do. Serance could do what he wanted; it wasn't as if Sam could really do anything to stop him, just as the night before. As soon as he was free, he was gone. He didn't have to have anything out of his quarters. The things he packed would have helped, but he knew he could survive. He turned his head and stared into the shadows of the library. He knew nothing he could say would make any difference and he was not going to give the man the pleasure of any respect, any begging, or any screams. This was no longer his hold as far as he was concerned. It was his temporary prison and Serance was no longer his Lord.

"Ah... So you still think you're better than everyone else." Angry steps ate up the distance between them and Serance used the gloves clutched in his hand to slap Sam across the face. "You are a parentless drudge. You will always be a drudge, and having a stolen fire lizard will not change your status," he snarled, slapping him the other way. "Do you know I can have you put in a holding box for months for theft? Out in the sun, in a small space... it's no more than you deserve."

The slaps stung but little more. Serance's threat was real and he knew it. He also knew if that were to happen, Deanie would bring him food and probably find a way to bring him water, and keep him company. They would have to let him out eventually. Who knew, maybe Deanie could find someone who would help Sam. The young man met the Holder's son's gaze coolly and lifted his chin defiantly, but he still remained silent. He decided then that he might not be better than everyone in the Hold, but he was better than the arrogant bastard before him.

"Ahhh... you're one of those," Serance said, eyes growing a little wild. "You enjoy punishment. You goad me to it... I understand," he nodded, speaking softly, almost gently.



Sam almost snorted. Yeah. He loved having his back turned into ground meat. It was on his list of things to do at least once a week.



"I know a little something about needs like that. We might make a perfect pair..."



It didn't surprise Sam that Serance enjoyed punishing people. He had always had a harsh hand, one that had grown harsher since his father had become bedridden. Never mind the whispers that the illness was inexplicable and came over the man slowly once Serance was of age to become Lord Holder himself.



Leaning down, Serance slanted his mouth over Sam's, kissing him softly, then snapping, "open your mouth for me. Now."



The kiss almost startled Sam and probably would have if not for the night before. It had surprised him then and that was, in part, why the man had gotten his tongue inside Sam's mouth. Not this time, though. At Serance's demand he continued to look ahead and clenched his jaw tight. He briefly considered doing just what the man ordered and biting the bastard's tongue off.

"Fecking piece of dung!" Serance gripped Sam's jaw with one hand, and pinched his nose with the other.



Serance's finger's were gripping his jaw so tightly Sam was certain there would be bruises. He kept his jaw clenched but parted his lip, his breath whispering through his teeth.



Serance brought his mouth crushing down over Sam's again.



Sam tried to pull away and couldn't and couldn't even steal breath from Serance's mouth. When Sam had no choice he finally opened his mouth.



The wait was short, though longer than he expected and Serance pushed his tongue deep inside the drudge's mouth... it was as hot and good as he remembered.



With Serance's lips fastened over his own, he expected Serance to relent and let him breathe, but the man didn't. The man's fingers continued to dig into his jaw and any thought of trying to bite Serance's tongue was lost as he grew a little light-headed from lack of oxygen and struggled to try to break free so he could breathe.



Even when he felt Sam thrashing, he didn't release his nose, kissing him harder... so hard he tasted blood but didn't know whose it was. Yes he was his... he belonged to Serance... to do with as he wished.



Groaning a little and tasting his own blood from the brutality of the kiss, Sam gave Serance what he knew the man wanted, tangling his tongue with Serance's own. Anything to return the breath to his lungs. Finally the man released his nose, Serance's hand cupping the back of his head, keeping their mouth pressed together. His brief attempt to close his jaw again resulted in a tighter grip and nails digging in to is skin. Hating that he had no choice, he accepted the deep kiss and stopped fighting, letting the man's foul tongue roam freely and unthreatened in his mouth. He gave only what response he had to.

Blood pounded at Serance's temples as he got what he wanted, the way he wanted it, his way. His heart beat like drums in a distance, he could barely hear over the sound. Digging his thumb into Sam's cheek, he caught the sound of a pained groan that had him instantly hard and heavy between his legs. He gripped a handful of Sam's hair, tugging it hard as he broke the kiss and stared into his face to see rebellion in those hazel eyes. "I will break you," he promised. "You're mine to do with as I will... and I will break you."



Sam refused to let the man bait him as painful as the grip in his hair was, the pressure of the chair against his back, his bruised and bleeding lips. No, he would keep his silence. It seemed to upset the man that Sam wouldn't speak and he remembered how he had begged the night prior. That would never happen again, he vowed. He would never give that man that type of pleasure again.

Images of using the antechamber to his bedroom, leaving Sam tied to the bed there, to be used whenever he had a need to slake his lust... they brought a cruel smile to Serance's face. It would come to pass. He straddled Sam's thighs, sat and ground his hips forward, careless of the fact that his heavy belt and attachments would scrape and injure the drudge through the thin material of his tunic. "Soon you will know your true calling."



Trying to hide his wince, he still inhaled sharply as the man's belt dug into his flesh. Just as the night before, the proof of Serance's obvious desire was pressed against him. He was glad for the pain of the belt against him. Last night his own flesh had betrayed him, finding arousal as the Lord Holder's son rutted against him. The pain precluded the possibility, at least, Sam hoped it did. If Serance managed to draw any hint of arousal, no matter how unwanted, Sam knew he would never have peace. He might was well just go to the man's room, be put in chains, bend over, and let Serance at him.

Panting out his breaths, Serance cupped Sam's jaw again and dragged him close for another brutal kiss. The drudge needed to learn who his master was, and Serance was more than pleased to teach him.

Sam fought against the man, trying to pull away, but Serance dug his fingers into Sam's injured back and Sam gasped arching forward. That movement not only pressed his lips into the man's but his mouth was open and he felt the man's tongue dive back in.


Heavy knocks on the door and calls of "Lord Serance" brought Serance out of the grips of lust. "Do not think to leave," he told Sam, giving him a warning look, before standing and straightening his clothes. He proudly stared at the damage to Sam's bruised and swollen lips. "My mark suits you," he said gruffly, turning on his heels and walking out the door, ordering that no one enter the library.




Flanked by several of his men, he strode down the hallway listening to their reports that dragonriders approached on a search.

"They have asked that all our youth, including women, be brought to the courtyard."

Dragons trumpeting from far above the hold, announcing their presence, raised Serance's hackles. "Parasites. And now they want the best of our workers. And why females? I hear there are no gold eggs in the clutch."

"It is a small clutch. Some say 'sickly.' They want the best of the best to try to repopulate," the man shrugged. The affairs of dragonriders were a mystery. Since the Lord Serance had begun to take over the master's functions, the hold had sent the worst of their crops and industry as their required tithe to the weyr. There was no great love between the hold and the weyr.

Outside, the courtyard had started to fill with people. Several dragons flew in the skies, watching closely. Two dragons walked freely in the courtyard, scaring the holdfolk away, while their arrogant riders came to meet with Serance.

Weyrleader K'tol and one of his wingmen, M'rim, approached Lord Serance. K'tol despised the young son and knew the feeling was mutual. The tithe from the Hold to support the Weyr had declined in quality to the point K'tol was ready to have a 'discussion' about the situation. The Lord Holder was quite ill from what he had heard or he would demand a meeting with the Lord. With the clutch not far off from hatching, he had decided on a different plan of action though. Let Serance get a taste of his own medicine.



"We've come to collect candidates for the hatching. We need the best and strongest if we have any hopes of keeping enough dragons in the sky to protect Ista Hold. Nimara, my bronze, is quite adamant that the old blood runs strong in you. You, Lord Serance, have been selected as a strong candidate."

"What?!" Serance's eyebrows drew together in fury. "You shall have to select again. I have obligations, a hold to run, I will not waste my time on this. If you want to choose... choose," he pointed at the people crowding the courtyard, some with hopeful expressions and others trying to make themselves invisible.

"You know our ways, and this hold has always held with tradition," M'rim said, glancing over at K'tol, before looking back at the unpleasant young man. "Your father is Lord of the hold..."

"And I inherit after him. I am exempt," Serance snarled. "Or have YOU forgotten the rules?"



K'tol smiled patiently at Serance. "You would be exempt if there were no other children of the Lord Holder. Seeing as how Guran is in fine health, the Hold would fall to him. After all, Lord Serance, you might one day end up Weyrleader, a title much more befitting a man with such strong old blood running through his veins." K'tol hoped that once Guran, a bastard son, but one much more reasonable and respectful of the dragonriders, was placed in charge, Serance might well find it hard to wrest control back. He had heard many of the hold found Serance's ways as unpleasant as he did, and the man was not well liked. Guran was and hopefully the people would back him. Or just maybe Serance might get trampled as dragonets hunted for suitable candidates. He had no doubt Serance would be right up front trying for a dragon and if that hateful young man impressed, K'tol would eat his gloves.

Serance flushed to a dark color. How dare the man bring up his bastard brother? "My father chose me. Me. You have no right..." Neither of the dragonriders blinked. They merely stared at him with their cool gazes as their dragons seemed to get restless and move towards them. A muscle pulsed in Serance's jaw. If he refused, they would draw on him but he was quite good with the sword as they would discover.

A second story window opened, and his father was wheeled to it. The Lord Holder's voice was weak, but the courtyard had gone silent so he could be heard. "You will go with them, Serance. It is your obligation to Pern."

Hatred filled Serance's eyes. He should have snuffed his father's life... he should have... Feeling someone grab his arm, he wrenched it away and walked toward the group of men and boys that had been selected as they were speaking. No matter, he wouldn't impress, and then he'd be back. His father would soon be gone, and his Sam... fecking hell, he regretted now that he had yet to bend him over a table. If any touched him in his absence...

The dragonriders dismissed those in the courtyard not selected, and other dragons set down one by one, collecting the candidates that would be taken to the weyr.

* * *

As soon as the door shut, Sam called for Deanie. The young fire lizard immediately appeared and began tearing at the leather bonds imprisoning his impressed. As soon as Deanie had gotten his one hand free Sam went to work on the rest of the bonds. "We're leaving Deanie. Now."



Sam crept to the library door and cracked it open. There were no guards. Should he go for his pack? No, he decided. Who knew what had drawn the Lord Holder's son away and how soon he would be back. Best Sam run and run now while he had the chance. The best route of escape would be through the east side. It would take him through a few halls with quarters. Maybe he could snag a thing or two, and then he would pass by the kitchen. He could grab a couple knives and a few water skins and maybe a few dishes. That would do.



He was surprised to find the halls empty but when he heard the trumpeting of the dragons, he assumed most of his fellow holders were out in the courtyard. He always loved watching the dragons. He had never gotten to see one up close and now probably never would, but that was okay. He had his Deanie and that was plenty enough dragon for him.



With everyone otherwise occupied, Sam slipped into the quarters of a man he knew was about his size. He stripped the blanket from the bed, tossed in two shirts hanging on hooks, one pair of pants and some rope. He didn't have time to rummage so was back out the door in practically just a breath or two. With no one in the halls, he ran toward the kitchen. It was empty and he smiled at his good fortune. He snatched up a couple knives and eating utensils, a couple loaves of bread, a pot, cup and plate, two water skins, some dried meat for himself, and a small haunch of meat he could feed Deanie. He twisted the blanket closed and used a piece of rope to tie it shut and was out the east exit like a shot. He set a good pace for the distant tree line, Deanie flying excitedly around him.

M'rim was about to mount his dragon when said dragon started to turn its great head in the opposite direction. A low rumbling sound came from him. One hand on the great beast, M'rim walked alongside the dragon, listening to its mental thoughts. "Over there," he shouted at a few dragonriders who were coming back from searching one of the guilds.

The two men ran, saw a youth with a fire lizard, and caught up, grabbing him by the arms. "Hold still."

Sam wrenched himself free of the hands that had grabbed him. He was not going back to Serance. It took him a moment to realize they weren't guards but dragonriders. He watched them suspiciously and backed out of their reach. Deanie had landed on his shoulder, wrapped his tail around Sam's neck and hissed at the men threateningly.



M'rim walked quickly to them. "What have we here?" A smile crossed his features when he saw the boy who was surely less than twenty-five turns carrying a prized lizard. If he'd impressed a cousin of the dragons...

<<I am no cousin to a lizard>> M'rim's dragon was quick to remind him.

"You. What's your name?"



Sam measured the dragonrider. "I'm not going back to the Hold," he said firmly, his eyes narrowing as he took a step back. Serance didn't like the weyr but he certainly wouldn't be above using them to go after Sam and Sam knew it. His makeshift bag of supplies would make an adequate weapon to knock at least one of the men flat. He had no idea if he could make the tree line before the dragons caught up with him, but he would try.

"No, no you're not," the dragonrider agreed. "You weren't in the courtyard with the others. Why?" His gaze slid over the man's injured face, a frown forming on his forehead.



Brow furrowing, he was a little surprised by the dragonrider's words that he wasn't going to take Sam back and not sure he really believed the man. Sam debated a moment then said, "I was being punished because I'd impressed Deanie and because I was 'stealing' meat for him from the kitchen. Deanie cut me loose and I intend to stay free. I'll survive holdless. Unless one of you wants to fly me to the Mainland just leave me be. Deanie and I will do just fine on our own."

M'rim's smile widened, as did that of the other men. If this youth showed such loyalty to a fire lizard, he had great prospects at becoming a dragonrider. "No need for you to go holdless, not without first trying your luck. Tell me, how would you feel about being one of us, a dragonrider?" he asked, chest puffing out slightly. "A clutch is about to hatch and we are on a search. Power runs through your veins, my dragon senses it."



Sam's eyes slid to the nearby dragon. That would certainly make Serance think twice about going after him. And he could fly anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. The thought of being a dragonrider! Wouldn't his mother and father be so proud! But he wouldn't let the dragonriders know how much even the idea meant to him. Whenever anyone discovered how much something, anything, meant to him, Serance found out and it was summarily taken away. If he wasn't so damned good at hunting for herbs and such, long ago Giles would have been told not to let him do it.



His gaze flicked back to the man. "One condition. If I don't get a dragon, you take me to the Mainland and put me down where ever I want, and no one in Ista ever learns where that was. Otherwise? Not interested."

Taking his measure, M'rim nodded. "Done."



Sam hesitated, then gave a curt nod. "Okay." He calmed his hissing fire lizard with a thought, but the lizard kept its tail wrapped firmly around Sam's neck.



Now this one... this one, he had high hopes for. "Go with Toth," M'rim pointed, watching with even more approval as Sam exhibited no fear upon approaching the the dragon and mounted the large creature.



Once Sam settled himself with his bags of things in his lap, he couldn't help but reach up and stroke the dragon's neck. It's skin was so like Deanie's and yet so different. After petting the dragon once he reached up and rubbed his fire lizard's cheek. He was actually getting away from Serance! That thought made him not just smile, but flat out grin.

* * *

(Joint post)

W'tal and his dragon Toth took Sam to the weyr, flying the short distance rather than going between since Sam was not dressed for the cold of between. When Sam climbed down from the dragon's back, he stumbled a little and gave a small strangled gasp as the material of his shirt pulled across his badly scored back. Deanie flew around him worriedly, chirruping.

The headwoman showed Sam to a room that had bunk beds. "Take any one that doesn't have a candidate's personal belongings on it," she said. Then she gave him the meal schedule, and told him that for the time he was here at the weyr, waiting on the hatching, he would be expected to take instructions with the rest of the candidates. The old ballads had to be memorized, history had to be learned. "If you're lucky enough to impress, you'll have your own weyr. And if not..." she shrugged her slim shoulders, "they will either take you back or if you want to stay, we'll have to find work for you." Some were professional candidates, having gone through many turns of hatchings without impressing.



Sam nodded his understanding and found a lower bunk in the corner. All the bunks were too short for his long frame and while he would prefer an upper bunk, it would be easier to locate something he could simply sit it at the end of his bed. He set his bag of belongings on the bed. It wasn't even his stuff and he suddenly wished he had gone for his backpack. Maybe he could ask for someone to bring him his pack?



He was startled when Deanie suddenly popped in and dropped Sam's mug on the bed. He was gone again and back almost immediately with Sam's knife. Deanie popped back and forth until the final trip which he brought the backpack that held the two jars, one of numbweed and one of oil, as well as a vial of ink. Deanie collapsed onto the bed, obviously exhausted with the effort. Deanie chirped almost scoldingly at him as if to tell him next time not to leave things behind.



Laughing softly Sam opened the makeshift pack and got out the small haunch of raw meat and began cutting off small pieces and feeding them to his tired friend. Deanie snapped down the food and soon his belly was bulging. He curled up next to Sam, his breath still a little labored from his efforts.



Digging out the oil, he began to gently rub it in on Deanie's skin, praising him softly. "You silly thing. You didn't have to bring everything all at once. But thank you."



He had just finished oiling down his friend when he heard voices near the entrance. Other candidates were coming.

Several boys and a girl walked in and introduced themselves, then two additional older boys walked in. One of them was Serance who was talking to the other candidate but stopped mid-speech seeing Sam. "You." His eyes burned with lust.

"Oh, you know each other?" Selina looked between the two boys. "You should ask to be reassigned to this room," she told Serance. "Then you can be with your friend."



Deanie felt the fear and fury spike in Sam and the little bronze fire lizard was immediately up and on Sam's shoulder, perched and ready to attack, his tail lashing, his gaze focused on the Lord Holder's son.



"He's no friend of mine," Sam grit from between clenched teeth. He glared hatefully at Serance. He let a small evil smile curve his lips, "But by all means Serance, get reassigned to my room. I'll make sure you...sleep...well."



The rest of the candidates were silent, watching the two young men, a few giving Sam and the angry fire lizard on his shoulder a bit more room.



Sam debated about immediately packing up his meager supplies and leaving. But if Serance impressed, and someone obviously thought he might, Serance and his dragon would hunt Sam down and he knew it. Sam would be forced to remain at Ista. But could the selfish bastard that Serance was manage to impress a dragon? Sam had no idea. If Sam stayed and impressed a dragon he would have some recourse and he certainly would be free of Serance if Serance didn't impress. If Sam didn't impress, that dragonrider had promised to take him to the north. He would find a place that Serance couldn't touch him, dragon or no dragon. Somehow. Even with that somewhat reassuring thought, a small part inside him despaired of ever escaping the Holder's son's lascivious attention.

Serance gave an easy smile. "You grow too big for your britches, drudge. As for which of us might put the other to sleep, only a fool would bet on you." Trained in war arts, Serance was quite sure he could best the drudge even if only the drudge had weapons and he used his bare hands. "Your selection means no--"

Selina crossed her arms. "We are all equal here, and you should go to your assigned barrack now." Turning her back to him, she flounced over to Sam and flashing him a smile, claimed the bunk on top of his.

Sam's shock at the young woman taking such a tone with the holder's son was reflected in Deanie as Deanie stopped hissing and instead looked inquisitively at her. She smiled at him and even took the bunk overhead? Was she crazy?

Serance's eyes grew dark with anger. If she laid a hand on what was his...

One look back at Serance made his stomach twist. It was a warning to Sam, a warning to her, but she seemed completely unbothered by the threat. He would keep Serance's anger focused on himself and protect the foolish girl who didn't realize how dangerous a man Serance could be.



Sam typically kept his shoulders a little hunched so his full height wasn't readily apparent, and to help him duck through some of the lower doors, but he straightened, ignoring the feeling of some of the scabs on his back shift and crack open a little.



"Guess I'm no drudge anymore," Sam told him. "And you aren't a Lord. You're just a candidate. Just. Like. Me."

"Enjoy your dreams, that is all they are. I've shown you before, but I must have been too gentle."

Selina looked down from where she sat on her bunk. "Don't listen to him. All the noble ones start off with such talk but they make the most mistakes because they know not how to obey and perform their chores. Very quickly, they learn that the weyrlingmaster's crop marks their backsides the same as it does ours," she snickered.

Some of the other boys nodded at Serance to leave.

"This is not finished." Turning on his heels, the nobleman left, barreling through another group of candidates coming to the barracks.

Sam gave a small sigh at Selina's comment about the crop. "Guess it was too much to hope for that a weyr would be any different than a hold. Are we permitted to go see the healer?"



Now that some of his adrenaline had worn off and he was with those of his own rank, he felt he could let his guard down a little. Enough to ask questions, anyhow. He figured the snickers and jests would come soon enough. That and the ostracism. Serance would see to that as well. He shouldn't even bother trying to get to know those in the same barracks as he was in. What was the point?



His wrists were beginning to ache from the tight leather bindings and when Deanie had helped free him, the fire lizard's sharp claws and teeth and nicked his skin in a few places. He probably ought to get some salt water for that, and he needed a fresh saltwater rinse across his back and some more numbweed slathered on, just to help him sleep tonight. All the movement, and the pressure against his back while he was tied up, that had all taken a toll on him. He wouldn't bother the healer after today though. He would suffer through okay. He had enough old scars from accidents and disciplines, he was used to it. The back was just inconvenient. He would probably do well to sleep with his shirt off tonight to let the wounds breathe.



He shut his eyes a moment. He forgot his reeds filled with salt. He hadn't worried about them because he had planned to make new ones once he got where ever he was going, but he couldn't very well explain why he wanted to put them at the doorway of the barracks. He didn't know himself, in all truth, but it was a compulsion. Everyone thought he was crazy anyhow. He could put them around the perimeter of his bed, but the reeds he had wouldn't be enough. The thought of not having the salt around him while he slept gave him a cold chill. He would have to get more salt and make some more. He would ask Deanie to retrieve the reeds once the little fire lizard had recovered from bringing him everything else.

"The rules are posted on the door," she answered, laying on her stomach and hanging down the side of the bed to look down at him. "If you can't read, I'll read them to you. We get up when the dragons bugle, breakfast, and the the weyrlingmaster will either schedule us for class or give us chores. You cannot socialize unless the chores are completed, or you have learned the day's lessons. You must be in bed by the time the dragons bugle again in the evening. It's not difficult for those of us used to it," she grinned, then sobered. "You look sad. Why did you ask about the healer? There are no restrictions."



"I can read," Sam confirmed. "I'll read them before I go to the healer's."



The days didn't sound terribly difficult though he would miss being outside and walking the shoreline, hunting for herbs and being away from the hold and people. Maybe the healer here would need supplies and he could still get outside, maybe that was one of the chores. He knew where all the best herbs were, after all.



He gave her a brief smile at her question of why he looked sad. "It's probably best if Serance doesn't see you talking to me. It will just get you in trouble. He doesn't...he doesn't like people talking to me except to give me my work for the day.



"I need to get some salt water for my wrist and my back from the healer. And I need some more numbweed put on my back. I already have some, so I won't be using the weyr's supplies," he assured her. Hastily he added, "I'm sure I won't need numbweed after tonight. I can do my chores."

"So that's how it is." She shook her head, knowing he wouldn't want to talk about it, but understanding completely. "They take good care of us, share the supplies they have. The healer will give you what you need."



He felt some small measure of relief that he could go see the healer and get his back taken care of.


The sound of heavy boots striking stone rang out, and weyrlingmaster D'rak came in. "You have a half candle mark to use the bathing pools, after which you will proceed to the main dining hall. The harper is here and will be instructing you. Questions?" Without waiting for any, he walked out.

Sam immediately memorized the man's face. He didn't know who he was, but obviously he was someone in command.



Selina scrambled off the bed. "Hurry, they have warm water... this is a treat," she said, grabbing Sam's arm and pulling him up as the other candidates grabbed fresh clothes and drying cloths. She pointed to his candidate robes at the foot of his bed. "If they're too short, you will need to see the headwoman."

"Warm water?" he said. He couldn't remember the last time he had a warm bath. He always went after he got in at night and the water was rarely warm to begin with. In fact, by the time he could get to the baths, they were generally pretty cold.



Her physical contact startled him and Deanie squawked at her. His gaze followed her indication to the foot of the bed. He picked up the robe and held it up. It barely came to his knees. Great. Something else to be laughed at about. He would be lucky to get proper robes in a month he figured, but by then the hatching would be over and it wouldn't matter. He didn't really see the sense in asking for them.


He waited for the others to file out in front of him. Maybe they would let him in the pools before the candle reached its mark. He really would like to bathe since he hadn't had the chance the night before. The water would probably be dirty by that time though and with his back, he probably shouldn't go in. Well, he could just wipe down he supposed. It looked like he wouldn't get to see the healer until after his lessons and by then there would probably be more chores. He wondered how late the dragons bugled. Well, maybe he could get the girl--he didn't even know her name--to wipe down his back and put the numbweed on it tonight before bed. He should have just refused the dragonrider's offer. He could be halfway down the coast and fishing for spiderclaws for himself and Deanie and enjoying the sunshine if he had.

Seeing him dawdle, Selina came back and grabbed Sam. "Have to do things quickly around here," she said. All of the candidates made their way to a narrow set of stairs. Hand on the wall, they walked down into a large room with four pools of water, a bit of steam rising off them. Candidates from the second barracks joined them, and everyone started to strip and put their clothes on hooks. There were mostly boys but a few girls.

Serance took up a position from where he had a clear view of Samuel. He stripped very slowly, waiting on the drudge to do the same.



Sam slowly, carefully pulled off his shirt, wincing as he tried and finally succeeded in getting it over his head. He hung it on a hook, dark blood spots sprinkled across it here and there. He began to take off his boots when he felt as if he were being watched. He looked around and saw Serance standing on the other staircase, leering at him.



His breath caught in his throat and nearly choked him. He was not going to get undressed in front of that bastard.



"I, uh, I think I'll just rinse off and change. I'm not a big fan of baths anyhow," Sam told Selina and turned his back on her to take his shirt off the hook and put it back on.

She had started to take her robe off when she caught sight of his wounds and gasped. "What happened... who did that..." Eyes narrowed, she looked at Serance. You didn't have to be a quick study to know that one misused his power and was at odds with Sam. "You should bathe, if only to keep the wounds clean," she said, "wait a moment."

Quite the organizer, she had the boys from their barracks move behind Sam, forming a wall between him and his nemesis. "There. Now get in the water. I'll have your towel waiting for you when you're done." Directing a victorious look at Serance, she couldn't help feeling a cold shiver at the pure hatred in the man's eyes. She'd have to get Sam to talk to the weyrlingmaster. The man had power over all of the candidates, and then any who advanced to weyrling upon impression of dragons. He would set the holder's son straight on hierarchy around here.



Sam practically gaped at her. No one would ever do anything like this for him in the hold. After a moment of nervous hesitation, he quickly disrobed and got in the water, keeping his back to the candidates of the other barracks. Trying to be quick about it since he didn't want the others penalized and having to cut their bath time any shorter, he took a deep breath, readying himself for the pain he knew the water would cause. His breath hissed as he sank into the water and the warm liquid caressed the wounds. Giving it a ten count, he gently twisted back and forth to help clean his back. Starting to stand up and wash, he was surprised when the rest of the candidates jumped into the pool. He noticed how they still ringed him on one side, making certain Serance couldn't see anything below the water. He could take his time and actually enjoy the warm water. With their protection he felt almost safe from Serance, maybe for the first time. If it wouldn't have embarrassed him so much he would have cried in response to their kindness. He gave tentative smiles to the young men around him when they smiled at him reassuringly. He scooped up the soap sand and after washing himself, bit his already wounded lip as he forced himself to wash the wounds on his back that he could reach.

Seeing him struggling, Selina waded over to Sam. "I'll do it." With ample soap sand in her hand, she gently scrubbed those parts of Sam's back that were unmarred. Anger coursed through her body. "I hope he impresses green and some brown rider fecks him into ground and cuts off his..."

Catching glimpses of Sam, and of that girl's hand on what belonged to him, a snarl welled at the back of Serance's throat. But he was outnumbered and had to bide his time. For each touch, someone would pay... oh they would pay dearly. His arousal at the sight of Sam without his clothes was almost painful, and his inability to slake his lust on the drudge both angered him and sharpened his need. Once, when Sam turned in his direction, Serance openly moved his hand over his own flesh, letting the drudge see the recognizable back and forth motion of his arm... he'd know... he'd know, and that was all that was important.



Lowering himself so the girl could reach his back more easily he said, "I, uh, I don't even know your name. Mine's Sam." The young woman's hands worked so gently on his back. He was unaccustomed to such gentleness touching him.



"Selina," she said.



"Pleasure to meet you," Sam said politely, though that seemed really strange considering they were both naked in a bathing pool and she was washing away dried blood and old numbweed and salt. He glanced up and saw Serance...He quickly averted his eyes.



"Serance," he nearly spat the name, "he's dangerous Selina. You really shouldn't be showing me so much favor. There's no telling what he might do. He's the holder's son. He has a lot of power, even if you say he doesn't here, that he's just another candidate. He still has power."



Another boy, younger, with dark hair, waded up. "I'm a holder's son too. This is my fifth hatching, though I was at Benden for the last two. When Selina tells you noble blood doesn't mean anything, she's right. I've had to wash dishes and clean out...nasty things, just like any kitchen drudge. No offense," he added hastily. "It was eye opening and D'rak, the weyrlingmaster here? He loves to take nobility down a few notches. Serance will get his due soon enough. Besides! You're in our barracks and we all look out for each other. And most people here are not nobility and if it's one thing I've learned, non-nobles just love picking on nobility. I'm Zarlin, by the way."



Sam smiled and nodded a little, still feeling awkward and overwhelmed by it all. He gave a final glance at Serance and saw the man was still watching him. He shuddered and turned back to his new friends.

* * *

(joint post)

It was dark in the caverns, and quiet in the candidate barracks quarters. Candidates and weyrlings were forced to sleep early as they had long days ahead, and the rules were strictly enforced.

Serance nodded at Alderash to slip through the door of the barracks first. The man was used to following his instructions since he’d been a drudge at the hold. Following him, Serance waited for his eyes to adjust, and then walked straight to the bunk bed he’d been thinking about since the moment he’d laid eyes on his lanky obsession.

Looking into the lower bunk, he saw Sam was asleep, expression careless and laying on his stomach. The thought of his cock pressing into the thin mattress had Serance on edge. Leaning in, he clapped his hand over Sam’s mouth, sitting simultaneously down on the bed next to him, crouched down so his head would not touch the bottom of the upper bunk.

Sam practically jerked awake when the hand clamped over his mouth and his mind was busy trying to make sense of where he was, why he wasn't in his own bed, and in his own quarters. Deanie, sensing his sudden fear, popped between instantly.

The instant the youth’s eyes opened, Serance shook his head and leaned over to speak in his ear. “One sound, and your friend dies. You will be blamed, because the knife would be from your bed.”

Sam twisted his head a little and saw that at the foot of the bed, Alderash was holding the sharp edge of a long dagger up against the springs of the top bunk. Selina lay sleeping up there, her head and shoulders at about where the dagger was pointed. He felt his blood ice. She would die because of him. He wished he had made her listen, made her leave him alone. How could he think he would ever be safe from the Lord Holder's son?

“Just give me an excuse and I will give the order,” Serance hissed. “Now tell your fire lizard to leave us alone, and follow me.” Gripping Sam’s bicep, Serance brandished his own knife, holding it to Sam’s throat.

Sam mentally instructed Deanie to hide up in the rafters and not to follow, not matter what. He feared if he asked Deanie to bring someone to the barracks Alderash would do what Serance promised. He might well anyhow, but he couldn't risk it. He wouldn't risk Selina's life on a maybe.

Doing as the man ordered, Sam quietly rose from his bed. The sharp edge of the knife cut just a fraction into his throat but he forced himself to remain silent. He padded barefoot across the cold stone. He wondered if they would even find his body after Serance was done with him. They might well assume Sam decided against trying to Impress and simply left. He couldn't imagine the dragonrider that made the deal with him would really believe that, but if they couldn't find his body, what other explanation was there?

The man guided Sam a few corridors over, into an area that surely had once been inhabited by weryfolk, but the plague had killed so very many and these rooms were now empty of occupants. The room Serance brought him to already had a glow lighting it. It was obvious Serance had prepared the place just for him.

"Stop." Serance ran his hand down Sam's face, neck and chest.

Sam stopped his shuffle forward but couldn't stop himself from flinching at the man's disgusting touch.

"You thought to surround yourself with children? Where are those children now? Get down on that pallet," he jerked his head toward the thin mattress on the floor. "And if you have any ideas about getting help, I have others watching the halls... if you leave this room they will say the word and your little protectress shall be dead. Now get down."

Sam's eyes went to the mattress. What choice did he have? He went down to his hands and knees and then stretched out on the too short mattress, folding his arms and resting his head on his hands. It would be over soon, he told himself. It would be over and then he could leave, demand the dragonrider fly him north and leave him somewhere, anywhere. Just so long as Serance wasn't there and there was no one Serance could hurt if Sam were found.

Serance followed him to the ground, roughly pulled one of his arms and then pulled Sam's wrist through an already looped rope. In practiced motions, he tied it to a stake he'd driven into the wall. This way, one of the youth's arms would be secured, but he had enough range of motion that Serance could do as he pleased and move him at will. "What made you think you could escape me? Did you think I would not follow you even here?" It wasn't true, but he wanted to drudge to know he would never be free of him.

Sam felt his anger well up inside him. Had he badgered the dragonmen into bringing him here? Just to get to Sam? That seemed unlikely. They really thought a cruel bastard like this was worthy of a dragon? If they did, he didn't want any part of it. He would never want to call himself a dragonrider if something like this dung could impress.

"At least I cost you your Hold," Sam snarled at him. "Free of you, they'll never let your fecking stench back inside. You were never worthy to be a holder. You lust after a male kitchen drudge. How pathetic is that?"

Serance grabbed his shoulder and flipped him onto his still healing back. Pulling his fist back, Serance smashed it into Sam's face, a smile spreading across his face when he heard Sam's head make contact with the stone floor beyond the pallet. "Know your place, drudge. I may lust after you, but after I use you, I will wipe my boots on you and walk away."

Sam's head practically rang with the solid blow both from in front and behind. Serance didn't break his nose, but he still felt warm liquid spill out.

The trickle of blood from Sam's nose reached his lip. Reaching out, Serance used his thumb to spread the redness across Sam's lips. "You have tortured me for the last time. It's time to pay." Straddling him, Serance grabbed Sam's white tunic and used the knife to slice it down the center. The knife was sharp enough to cut through Sam's tunic almost as if it were a spinner's web.

Licking his lips, he dragged the knife back up Sam's chest, drawing along the lines of his muscles, and bringing the point to the base of his throat. "Open your mouth. If you bite, I will kill you."

Sam was surprised a line of blood hadn't been left in the cold blade's wake. He felt its point against his throat. He didn't want to die; that realization stole away some of his anger. If he wasn't ready to die, that left him one choice. He did as he was bid.

Serance shoved his finger inside Sam's mouth, eyes rolling back as he pressed down on the drudge's tongue. Sam had to fight not to let his gag reflex get the better of him. Pulling his finger to the side, Serance lowered his mouth and stuffed his tongue inside, crushing Sam's lips against his teeth.

Sam couldn't help the sound of pain that escape his throat as his teeth cut into his own lips.

What he wanted, right here, for him to take... and no one to stop him. Serance savaged Sam's mouth, biting his lips, moaning as Sam tried to move his face away. "Mine... fecking bastard, mine."

The kiss was sheer brutality and Serance drew blood as he bit his tender lips repeatedly. Try as he might, his struggle only seemed to make the man more excited and pleased.

Suddenly straddling his hips, Serance leaned forward and ground his cock over Sam's hard abs, the thin material of his their loose pants hardly offering any separation. "For making me crazy, for making it hard for me to think, for bewitching me," he chanted, as he fucked against Sam, eyes growing wilder. "Move... do something..." the knife hovered over Sam's eye.

That the lord holder would blind him if he didn't respond, he had no doubt. He could beg and he knew that would please Serance but he knew that wouldn't be enough. Not this time. And the thought of begging this bastard made him want to throw up. The other option wasn't much more desirable. He began to roll his hips and offer some pressure to the man's need, thrusting back against him. He eyed the knife warily and eased his head away from the threat as best as he could manage.

"That's it, yes," he all but growled, grinding harder over Sam. He fucked up against him, harder, faster, he head falling back.

Sam tried thrusting against him to match his pace, to increase his pace, to get the bastard to come already and for it to be over.

This should be enough, it should, but in his mind, he was fucking Sam in the ass. He recalled how round and hard his ass had been when he'd pressed against it that time he administered punishment. Now all he could think about was getting between Sam's ass cheeks, fucking him, teaching him who his master was.

Lifting up, he snarled, "roll over." And when Sam didn't move fast enough, he pushed him in the direction he could roll with his hand still tied.

It all caught Sam off guard. The man suddenly lifting off of him, demanding he...what? His bound arm twisted painfully as Serance pushed him. He struggled a moment to do what Serance told him, still trying to put sense to the demand. But Serance did that for him as he yanked Sam's hair.

"Tell me you want me inside you, call me master... fecking say it," he shouted, holding a fistful of Sam's hair and twisting it.

By the first egg, no! He didn't want that bastard's cock buried in him. He used his bound hand for leverage, grabbing hold of the rope and trying to pull away from Serance, but the man's grip on his hair only pulled his head back further and he almost whimpered. He used his free hand to try to untangle his locks from Serance's grip but he couldn't. He also couldn't bring himself to say what the bastard demanded.

Serance drove his knee into Sam's back, and Sam felt some of his healing lashes break open and a gasp of pain escaped him.

"Do you still rebel? Wait until I am inside you, you will know who I am." Still grasping Sam's hair, he knelt between his legs, aligned his already leaking cock with one hand and worked his tip inside. Sam struggled to get away but in one fierce thrust, he impaled Sam, his head rolling back as he grunted with pleasure. "So fecking tight boy, so fecking tight."

Sam screamed as he felt Serance fill him, as he felt his tender skin rip and burn. The shock and pain made him groan in agony. He struggled to get away, to pull himself free of Serance's thick cock buried deeply inside him but had no real leverage to do so. He couldn't stop his sob.

Sam's shout, his struggles kicked up Serance's lust a notch. Finally, finally the drudge recognized his authority, acknowledged his power over him. Growing impossibly thicker inside Sam, he pulled half way out and rammed himself inside again, crying out his pleasure. His cry of pleasure was matched with an equal cry of pain by the young man he fucked and tears streamed down Sam's cheeks.

Letting the knife drop, he forced Sam's face to the side, kissing the side of his mouth as he started to rut against him. Heat, like waves of molten lava, rolled though him. This was what he'd wanted, needed for so fecking long. His hips snapped forward, over and over, grunts breaking out of him both due to exertion and pleasure. Every thrust extracted a whimper, a groan of pain against Serance's lips. Serance wrapped his arm around Sam's waist, lifting his ass into the air, the other hand planted painfully in Sam's injured back, keep his face ground into the floor. Sam couldn't move, the hard repeated thrusts inside him sending coiling pain into his gut.

Serance moved his other hand, wrapping his fist around Sam's cock and pumping, and squeezing him painfully tight. "Fithy. Disgusting. Unnatural," he practically crooned between hoarse grunts.

Even with the pain, his body couldn't help but respond to the grip around his cock, to the hand stroking and squeezing him and bringing him hard. His body began to respond in ways that disgusted him, beginning to fuck into that stimulating hand and each pull back from that hand pushed him onto Serance's cock, accompanied with a new spike of pain. The burning was easing, his insides becoming used to the thickened flesh pumping in and out of him. His groans now mixed with his voiced sexual needs. Sam pumped harder, sobbing, unable to control what his body wanted, giving Serance everything he wanted as he pushed into Serance's hand and pushed back onto his cock with an ever increasing pace. He let out a cry as he felt his balls draw up. He shoved hard into Serance's hand as he stiffened and came, spurting spunk in thick ropes. As he stiffened, as he came, he felt Serance bury himself painfully deep and felt the man's hot seed fill him as the man quivered and pulled out a bit, only to shove in deeper. He felt the horrid man's come dribble from his ass.

He shook and moaned with the aftershocks of coming as Serance milked him dry, each continued stroke painful to his over sensitized cock, but causing him to clench against the dick still slowly pumpng in and out of him.

Serance shuddered, licking the side of Sam's face. "You won't even be able to claim rape. You wanted this," he said, lifting up, then wiping his wet hand over Sam's mouth. "And here's your evidence."

Pushing up from the ground, he started to reclothe himself. "And stop crying. We'll do this again, you can bet on that. I cannot wait." Right before he left the room, he cut the bindings holding Sam's wrist. Then without a backwards glance, he left the room.

(joint post)

When Serance wiped Sam's own come across his face, Sam thought he was going to throw up. He hadn't wanted it, and he tried to convince himself any man would come to a hand job like that, but if he had trouble believing it himself how could anyone else? As the Holder's son made his promise that this wouldn't be the only time, Sam closed his eyes. He would never let that man touch him again. As the binding was cut from his wrist, he hardly felt the cut to his arm as well.

As soon as Serance was gone Sam curled in on himself and simply laid there for a time, staring into shadows. He did not really care if he became a dragonrider. He had never had such hopes to begin with, orphaned and taken in, and always the outcast, always just a little odd, just a little...off. He looked down at the tattoo on his chest. It was strange. He remembered getting really drunk on wine one night at a party when he was younger and the drudges had happily finished off any left over wine. He woke up with the strange symbol on his chest the next morning but he had no recollection of actually getting it put there. Even so, it gave him a strange sort of comfort and he told himself it was a protection emblem, but if it was, it was certainly doing a poor fecking job of protecting him. And why did he insist on putting salt across the doorway to his quarters? He had no idea. He remembered the trouble he had gotten into stealing salt and using it for that. Soon after that he came up with the idea of pouring salt into the reeds, so no one would know.

He was a freak. Maybe he had been giving signals to Serance that he wanted this, that he deserved this...

He finally pushed himself up, his breath hissing between his teeth. He wiped the last of his tears away. He pulled on the wool garment Serance had ruined and wrapped it around himself and finally called Deanie to him. The fire lizard was immensely upset, chattering worriedly and finally landing on his shoulder and burying its head in Sam's hair.

"It's okay, Deanie, it's okay," he tried to reassure, but he felt anything but okay and Deanie knew it. "C'mon, I need your help. Think you can check the halls for me so I can get to the bathing pools unnoticed?"

Pulling its head out from beneath Sam's tangled mop, it chirped at him, took to the air, and popped between.

Gingerly, he made his way to the bathing pool, Deanie helping him get there unseen. Once in the warm waters he washed his own come from his flesh and carefully cleaned around his tender and bloodied hole. He had no idea how he was going to walk normally come the morning but his jar of numbweed might make it easier. The wrist Serance had bound was deeply bruised but at least the cut wasn't deep. He would ask the weyrlingmaster in the morning for an audience with K'tol as soon as possible. He would simply tell the man he changed his mind, that he didn't want to be a dragonrider and beg him to take him north and leave him some place, any place. He had spent his entire life alone among people. There would be little difference if people weren't there. He had Deanie at least, so he would never be quite so lonely ever again.

Morning came too quickly and he was so stiff and sore it took everything in him to bite back his groan as he sat up. He saw he had spotted a bit of blood from his damaged rectum and quickly pulled the cover over it. He saw Selina's too sharp eyes notice his bandaged wrist and scan over his back where a few of the healing lashes had been reopened by Serance's harsh treatment. He hoped she would ignore it as he quickly pulled a fresh robe on. He could do nothing to hide his bitten and bruised lips.

Oh no. Her heart sank low in her stomach. His expressive eyes were begging her not to say anything, not to ask, and yet how could she not? When they were almost alone, she moved close to him, but didn't look directly at him. "The werylingmaster is not a bad man. He would not stand for this." She didn't know exactly what had happened, but the signs of his ravaged body were enough to tell her it was wrong. "I'll go with you."

After secreting the jar of numbweed in his bag with his stylus and wax plate he would need for the harper's class after breakfast, he didn't look at her as he walked toward the door.

"You would be dead by nightfall," Sam said softly. "If not you, one of the others that had dared befriend his slut. Just stay away from me," Sam said. "And don't think of telling the werylingmaster anything. I'll deny it was against my will and deny who it was. I will not be the cause of anyone's death and too many, if they do not call him friend, at least, call him master. Just leave me alone. Tell the others to do so as well. If all goes as I intend, I will be elsewhere before the last rays of the sun fade from the sky. Know that your kindness, however brief, was unexpected and appreciated."

"And if the situation were reversed. Would you walk away?" she asked just as softly, following right behind him and knowing in her heart if he told her the truth, the answer would be the same as hers.

Sam stopped and turned, looking down into her caring eyes. "Do you have Ruathan blood in you, girl? You're as stubborn as they are rimored to be," he said trying to dredge up a smile for her. "If it were you, I would find the best duelist and have them protect your honor." He gave a sigh. "I will ask the werylingmaster for an audience with K'tol today, all right?" he told her. She didn't need to know that had already been his plan. "Now best you pretend you have not befriended me. I don't want you hurt. The others as well. I've spent all my years friendless. Another day or two shouldn't matter."

She hugged him suddenly, and kissed his cheek. "Just until you speak with the werylingmaster," she agreed. "But I won't wait forever." This boy had a gentle spirit, and it shone from him. There was something about him, something different, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "Werylingmaster, go," she smiled, giving him a slight push.

He stood frozen when she hugged him and kissed him except for the slight flush of red that colored his cheeks.

"All right," he finally managed, "I'm going."

Finding the weyrlingmaster at breakfast wasn't difficult. He slipped away briefly to get some numbweed on his tender posterior and the badly bruised wrist that at this point hurt to move. When he approached the master, at least he was moving with a little less pain. He approached the man and waited until the older man acknowledged his presence.

"Weyrlingmaster, I very much need to speak with Weyrleader K'tol at his earliest convenience. I need to speak with him briefly about an important personal matter. It is urgent to me and if he could see me today, I would be very grateful."

"And what makes you think the weyrleader has time for a candidate?" D'rak asked, seeing the candidate robes before he ever looked up. His watery gaze took in everything and he frowned at the injuries the candidate had suffered on his watch. Leaving his breakfast, he got up, "follow me," he said with the weight of authority in his voice.

Sam swore under his breath. Why couldn't someone just do as he asked? Well, that would change soon, he consoled himself. He would have no one to answer to but himself. Dutifully he followed D'rak, grateful his legs were long enough that he could walk a little slower without losing pace.

Walking out of the dining hall, D'rak lead the way to his office, pushed the door open and pointed at the chair with his chin. "Sit." Once Sam moved inside, he closed the door and took his seat on the other side of the desk. "I am responsible for you, not K'tol. How did you come by your injuries?" He had not heard of any fights among the candidates.

Looking at the hard chair, Sam steeled himself and sat down, trying to hide the discomfort. "With deepest respect Weyrlingmaster, I would rather speak to none of this other than with the weryleader." He couldn't meet the man's eyes. He suddenly felt so dirty and ashamed. He just wanted as far away from Serance as a dragon could possibly carry him. Surely Serance or one of his cronies saw him speaking with D'rak and if he wasn't gone by nightfall, he feared the retribution he or one of his new friends would suffer at their hands. "Please Master D'rak," he begged, finally daring to meet his eyes, "is there any way the weyrleader might speak with me today?"

"He is a busy man. I will have to justify the drain on his time, and I cannot do that if you don't tell me what this is about." He stared at the boy for a long moment, then reached inside his drawer. Bringing out a wineskin, he poured a little into a cup for the candidate, and pushed it to him. "Drink, then gather your thoughts."

Sam accepted the cup and stared into the dark red liquid for a moment before taking a sip. He was certainly no judge of wine but the wines served when Lord Serance held a gathering (and the drudges usually managed to skim some of the leftovers) were of better quality. There should be no surprise such fine wines would not find their way to the weyr. He finished off the wine hoping that somehow it might bolster his courage.

"I was leaving the hold when the dragons chased me down during the search," he began slowly. "I was leaving the hold for good. When the one of the dragonriders offered me a chance to come here, I thought it would get me away from...a situation that had recently worsened. I would rather be holdless than stay any longer in the hold for I knew the situation would only grow more terrible as the days passed. I agreed to come to try to impress and if I did not, then he agreed he would fly my away from here, where I might be safe from...the situation. I did not anticipate that...that which I was running from would have also ended up here. I can not...I will not stay." Sam was shocked to find tears running down his cheeks. When had they started to fall? "I would beg of the weryleader to honor my request even though I am unable to honor my promise. I would like to stay," he said softly, "but the cost is not worth even the privilege of a chance to become a dragonrider."

Looking in his drawer, D'rak pulled out a kerchief and passed it to Sam. His expression didn't give away how troubled he was at what Sam was implying. Ordinarily, he did not make up his mind until he spoke to everyone involved but there was no doubt in his mind that this youth was being truthful. "You will go to the healer. She will keep your secret, as will I," he said, his gaze locking with Sam's, letting him know he understood the implications of his words. "You were chosen because... because a certain power appears to run in your blood. In this time of few hatchings, we cannot afford to let any good candidates slip through our fingers, I am sorry." There was a finality to his tone. "However, give me the name of this other candidate, and I will make certain he is not only punished, but he does not get near you again." D'rak's dragon bugled, echoing his outrage.

Sam reluctantly accepted the kerchief. He was acting like a child. But then Serance's words, his promise, came back to him. Fine he would see the healer. Then tonight he would steal away and disappear. Injured as he was he would not be able to make the distance he would have otherwise, but he would get far enough. And just keep going. He had never had a choice, never, and he thought this place might be different, but he was as much a prisoner here as he had been at the hold.

He wiped away his tears and set the kerchief on the desk as he rose to his feet. "Thank you for listening to my situation, sir. If I give you a name, others will be hurt, maybe even killed. It was not the knife at my throat that forced me to go with him last night. At this point, my life has little meaning to me and I would probably welcome the blade if not for Deanie. As I have never had a choice in the course of my life, it was foolish of me to think here would be any different," he said bitterly. He gave a slight bow. "With your leave, I will go see the healer now."

It crossed D'rak's mind to refuse to allow the boy to leave without giving him the name, but there was more than one way to get to the bottom of anything. "You may go." When the candidate reached the door, he spoke again. "What are the names of the candidates who share your bunk, and the bunks to the right and left of yours?"

Sam paused, lightly resting his hand on the doorframe. If he wasn't able to get away, then he did not want Selina or any of the others suffering for his error in judgment in approaching D'rak. He should have just left. He shut his eyes briefly. He did not want them being forced to tell and Selina at least knew who it was. And the spitfire that she was would certainly and gladly tell.

"It was Lord Serance, sir. Too many here are from the hold. They will obey whatever he commands. If he is punished, he will simply order others of the hold to extract the pound of flesh from those in my barracks."

D'rak stood up. "He is no longer at the Hold, and make no mistake, he holds no rank here. He will be punished, and any would-be cohorts will be warned. Justice is swift in the weyrs." He walked up to Sam and patted him on the back. "What he has done... what I believe he has done, carries a strong punishment. We may be looser than the holds in what practices are acceptable, but the sole time that involuntary participation is acceptable is as a result of a mating flight. I am sorry this happened on my watch. I wish you had come to me before, you did say you were running from this man." He shook his head. "What is done, is done."

Sam inhaled sharply when the man patted him on the back. The lashing still hurt. "I was foolish enough to believe that he would make no advances on me with others around me. He will tell you it was not rape because even as he...took me, my own body responded in kind to his attention." Turning, he faced the man. He was tired of seeing sympathy. He preferred the dislike, or eyes that said clearly he was odd. "Please, Werylingmaster, do not punish him. I am a drudge, nothing more. I promise you, no matter what you do to him, or what you threaten, it will end in death. He is bold enough to poison his own father. Do you think he will have any regrets finding a way to end someone's life who has shown me kindness? And he will do so without proof being found that he was the source. I have lived all my life under his gaze. A few more days will not matter. The hatching is soon to occur, is it not? Then this will all be resolved one way or another."

"Your request is noted, and denied. On your way now." This candidate was under his care, as were others. None should be afraid for their lives. None.

Why wouldn't they listen to him? Did D'rak think Serance would acknowledge he didn't have power here, didn't hold sway here? The punishment would only make things so much worse.

As he made his way slowly to the healer, for that was one place he knew he should go before he slipped away this evening, he called Deanie to him. "You must watch over Selina, protect her little one. If she were to be injured because of me," he shook his head, "I could not bear an innocent hurt because of my weakness. Watch over the others as you can. Perhaps spy on Serance and determine his plan of revenge." He couldn't help the small smile. "What I wouldn't give to see that bastard be treated as he deserved, to see his punishment. Castration would be too kind." He stroked the fire lizard as it settled on his shoulder. "You are my best friend, Deanie. I will call to you tonight, to help me escape, then you will return to watch over Selina and the others at least for a few days. After I am gone, Serance will hopefully see there is no point in hurting them, for I will never know, and I will be the one he blames."

(joint post)

By the time he had visited with the healer and endured what in his mind was nearly as shameful an evaluation of his health as Serance's abuse of him had been, he arrived late to his lesson. He sat down at the closest bench he came to, away from the others though it was still within his barrack's group. It was apparent from the eyes on him that his stiff movements and abused body had everyone casting sympathy toward him and he hated it. The harper seemed oblivious to his late arrival, though he knew that was not the case. Casting his gaze about, he saw that Serance was not in the room and his heart sank. Still, at least he would have a few hours without the lustful gaze on him. Deanie settled on the table in front of him, watching him curiously as he drew the stylus through the wax. Whenever a ballad regarding the bravery of dragons and their riders was taught, Deanie seemed to puff out its little chest and softly chortle its pride.

By the time the lessons were finally completed, a light lunch was served to the candidates and then the news that they would visit the hatching sands to see the eggs. His heart jumped a little at the thought. At least he could see the eggs before he left, see what it was that might have been.

Heading to the warming sands, he was not surprised when Selina and Zarlin bracketed him on either side.

"You both would be wise to treat me as if I were stricken with the illness," Sam cautioned them. "When did they take Lord Serance away?"

"He's no Lord now," she answered, a rebellious glint in her eyes. "As for your answer, 'not soon enough.'"

Zarlin nodded in agreement, but said nothing, averting his eyes from Sam's.

"They should rid the weyr of him. If he were to impress brown or worse yet, bronze..." Selina's brow furrowed at the thought. The ranking riders were often arrogant, and sometimes did have a bit of a cruel streak, or so she'd heard.

"Hopefully he will not impress," Sam said, thinking the hell Serance could make his life if he did become a dragonrider. There would be no escaping him. "Zarlin, I won't be offended if you chose not to stand by my side. Serance is a vicious man. Nor should you feel guilty for not hearing him come in last night. No one did. Even my fire lizard did not awaken until it was too late."

"We are all going to impress, the three of us," Zarlin said with a note of hope in his voice. "And if Serance does not impress, he will be allowed to leave." He, on the other hand, had been at different weyrs for all of five turns already, having really nowhere else to go since he was the youngest of the sons of his father Lord Barthow, and having failed to impress. Tanith, like most queens since the illness, had failed to lay strong clutches, and too many of the young dragons were sickly and died right there on the sands. He hoped this time would be different.

They climbed the steep stairs cut into stone, emerging from inside the weyr, and finding themselves on the sands in the caldera of the extinct volcano. There were five eggs. Six, if you counted the dark one that lay discarded by Tanith at one corner, against a boulder. No black egg had ever been seen. Some worried it might contain a diseased dragon while others believed it, like many eggs in recent times, would never even hatch. Though Tanith had separated it from the others, she allowed no one to remove it from the sands.

Sam could hardly believe it. Only six eggs. Probably only five. Of the twenty-four candidates only five would become dragonriders and only five new dragons would fill the sky. From the rumors that he had heard, a queen's egg had not been laid since the illness. The current queens were growing older and it seemed less and less likely, though he knew from history there was a time there was only a single queen year after year, and a single queen egg lain when the prior queen was near death. But at the time of approaching Threads, the eggs should grow more numerous. Threads would be falling within a year or two, and there simply weren't enough dragons to protect the land. He knew also from his history that dragons could go back in time and rumors said it had been tried, but of those who came forward, most succumbed quickly to the illness and died.

The twenty three candidates circled the eggs, a few daring to touch and stroke the shells that were still a bit soft. The sands were growing hotter though and likely by tomorrow or the next day, the eggs would have hardened and be ready to hatch. Sam saw the excitement on most all of the faces of the candidates. A few merely looked frightened and would not approach the eggs. The queen lay nearby, watching the candidates with little interest.

He would be no dragonrider. The chances were slim if he were even to stay. As soon as night fell, he would slip away. He looked over at the discarded egg and walked slowly toward it. Even with the healer's herbs, he still hurt. The black egg, so different from the others, cast aside, no one to stroke its shell and call to the dragonet inside. The pain in his chest was one of sympathy and sadness. It was like him. Useless, ignored, unloved, worthless. In a few days it would lay in the sands long after the other eggs had hatched, until someone bothered to take it to the midden where it would eventually be buried under trash, an oddity like himself, soon forgotten. He could hope he would be as quickly forgotten.

He stroked the shell. Like the others it was hardening in the heated sands, but it was still a bit soft here and there. The egg shifted slightly under his touch and Sam jerked his hand back guiltily. His touch must have disturbed its place in the sand. Suddenly he found it hard to breathe and his first thought was that Serance had somehow poisoned him. He felt a soft thrum in his chest and looked up to realize its source was the queen dragon, watching him intently. The black egg rocked suddenly and fell on its side. Deanie began flying around him, chirping and crying as if he were in distress. He dove repeatedly at the egg. Sam tried to call to him, to calm him down, but it was growing harder and harder for him to draw breath. His gaze suddenly shifted to the queen, to Deanie, and then to the egg that had all but ceased rocking.

He began tearing at the shell with his fingernails and when that seemed ineffective waved Deanie down to claw at the egg. He just needed a start, something to get his fingers under. Deanie landed on the egg and bit hard at it until he got that first gouge into the egg. Sam began working frantically at that small rip.

Some of the candidates shouted, horrified that Sam was doing more than touching an egg, even one that would either be empty or might as well be. Others had seen it shift and feared what would come out. They weren't ready.... there were rituals to be performed. And then there were some who kept well away wanting nothing to do with the sickly thing.

Weyrlingmaster D'rak ran to the edge of the sands, shouting. "Have you lost your fecking head, boy... what are you doing. Leave off, leave off I say... Samuel!"

Sam ignored the shouts as he dug deeper with his fingers. He could just feel the softness of the membrane under his fingers. He pulled hard at the shell, trying to get more of it opened. When he had what he hoped was enough of a hole made, he grabbed hold of the membrane and yanked, shouting in triumph when he felt the membrane finally give. He quickly rolled the egg so the fluid could drain out. He wasn't surprised when he suddenly found he could breathe easier, but still the egg was motionless though the queen continued to hum at him.

He shook off the hands trying to pull him away from the egg and struggled to get the shell broken open. Finally the shell peeled back, revealing a barely struggling dragonet. A black dragonet. Sam pulled at the membrane to get the fragile creature out, Deanie helping as he could, nipping at pieces to help sever them for Sam. Sam lifted the creature's large, wedge shaped head with effort. The dragon was easily the size of a large bronze.

There was a huge united gasp as people caught sight of the black. Gold, bronze, brown, blue, green... those were the colors of dragons, those were the ranks, from highest to lowest. What was this? D'rak and some of the other dragonriders immediately understood the large questions that this would raise if it survived.

"Get on the sands, lads... move closer." D'rak shoved some of the scared youths closer. "Go in... it's your duty." Many of them did, though most hoped the thing would not choose them. They were hoping for bronze after all.

Sam stroked the dragon's sticky face, begging with everything in him that the dragon survive. "Come on, don't you die on me! Fight!"

The dull eyes began to glitter with life and it slowly raised its head on its own as it flapped its wings awkwardly. Adoring eyes focused on Sam and he heard the dragon in his mind.

"Hello Merith," Sam said, stroking its eye ridges. He laughed. "Of course you're hungry. Dragons and fire lizards are always hungry."

Sam looked up guiltily at the weyrlingmaster. "I'm sorry, it was dying, drowning, I had to help it. It wouldn't have made it to the hatching."

D'rak held his gaze, and nodded. "The needs of the dragons come first." He did not know how Samuel had known the dragon was in trouble, but there had been times when a bond was formed even before the dragon broke out of its shell. "Come S'muel, I will show you your new weyr, and you will need to feed Merith."

Sam shook his head. "No, it's still Samuel. Merith is a queen," he said softly.

There were trumpets of approval from the other dragons, and much chatter about the unusual coloring of the dragonet, however the dragons didn't care much, it was their humans who had much to say about that.

"Queen?" D'rak cocked his head. Immediately, he communicated with his dragon. <Rezmuth, the boy claims the black dragon is a female. Is that... Surely that sickly thing is not a...>

<<She's a gold.>>

<But she's black... she can't be... There's no such thing as a black gold!>

<<There's no such thing as a white dragon either.>> Resmuth's smirk could be heard in the mental thought. When the white dragon, Ruth, had been hatched, it had caused quite a stirring among the harpers and historians as well.

<Tell all of the dragons to announce the birth of a gold to their riders.> D'rak went to assist Sam with his new dragonet.

The instant the announcement went out, dragonriders started to flood the area, coming to take a look at the new queen. There were gasps of surprise as people saw that the black egg had hatched, and the so called queen was a black dragon. They needed a gold so badly, but to be saddled with something that might die, that was likely sickly, it was a sad day for many. There was also much laughter. A boy had impressed a queen! That was unheard of. There were many mutterings about 'she-boy' and too many other speculations.

Sam looked over at Selina and Zarlin and shrugged a little helplessly. He certainly had not meant to Impress. He was going to leave tonight but now...he certainly couldn't now. At least now that he had a dragon, it was unlikely Serance would be able to touch him again. He prayed Zarlin impressed and Selina, well, there might not be a queen but women had impressed green dragons in the past. If they impressed he wouldn't have to worry about them. If they didn't he would have Deanie keep an eye on them. He was certain Deanie could tell him if Serance when after them, and he could tell Merith who could tell the dragons and the dragons could tell the other riders. Maybe not the most efficient, but so long as it kept his friends safe.


D'rak led him down to the lake so Sam could wash Merith free of the amniotic fluid, scrubbing the dragon clean with the sand. By the time he was done, raw meat had been brought down and Deanie had already snatched one of the smallest strips he could find for himself.

"You have no manners," Sam scolded his fire lizard. "That's Merith's first meal."

The black dragonet didn't seem to mind though and a little steadier on her legs, walked over to the meat and quickly began devouring the offered meal. Sam was glad when the cramping hunger he felt in his own belly began to ease. Once Merith had eaten, D'rak returned and led them to their weyr.

They weyr was quite large and airy, with a nice ledge for the dragonet. Once she grew to adulthood, a bigger weyr would be assigned, but for now, Sam and his dragon would be in the caves designated for the weyrlings. The weyr consisted of one large room, a curtained off area for the bedroom, and a privy. "You can speak to the headwoman about selecting some furnishings. It should be quite comfortable."

Sam stared in awe at the huge room. He had never had much more than a room eight paces long.

"Show her where she is to sleep. And never leave her alone, she'll wake up confused... you'll need to reassure her." Before he left D'rak went over some other rules for taking care of the dragonet.

"Something like this has never happened," Sam said. "A black dragon, or a queen choosing a man."

D'rak waved his hand in dismissal. "The harpers will research this. It is upon you to ensure the new queen is tended not whether or not this has occurred in the past." His task done, he left Sam and the young dragonet.

Sam guided Merith to her spot which was currently bathed in sunlight. She settled down happily. Sam stroked her scales and realized that the underside of the scales were golden.

<Why by the first egg did you choose me, Merith? A queen is suppose to choose a girl to Impress,> Sam asked her.

<<You are different. I am different. You were in pain. I was in pain. You needed me. I needed you.>> It was obvious it seemed perfectly clear to her and should be to him as well.

<But I don't think a queen has ever chosen a male before. Even men who prefer the company of other men.>

Merith nudged him to scratch her eye ridges. <<They itch still.>>

<Merith?> Sam asked again as he obediently scratched her itching skin.

<<Yes, right there. Yes.>> She hummed, pleased. <<You think nothing of the other females, the greens, choosing males. I liked you. I could feel you. I could hear you. None of the others cared. They were frightened. Had they been closer, I would have taught them fear.>> She rumbled almost threateningly. <<Those who fear us as we come into the world, those who send us nothing but fear, they must be removed as unworthy.>>

<That's why dragonets kill candidates sometimes?> Sam asked, shocked.

<<The others won't speak of such things but their chosen know this.>> She pulled her head back on her sinuous neck and studied Sam, her faceted eyes glowing. <<You are so very different. Deeply forgotten, lost memories. Lost loves. Lost everything. But now you have me. I will never leave you. We will fight the Threads, we will protect. Saving people. Hunting...Threads.>>

Deanie popped from between and chirrupped at Sam, half scolding. Merith chortled at the fire lizard.

<I didn't think most dragons were particularly fond of fire lizards,> Sam said calling Deanie to his shoulder. Deanie settled and chirped at Merith.

<<Annoyances, most consider them. I like Deanie.>>

<They think you might be sick, that you might die, don't they?>

Merith rolled over, exposing her full belly to the sun, shifting to adjust her wings. <<They fear needlessly. And Rezmuth's Impressed, he is wrong. I will be fine alone and I will not wake up confused. I will, however, wake up hungry and ready for another scrubbing. And Deanie needs a good scrubbing and oil. Go. Get the things that will make you comfortable. You are hungry. Eat.>> She chortled again. <<And by the first dragon, get the salt you seem so obsessed with.>>

Sam was a bit startled by Merith's comment about the salt, but realized he would have to get used to her knowing his every thought. Because of the love and comfort he felt coming from her, that didn't really bother him. After a moment of hesitation, he hurried to find headwoman Danai. He was still learning his way around the weyr and ended up passing a room that made him pause. After a second look, his eyes widened in surprise. It was Serance, naked, on his knees. His back and buttocks were criss-crossed with a severe lashing and he stared at the wall, his arms stretched up and out, ropes leading to metal eyelets deeply buried in the stone. A man sat in the room at a table, reading over parchment. He looked up when he saw Sam standing there.

"Be on your way. This one has a day and night to stare at the wall and ponder his grievous crime." The man looked over at Serance. "A repeat of such a crime will not be treated so kindly."

Sam couldn't help but smile a little. Serance deserved a lot more, but at least he had received something for his violation of Sam. For the first time, someone had stepped in on Sam's behalf.

Sam had already tended to Merith's daily scrubbing when the other dragonets arrived with their future riders. He had gone to the hatching, Merith wanting to watch, and he had wanted to root for for Selina and Zarlin. Three bronze, a brown and a blue were the colors of the new hatchlings. Z'rlin became the rider of the brown Gillei. Two others of Sam's barracks impressed as well, F'sarn and T'lan, a bronze, Meteron, and blue, Silvesh, respectively. Two of the other barracks both impressed bronze, A'drerash impressed Tarnak and...S'rance impressed Curant, the largest of the dragonets save for Merith. Sam took what solace he could that as a rider of a queen he had rank over the Lord Holder's son, but knew too that when Merith rose to mate, S'rance's bronze would be among the leading contenders...