The world had been a much darker place these last few months for Dean. His brother missing. A part of himself fucking missing with Sam. There had been no sign of Sam, none. Dean had grilled Bobby about the last things Sam might have touched or played with at the storeroom, together and separately, they researched the hell out of the artifacts his dad stored. Nothing, they had not a clue.


Dean had driven across the states and back several times over. Consulted everyone from psychics, to tarot readers, to faith leaders, and had been this close to summoning a crossroads demon in desperation when Bobby caught him and knocked him out. He always returned, to the warehouse, to the scroll... trying to make sense of it, trying so hard.


Then he'd received a phone call from Bela. She asked to meet him and claimed to have information to sell. She'd demanded the head of a Merkhaddi demon in exchange. That had taken him three weeks. Three weeks to hunt it down, another to recover from his wounds. It wasn't precious for no reason, as Bela pointed out when she saw his state. She also told him he looked like shit, which he couldn't argue with. He'd lost weight, his face was drawn, his eye sunken in. He'd seen a flash of sympathy in the cold woman's eyes, which was impossible. The trade had gone smoothly, and he hadn't put any hope in what she'd given him anyway. There were only so many fucking dead ends you could bang into before enthusiasm became elusive.


Bela had given him a book. At first he'd been about to throw it against the wall seeing as it was written in that Goddamned language that no one recognized. But then he'd looked through it again and again, and the words on the page changed. English... he could read it. Now he understood Bela's comment about persistence paying off.


The things he read were fantastic... unbelievable. Another world? A parallel world which had its own cycles of armageddon? Destructive threads would fall from the skies, there were too few warriors to stop them, depleted ranks of fighting machines called 'dragons'. Some of the things he read made no sense, but what did make sense was that scrolls similar to the one in his father's storage room had appeared in many places. Those who fell asleep reading or rather looking at them had a high chance of disappearing, of being 'drafted' into their warrior class... or something. Not all of it was clear to Dean. What was clear was that Sam was in another world or dimension, and most likely had been mind wiped in the process. Now... it was up to him and Bobby to find a way for him to go after Sam, without the memory loss, and to bring him the hell back.


* * *

Impatient at heart, Dean had nearly imploded over the next month as he tried to find a way to follow Sam without losing his memories, and with a way to return. He and Bobby had tracked down anyone who might know something, any piece of the puzzle, experts in different fields, and in the end, a month later, they still didn't have satisfying answers. They knew for sure that if Dean fell asleep looking at the scroll, and he 'qualified' as a draft potential, then he would be pulled through to this other dimension. They'd also figured out that items would go through with him, so he'd written a letter to himself explaining the situation, as well as a recording on an mp3 player. They had no idea if electronics would be wiped out during a wild trip like this. Then there had been the various shamans, accupuncturists and psychics that had been visited, to supposedly create a protective 'shell' around the parts of Dean's brain that dealt with memory. Did he believe they'd succeeded? He had no fucking clue. The thing of it was, he had no choice. Just like he told Bobby, there was no way he was leaving Sam in some strange world, not alone. If they could get back, great. If not, they'd at least be together. <I>If I remember him when I get there.</i>


The plan for getting back was real thin. Someone or some people on the other side had created the travel-scrolls, so if he found those people, he should be able to find out how they sent the scrolls here, and make them do the same for Sam and himself. At the same time, Bobby would keep up the research. If he found anything, he'd make some kid fall asleep with the scrolls and take it.


No, What?! Yeah, the older hunter had been kidding, but he said he'd find a way to push stuff through, and Dean knew he would. Whether it would get to Dean specifically, that was another unknown. He figured he could go back to wherever it was he landed and check periodically. Assuming it wasn't some cesspool that he drowned in - Bobby's words, not his.


Before they hugged and said goodbye, Dean got an earful of what a fool he was for doing this with no safety net, nothing. He knew all that, but it changed nothing. He'd given his soul for Sam, and he would damn well give his body too cause that's the way it was, always had been between them. He'd always had one job, Sammy was it. Keep him safe. Even when Sam could take care of himself, that was still Dean's priority...always would be, until the hellhounds took him.


Dean put as many little things as he could into his pockets. Silver knife, dagger, pistol inside his waistband, the mp3 player, and a few other things. He touched his amulet, but left it under his shirt, then got on the bed next to the scroll. Grabbing the remote, he flipped the tv on and put some coins into the machine at the side of the bed. Nothing like magic fingers and porn as a send-off.


* * *

Dean woke with a mouth full of sand. Spitting, he sat up and looked around. He couldn't have made it... And yet, that big red star in the morning (he thought) sky.... "Holy fucking shit, I made it... it worked."


He took a deep breath of the salt tinged air, and looked around the beach, the cliffs behind him, and the vast sea or ocean in front of him. Alright... so no city, or town... shit, he'd hoped he'd land somewhere where someone might have seen Sam when he was the 'incoming.' At least he'd kept his memory, that was good.


He got up and started patting his pockets. Something was off. He looked down, and found he was wearing some sort of pajama pants and a long shirt. <i>What the fuck</i> He quickly felt his chest and found the amulet. His watch was gone, but his ring and bracelet were on his hand. There were no pockets, but on the ground, he found the mp3 player, a couple other things and the silver knife. None of his other weapons had made it.


Scrubbing his hand over his face, he started to walk. No idea where he was going but clearly there was nothing here. He'd need to find shelter and drink, if the sun was gonna beat down on him all damned day.

(Joint Post)

B'tan had been fighting Threads for half a turn now. Weyrlingmaster D'rak pushed them hard because dragonriders had to be in the air as soon as possible and some were younger than perhaps they should be. Smaller holds had been forced to evacuate and join the larger holds because there simply weren't enough dragons to cover all the previously inhabited regions to protect them from the fall of thread.


The Illness had taken care of any problems with the Holds being over-crowded. The dragons concentrated on protecting the areas over the crops and grazing fields. The grubs took care of threads that burrowed but fields and orchards could be severely damaged before the thread reached the ground, and before the grubs got to the threads that did reach the ground. All the dragons of Pern were split into three shifts and managed to protect enough of the crops to feed the people of the holds and weyrs. Still, it was easy to get tired, easy to make mistakes and there were so few dragons. Clutches of new eggs were small in number and the situation was worse if the dragonets failed to survive. Many believed it was just a matter of time. If the dragons died out, the whole world was doomed.



This threadfall had finally reached the ocean. K'tol ordered the dragons to do their final fly overs and confirm the thread was safely out to sea. B'tan and his bronze, Ithiel, turned, running a final check in their area to ensure the last fringes of the thread were burned to ash. Perhaps it was because it was the end of the shift. Perhaps is was because they were both tired. Perhaps is was just fate.



A patch of thread slipped through the cracks of the scattered dragons...and found B'tan and Ithiel.



The pain was blinding as the thread scored his face and down his chest and leg. Because of the angle, because they were turning, B'tan's neck was exposed and the thread burned its way down his neck and chest. Another writhed over his hand and burned through the riding strap. Ithiel's right wing was scored, finding one of the tender spots where the wing folded, and another where critical muscles aided in the beat of his wings and ran down his foreleg. More slipped over haunch and tail and neck. Rider and dragon screamed in unison at the agony.


As Ithiel plummeted he prepared to jump between when the scored strap, the injured hand and leg of his rider all conspired as one, coupled with the sudden twist Ithiel made to try to escape additional threads; B'tan lost his grip, lost his seat and fell from Ithiel's back. Fortunately they were low and over water. The impact was still hard and B'tan felt the scoring split open and blood begin to escape into the salty ocean.



Dean had been watching the strange clumps fall out of the sky and into the ocean, wondering what the fuck they were. Then the sky was filled with flying things for just a moment, and then they disappeared. All but one.


What the... that was a <i>dragonrider</i>... that was a falling dragonrider. Seeing both man and the incredibly large bronze colored dragon plunge into the ocean, Dean dropped his stuff on the shore, took his boots off and ran into the surf shouting. He could see the dragon lift out of the water, hover, its large head and neck, dipping into the water every once in a while. <i>Oh God, please let it not try to eat me... cause I got no clue how to fight one of those things.</i>


With long strokes, Dean swam out toward the man. One of those patches falling from the sky hit his raised arm and he shouted fucking murder. The pain was gone the instant his arm was back in the water, but it had felt like the thing was eating him, burning through his flesh, until the water made it let go or neutralized him. Now he had to watch for shit falling from the sky as he swam.


Dean finally reached the man who had now slipped under the water. Diving in, he searched the area and finding him, wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him up to the surface. Hooking an arm around his chin, Dean started to head back. The dragon flew right over them, occasionally getting its face so close Dean felt his heart slam into his chest. Maybe it wasn't violent but what if it didn't get he was saving this man?


Ithiel screamed and roared his fears as he circled them, dangerously low because his own injuries prevented him from climbing. <<Mine, I can't hear you. Mine... breathe, you must breathe.>>


Dean muttered under his breath about all the noise, and pulled them an out of the water onto the beach. "What the fuck?" The man was burned clear to the bone on one side. That stuff that had burned his own arm... that's what had happened to the man.


"Can you hear me..." Dean started administering CPR, "Come on... come on..."



Disorientation filled him as he felt the lips leave his own and he coughed out the water and drew in a painful breath. Sheer agony. B'tan had never been scored before, though he had heard how painful it was. Painful. Agony. None of it really defined the pain he felt. His pain. Ithiel's pain. His bronze dragon's fear and despair. He tried to blink away the salt water from his eyes and the darkness that seemed to ring his vision. He saw a man staring worriedly at him, on his knees beside him. The man had pulled him from the water. He knew that. The darkness drew him a little deeper. He was bleeding. He knew his arm was broken from his fall. But it seemed so inconsequential.



And he knew he was dying.



He had fought for Pern. He had become one of the elite, a dragonrider. His parents were both so proud of him, as was his sister. And if he died, Ithiel would go between, never to return. Pern couldn't afford another loss of a dragon. Ithiel was a bronze, one of the larger ones at Ista. He was strong. B'tan struggled against the dark, but it hurt too much and the darkness promised relief from his pain.



<Ithiel, don't follow me. Don't go 'between'. Pern needs you.> he mentally spoke desperately to his dragon. He looked up into the green-eyed man's face. "Thank you for trying," he whispered.


"What? No. No, Goddamit, don't you die on me. I'll get you help, and for your <i>pet</i> too. You're gonna be alright." Even as the words fell from his lips, Dean realized they were lies, the man was slipping away and with him having no idea where to go, where to get help quickly enough, there wasn't a fucking thing he could do. He licked his lips. "What... what's your name?"


Ithiel landed on the sand, his head butting the man away as he stared into the dying eyes of his rider. <<This is not how it ends, not in the songs you sang to me. Do not go...>>


A wave of sadness slammed into Dean at the high pitched lamenting sounds coming from the dragon.



"We were going to fly that black queen when she rose, even if she did have a male rider. Sam's a good dragonrider though. taught us a lot. And we were going to win them." B'tan reached out weakly to touch Ithiel's muzzle. His eyes shifted to the man who had saved him and reached out to him. "Don't let Ithiel go between. Don't let him die," he begged and waved Dean to his side. When Dean was close enough he took Dean's hand and pressed it against his dragon's scales.



<Accept him, take him, give him your love. Live for me, Ithiel. Please, live for me.> B'tan's hand fell into the sand as his eyes closed and his final breath whispered from his lips.


"Sam, did you say Sam?" Dean didn't look at the dragon as he shook the dying man hoping he would hang on a little longer. "Dammit." Turning to the dragon who was now making increasingly louder keening noised, and afraid it would turn on him, Dean's eyes met the creature's large eyes. A wave of sadness, rivaling that which he'd felt when Sam went missing, swept through him. "I tried..." he slapped the creature lighty and was about to pull away to escape this strange dizzy sensation and the feeling that he was about to drown in sorrow, when he heard a rumbling voice inside his head.


<<I know, I saw. He... he was MINE.>>


"What... did you say that? Dean was wide-eyed and still fighting the feelings threatening to overwhelm him.


<<He was MINE, and he is no more. I want to go 'between.' He asked that I love you.>>


<What?>


<<Clearly you're not as smart as he is.>>


<What...>


<<Your vocabulary could use help.>> Ithiel's eyes sparkled with tears, even as he struggled to carry out B'tan's impossible last wish.


<Now wait a minute... a dragon who...> Suddenly Dean saw much more than a dragon, which in and of itself was fantastic, but he saw and felt something... admiration.... no love... a tie that was forming, binding him to the creature. <I don't understand. Ithiel?">


Ithiel nudged his shoulder with his snout. <<What is to understand? You are MINE now.>>


Before Dean could answer, the sky filled with dragons and riders. As the dragons trumpeted their sorrow, keening in unison in a tragic lament, Dean gripped the ridges on his dragon's neck. <Stay with me. Don't... don't do that thing, going 'between.' Somehow Dean knew if anything happened to this dragon, now his dragon, he would be half the man he was, if not less than that.

(joint post)

Nimara immediately reported to his rider of B'tan's injury, of Ithiel's injury.



<<They did not go home. B'tan fell into the water. Someone is helping him.>> Nimara informed him.



Thread hadn't quite cleared one part of the land and K'tol had no choice but to stay and help keep the thread from infesting the fields of fruit there.



<Keep me updated,> K'tol told his dragon. He had no idea who would be out during a threadfall, but if they were helping the rider, it meant the dragons could finish their sweep. Finally the last of the threadfall reached the coast and K'tol was about ready to go after B'tan and see how he was doing and work on getting both rider and dragon back to Ista when he felt the wave pass through Nimara as it passed through all the dragons.


B'tan was dead. K'tol briefly shut his eyes. The young man had shown great promise, had qualities of leadership that given time, would have made him a wingleader if not even a weyrleader some day. Ithiel was large and powerful and a definite asset. That they lost B'tan nearly broke his heart. Knowing that Ithiel would be lost as well...



They went to B'tan slipping between and circling overhead where Ithiel was on the beach by his rider. Another man was there, holding onto the dragon. Ithiel had not yet gone between? Ithiel was badly scored, but K'tol suspected the dragon could get airborne if he had to, and yet he had not left B'tan yet. With the arrival of the other riders K'tol watched impassively, expecting to see Ithiel rise and trumpet his pain of loss before disappearing forever.



<<Ithiel will stay,>> Nimara informed him and he could sense his own dragon's surprise. <<He has taken a new rider.>> Nimara paused, sounding baffled. <<He has Impressed with the new one. D'ean.>>



<Dragons don't re-Impress!> K'tol said, shocked, as he directed Nimara to land on the shore.



<<A human can Impress multiple fire lizards. Rarely, a rider can Impress a new dragonet if they survive the loss of their first dragon. Why do you think we can not Impress again if we choose to? We can. But the loss...it is so hard to bear.>> Nimara keened again, echoing the sadness coming from Ithiel. <<B'tan begged him to stay, to take the one who tried to save B'tan.>> With a great final apread of his wings, Nimara settled onto the beach.



Nimara barely touching down, K'tol jumped to the sandy shore and ran up to the dead rider, the weeping Ithiel, and the man who leaned against the bronze, clutching at the dragon as if to keep him from flying away and between. K'tol's gaze dropped to B'tan. Blood darkened the sand. B'tan's injuries should not have killed him, but if he became unseated and fell and the cauterized scoring broke open...yes, B'tan had bled to death and no one could have saved him. Seeing the injuries to the B'tan's neck, hand and leg, he could see where an inexperienced rider might lose his seat. Even an experienced rider might, given the other scoring he had suffered.



His gaze raked over the new rider. It seemed out of every clutch Tanith laid there was something different about at least one dragon. A dragon that chose to Impress a new rider. No stranger than a black dragon he supposed, but he would have to set the harpers to search the records. He was still trying to grasp the event. He couldn't imagine losing half of himself and trying to take someone new, a stranger even, to fill that gaping ragged hole.



"D'ean, I am K'tol, weryleader of Ista. Nimara has told me that Ithiel has chosen you as his new rider. We need to get Ithiel home and the scoring tended. Once we get you there, at first opportunity we'll get you back to your hold to pick up whatever belongings you own."



Though he was completely out of his element, Dean stared right back at the guy giving him the once over. He gave the man a nod. "It's just 'Dean', sorry about... your friend." He wished he could have done something. Back home, he might have been able to.

<<Not your fault.>>


"How are we getting him out of here? His wing is..." Feeling just as helpless as when he'd watched B'tan's life slip away, Dean looked to the man for clues. "I don't think he can fly far... definitly not high."



K'tol gave the man who was likely the oldest newly impressed rider an understanding smile. "You are a dragonrider now. Unless Ithiel suddenly became a queen, you are now D'ean. It is tradition.



"We all know the risks. Having a dragon as a companion is indescribable to those who do not, but in return for that precious link, your life is one of danger as you fight Thread to protect the people of this land. B'tan was a fine young man and he will be missed." K'tol looked up at Ithiel in amazement, "Never before has a dragon taken on a new rider, at least as far as I am aware. For those who knew B'tan, this will be hard for them, to see another upon Ithiel's back. Forgive any that may be indelicate or overly distraught at this."



K'tol studied Ithiel's wing. "Nimara says Ithiel believes he can fly, and truly, he needs merely get aloft to find his way between and home to Ista. It would probably be best if you rode with me and Nimara so as not to put any added burden on Ithiel. I assume this will be your first time on dragonback and your first time between? It is frightfully cold and you will feel nothing surrounding you but darkness and have no breath to draw in. You are soaking wet." K'tol stripped off his jacket and handed it and his gloves to Dean. "I can do nothing about your pants but the coat and gloves should help keep the cold of between a bit at bay.


<On dragonback... is he fucking kidding me?>


<<What is 'fucking'? Is that the same as fecking? Don't be annoyed, it is a reasonable question.>>



"You've shoes to wear, I trust? Get them on. The sooner we are aloft, the sooner your dragon can be treated for the threadscoring." Once Dean had turned to face him, he saw the young man too had been injured by thread but in a way he had never seen. He realized suddenly that some of the thread must have still been alive in the water when he swam out to try to rescue B'tan. A courageous man to so boldly face the danger of thread filled waters. "The sooner you can be treated as well."

"Yeah I got shoes but I don't fly. I'll meet you there... just, you know, gimme directions." It was ridiculous to feel a sense of worry and loss, thinking about Ithiel going without him, but Ithiel needed help.

K'tol didn't know whether to laugh or have sympathy for D'ean. A dragonrider apparently afraid of heights, or flying on dragonback. "D'ean, Ista is across the sea. Surely you know Ista is on an island?" Perhaps the man had suffered some memory loss? Gently, but firmly, K'tol said, "You will have to move past your fear of heights. You are a dragonrider now. A dragon cannot fight thread without his rider to feed it firestone. You have been chosen, whether you desired it or not. Flying, D'ean, is non-optional. But we will work with you to help you get over your fear. Nimara can stay close to the ground. As I said, truly dragons only need to be aloft."

"I'm not afraid, I just don't fly." He started backing away, but felt Ithiel sending him soothing thoughts. He glanced at the dragon, knowing it was injured, in mourning for its rider, and now having to help him. Feeling like a selfish ass, he quickly put his boots on and came back.

"Go ahead, I'll ah... get on behind you." Really, he wanted to see how to mount the damned thing.

<<What is 'damned'?>>

<It's nothing. Is this dragon... tame?>

Ithiel snorted and passed the question on to Nimara.

Nimara twisted his head and stared briefly at Dean and then chortled. When he told K'tol of Dean's question, K'tol shook his head in disbelief. "D'ean, I can only assume you are one of the holdless to not know of these things. Were you never taught the learning songs? Dragon and rider, they are...one. We've only one dragon who tends to be...less than companionable, and that is, unfortunately a reflection of his rider. An unworthy candidate and regretfully one I chose. You are bound to Ithiel. Would you ever expect him to not be 'tame'?"

"That's it... yeah, holdless," he grasped on the excuse, not quite clear what it meant but guessing it was outcast or maybe some sort of hermit. He nodded, "well, until he talked in my head...heh." As Nimora got too close, Dean put his hand out and started to pat his face until Ithiel told him he should scratch Nimora's eyeridge. <I>Scratch?</i>

<<It is when you use your fingernails to-->>

Dean gave Ithiel a look.

"Ithiel, go," K'tol ordered. "I'll bring D'ean along. Tell Rezmuth to get D'rak, so he might help D'ean once D'ean is treated for the scoring." More gently he added, "W'tal and Toth will bring B'tan back to Ista."

Turning his attention back to D'ean who was gently scratching Nimara's eyeridges he said, "Your first flight on dragonback, you should be in front of me. Use Nimara's haunch, placing one foot there, and grab these straps to pull yourself up. I know the scoring is going to hurt as you pull up so as soon as your other foot is off the ground, I'll take hold of it and you can push off of me. Try to use your legs as much as you can or you may well break open the wounds."

Twisting his head he watched as Ithiel took one final look at the body of his former rider, focused briefly on D'ean, then crouched and propelled himself in to the air with a choked bugle of pain. Ithiel was barely more than five dragon lengths into the air when he went between. Looking at the young man before him, he reassured, "Ithiel will be waiting for you."

Seeing the dragon... no <i>his</i> dragon vanish, Dean sucked in his breath. K'tol's reassurance only made him feel slightly better. Then he heard Ithiel's reassuring voice in his head, and nodded.

K'tol couldn't help but wonder about the new situation. D'ean didn't seem the...brightest. B'tan had been very intelligent. Why would Ithiel take a holdless, clueless man who might even be a bit...touched...as a new rider? He was still trying to accept the fact Ithiel had taken a new rider in the first place. Perhaps D'ean wasn't touched but was simply overwhelmed by it all. How long had the man been holdless? Was he holdless by choice? If his name had been Dean, a strange name to begin with, his name should be 'D'an', but that was not what Nimara had told him.

<<Dean is not so strange a name,>> Nimara pointed out as he swung his head away from Dean to ready himself for their mounting and flight. <<Sam's fire lizard's name is Deanie, after all.>>

K'tol gave a soft snort. <<And Sam, the first bless him, is a kind young man but odd as well.>>

<<Then they may well make a good match. You know Ithiel is as taken with Merith as Merith is with him. Ithiel is one of the larger bronzeS and will be among the likely to fly Merith though Curant will be difficult to best. The obsession of Curant and S'rance over Merith and Sam will make Curant the most likely to win.>>

<Yes, an encouraging thought for the future. A weyrman instead of weyrwoman, and a choice of the arrogant S'rance or someone a bit touched as the most likely next weyrleader when Tanith is too old to rise again.>

<<D'ean is not touched. He is merely new. As were you, once,>> Nimara scolded him.

<But even as a candidate, I knew more about dragons than this one seems to!>

<<Perhaps with time his memories will settle and he will find he knows these things he does not yet recall. Let us be on our way. Ithiel needs his new rider at his side. Although he has taken D'ean, it does not mean he is not in great pain from the loss of B'tan. D'ean can ease that pain.>>

K'tol felt a pang of guilt. Of course he needed to get the two back together and quickly instead of letting his thoughts wander to the future. He knew that Merith would likely soon rise and all had been hoping any bronze flew Merith but Curant. By the first egg, Curant had tried to subjugate a queen! Merith had put that bronze in his place more than a few times, as Sam had done to S'rance. If Curant flew Merith, he was not sure what the resulting dynamics would be. Strange dragons. Strange times.

"Come now," K'tol told Dean. "Put that box and string, and your knife, in the front pocket so not to lose them when we go between. Get the gloves on and let's get you mounted. We need to get to Ista."

Sitting on the dragon's back, Dean had been sure there was a silent conversation going on between K'tol and his dragon and that it was about himself, but he had bigger problems. Flying. Goddamit... why him? He was trying not to hyperventilate, and not to show his inner turmoil as he dragged on the gloves. "What about... shouldn't we bury him?" he asked, looking behind him at the man who seemed used to ordering people around.

"Another dragon will carry B'tan home," K'tol assured him. "He'll be well taken care of. I pray he is the only one we've lost this day. Now, let's focus on you. Wrap the straps tightly in your hands and clench you knees tightly against Nimara. You won't hurt him, so don't be afraid you might. Nimara will begin to fly and then we will go between. In between you will feel nothing but cold. You will not feel Nimara beneath you, the straps clenched in your hands or me behind you. You will not be able to breathe. The cold will be beyond what you think you can stand. All will be black. No sound, no sight, no feel, no smell. The first time can be quite unsettling. Once aloft, Nimara will rise a handful of dragon lengths. I will tell you when to take a breath. We will go between and while it may feel like an eternity, it will be mere moments, and we will arrive at Ista and land. With my coat around you, I hope the bite of the cold will not hurt the scoring too badly."

K'tol wrapped an arm around Dean's waist. He normally wouldn't but already the man seemed on the edge of panic and he hoped the reassurance of K'tol's arm might help ease the fear.

"Let's go Nimara."

Nimara's muscles tightened as he pulled his great wings back. The dragon leapt skyward and with great strong beats of his wings climbed into the air. When Nimar had reached a height he was comfortable with, he told K'tol.

<<Ready.>>

"Deep breath, D'ean," K'tol urged.

Oh God... please don't let me hyperventilate, please don't... Dean's fingers bit into K'tols arms, with the straps trapped between them. Dragons don't crash. Dragons don't crash. Dragons don't crash.

As soon as the man had inhaled, Nimara took them between. K'tol held tightly to the man, fully knowing D'ean would not be able to feel him, but making certain when they came from between he would keep the man steady in his seat. Half a breath later, Nimara was circling down, landing as gently and carefully as possible near the wounded. K'tol released Dean's waist.

"Not so bad, was it?" K'tol said, the barest hint of amusement in his voice as he clapped Dean on the back. K'tol slid down the dragon's side and landed lightly on his feet. "You, now. I'll help keep you on you upright. Nimara, crouch low so D'ean doesn't have as far to come."

His injuries burned, maybe he'd moved too abruptly in his panic when they were in flight, but Dean hardly cared. The ground, that was all he cared about. That... and not falling down on shaky legs, there were a lot of these... dragonriders around. "Give me a mo'" he said through tight lips, dragging in a deep breath, then searching for Ithiel.

<<I'm right here.>> The bronze was patiently awaiting the healers who were dealing with the most wounded first.

Putting a hand on K'tol's shoulder, Dean eased down. The instant his feet touched the ground, he took a deep breath. "You were right. That's not so bad. If you have a death wish." Grimacing, he nodded toward Ithiel, then started to walk toward him. <Is it me? They're all looking at me like I have two heads.>

<<No they're looking at me, because I have you now.>>

"Ah." He reached the dragon, but had no clue what to do. He looked back toward K'tol, raised his arms slightly and dropped them against his thighs. "A little help?"

K'tol gave a small sigh. He had duties to attend to, but he couldn't leave Ithiel to deal with his new and confused chosen. Ithiel was trying to deal with enough. They had run their shift at least, Fort Weyr was handling the thread to the north. They would rise when the Thread came to Ista in an hour or so, but only need worry about their own hold at that time and those from High Reaches Weyr would come to assist. The time table wasn't the easiest to manage to ensure all got rested and all holds were covered as no one weyr now had suffcient dragons to protect their own holds. Once the thread fell over Ista they would have nearly a day before the next threadfall came back to Ista, and they did not have the primary shift of suplemental dragon aid to work, so the dragons would only need scorch thread above their own hold.

He strode over to the young man's side and led him over to the supplies. "The healers will get to Ithiel as soon as they can. You can aid him now by first getting tended by one of the apprentices since your wounds are not grievous." K'tol pointed over to an area where several young men and women aided the walking wounded. "Once tended, you will return to Ithiel and take a pouch of saltwater and a rag and gently wipe over the scoring Ithiel suffered. After you clean an area use a jar of numbweed and carefully slather it down the scoring until you reach the next part. Leave Ithiel's wing to the healers. After you have done what you can, stay with him. Once he is tended go to your weyr. Weyrlingmaster D'rak will help orient you. In an hour, the thread will reach us and those that can fly will. You and Ithiel will stay safely in your weyr." K'tol took back the coat Dean peeled off. "It will be several sevenday before Ithiel will be able to fight thread again. In that time you will need to learn how so when Ithiel is ready, you are as well. D'rak will help you with all of this." K'tol handed Dean the strange small box with strings and the knife that was in the front pocket, then took back his gloves.

What the fuck was a weyr? Dean barely bit back on the question, more than aware that this guy thought he was a bit nuts. Plus he seemed to think that Dean was going to stay and fall in with their ways. He just needed to find Sam and get the hell... Before he even finished the thought, a sense of loss invaded his soul and he was looking over at Ithiel. If the dragon lost him too... then he'd go to that empty cold place, 'between.'

"As Merith is the first queen born that has survived in the past several turns, she and her rider Sam only fly to protect Ista. This is true of all queens, though we weyrleaders would prefer they not fly at all," he said with something akin to exasperation. "Sam aids in training of the werylings, teaching them the necessary things of how to guide dragons between, how to ride, how to fight thread. He is surprisingly good with a sword and if you need training in swordsmanship, you need merely ask him. He often helps tutor the weyrlings in history as well." K'tol gave him a bit of a hard look. "One thing that you apparently need training in. Even though Merith chose a male rider, he is a queen's rider and outranks all but myself and Leyla, the werywoman. Do not give him grief that he rides a queen. We do not tolerate it."

He tried not to get excited hearing the name 'Sam.' It was a common enough name, there could be thousand's of Sam's on this planet, millions. Yeah, on a planet with weird names like K'tol and Nimara... sure. It had to be Sam, his sam. Dean almost looked proud when the guy talked about Sam's abilities with the sword, but when he went on, Dean doubled over. "Rides a queen. You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me, wait till Bobby... that's like a tranny... never mind." He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Right, no making fun of Sam. Check. I'm going over to the healers to find some weeds to numb Ithiel."

K'tol sighed softly. The man was downright strange. He hoped the man was half the dragonrider B'tan was. If so, then he could be as strange as he wanted to be.

As he walked away, Dean's mind was a whirl of thoughts. Sam was here. He was gonna see him soon. Yeah there would be complications, as in the loss of memory but he was sure he could jog his brother's memory. They'd figure this out, they would. He was whistling when he reached the healers or apprentices or whatever.

They were really young, too young to be docs. He looked at them with a bit of suspicion, but they introduced themselves and started cleaning his wound. "Sonova..." Feeling two pairs of startled eyes on him, he smiled. "Nothing."

As they worked on him, they questioned him on where he was from, what happened to B'tan, how had he impressed Ithiel. He answered the parts he could, and said 'God knows' to the parts he couldn't, which had them staring at him again and then asking what 'God' was. Clearing his throat, he thanked them and asked for weed for his dragon. They laughed and then gave him everything he needed, which didn't include actual weeds.

Soon he was back with Ithiel, a couple other riders giving him tips on cleaning the dragon's wounds. <You're badly hurt.>

<<I will... Live.>>

Dean hung his head, and scratched Ithiel's eye ridge. He should consider it yuck, but he didn't. This was a beautiful beast.

<<Who are you calling a beast?>>

<It's a compliment. I could call you 'girl' like my other beast, my Impala.>

<<Beast is fine.>>

<I thought so.>

The healer proper finally made it to Ithiel and Dean. After introducing herself as Jontae, she climbed up on Ithiel's back and spent time carefully cleaning the scoring where his wing and shoulder met. After carefully examinging his wing, she tended to the scoring she found there, then finished cleaning those places Dean had not yet gotten to. As she was finishing, an older man approached.

The man gave a nod to Ithiel. "Ithiel, I am sorrowed by your loss and I hear you have done what none has done before." The older man looked at Dean. "Taken a new rider. I am Weyrlingmaster D'rak. I oversee candidates, those who may impress newly hatched dragons. I likewise oversee their training. As I understand it, you are quite unfamiliar with the ways of dragons and their riders. This, in essence, makes you a weyrling. The newest dragonets are about half a turn in age. You will train with the weyrlings and there are nearly mature dragons which you can learn to ride upon. Threadfall is nearing. I will take you to your weyr. Headwoman Danai has already tended to removing B'tan's belongings. She or one of her people will be by to help you get what you need. After threadfall has passed, we will send someone to retrieve your belongings for you. Ithiel will meet us at the weyr."

D'rak turned and began heading for an entrance across the clearing. The wounded were already inside or headed that way and dragons and riders were preparing themselves for the approaching threadfall.

Only about half of that made sense, but Dean was okay with that. One step closer to Sam, that was the most important thing now. That and his need to make sure Ithiel would be okay. He looked over at the dragon, thanked the healer and started to follow this werylingmaster. He wanted to know more about these threads, but knew that he'd stick out even more if he asked a basic question like that. "So this... this Sam, he ah... what does he do when threads are falling?"

"Merith is like any queen and cannot breathe fire. Sam rides with a flamethrower and burns the thread that manages to slip by the riders. He and Leyla work quite well together. To have a young queen with an energetic rider is a pleasure to watch work. The ground crews have much fewer burrows to go after since Sam and Merith have taken to the skies. Many would prefer they stay out of harm's way for Merith is the hope of Pern. The older queens lay few eggs and many of those dragonets are sick. Tanith's eggs have all hatched, though she lays few, and each clutch seems to produce some dragons that are different. Your Ithiel for example, choosing to Impress with another rider. A black gold queen who chose a male rider. We all hope that Merith is not barren, that she will rise soon and that she will produce more than a mere handful of eggs for her clutch. If she does not," D'rak shook his head, "then I fear it is only a matter of time before dragons are extinct and humans will be soon to follow."

He lead the new rider inside and after a handful of turns in the tunnels, headed up steps. He finally led Dean into a spacious cavern. Ithiel was already away from the large entrance from which he came and left by and had settled back by the way. The way Ithiel laid his head, the way he was half curled up, D'rak knew how sad the dragon was.

"Stay with Ithiel. We've had riders survive the death of their dragons. Some do not keep their sanity. We have never had a dragon choose to survive the death of his rider. You will have to guide us and tell us what Ithiel might need and you will need to make sure he eats while in mourning. I will help teach you about the caring of a dragon, but you must tell me if we are not meeting the needs of Ithiel."

Looking over at the large beast, Dean nodded. "This wasn't really what I want..." he couldn't finish the statement, it sounded so fucking selfish. Yeah he was selfish, but somehow having that dragon changed things. He couldn't even bring himself to wish it hadn't happened, even if that would have been for the best. And the fact that Sam apparently had a dragon too, one important to this world... could you have a more complicated situation?

He let out a deep breath and walked to the ledge, squatting to pet the dragon, only to be told by it that it preferred to be scratched. "I'll watch him," He agreed, looking over his shoulder. "You think this Sam... he can drop by, just for a minute?"

<<You don't just summon a queen's rider.>>

<Shshsh, you try to rest.>

D'rak's brow lifted in surprise. "Have you not heard me, boy? Thread approaches. He is preparing to fly. He spends a good deal of time with the weyrlings. You will meet the man soon enough." He paused for a moment and stared at Dean. "We are all aware Merith is fond of Ithiel. Sam was pleasant enough to B'tan and I suppose has resigned himself to the inevitability of what will happen when Merith rises. I know he has encouraged B'tan to some degree, considering S'rance is determined Curant will fly Merith. You being Ithiel's new rider...I imagine he will come meet you. He suffered at S'rance's hand when he was a drudge under the Holder Son's rule. He will not want Curant to win Merith." D'rak looked sadly at Ithiel. "Merith rises soon. Ithiel will not be able to fly her this time. Perhaps one of the other bronzes will win her. I hope so for Sam's sake. I will let him know at first opportunity that Ithiel's new rider wishes to meet him."

Sam suffered... it better fucking not be his Sam, for this S'rance's sake, it just better not fucking be. He practically roiled with anger, though he didn't know what the rest had to do with it. So what if Merith liked to fly with Curant or Ithiel, what did he mean win her? "You mean mate with her, Sam's dragon?"

The look he got from D'rak told Dean he should know the answer to that, or he'd used the wrong terminology or something. "Look... you know W'tal said something about getting my stuff, well I don't have any. I think I was robbed, I ah... hit my head, or they hit me, I don't know. I just don't remember a lot, but some of it is coming back." He could see the guy was in a hurry to leave. "I might know this Sam... I..." Seeing no sympathy in the guy's eyes, he just nodded, "I'll wait here."

D'rak had been told D'ean had little to no knowledge or the ways of dragonriders. It was best he clarified things for D'ean immediately, though he needed to be on his way. "You have felt Ithiel's physical pain. You have felt his emotions as well. What do you think happens when dragons mate?"

With that, D'rak turned and hurried down the stairs. Thread was already falling on the outer reaches of Ista.

* * *

(Joint post)


Sam was tired. He had been helping keep the firestone bags loaded while the dragons of Ista had the dragon aid shift, and then reloading for the upcoming thread fall, then having flown the fall. The flamethrower was fecking heavy. He had also heard about B'tan, and it hurt. He had been flirting with B'tan. With Merith so strongly attracted to Ithiel, he couldn't help but find himself reacting to B'tan. Both men were a little...confused by it as neither had ever been particularly attracted to the same gender, but the emotions of the dragons were so strong, they had come to accept it. They hadn't done much more than kiss a few times and B'tan knew what S'rance had done to Sam, knew that Sam was uncomfortable with the thought of making love to a man, but he had promised Sam it would be good between them and they would learn together. Sam was certain that Merith would do everything she could to avoid Curant, but he also knew when queens went into heat, ultimately the strongest bronze won in most cases as the queen's sensibilities were lost. Leyla had council ed him on how to handle Merith and gave him some suggestions that might give Ithiel that edge if he needed it to catch Merith.

But now B'tan was gone. How Ithiel had not gone between was the talk of the weyr and he was as shocked as everyone else. He hadn't heard much about the new rider, though he was certain rumors about him would be rampant in no time. He didn't want any rumors to influence him so he needed to meet the new rider as soon as possible. He hoped the man was nothing like S'rance. With his luck though? The man would probably be worse. Probably ugly as a half starved runner, with bad teeth, and lustful looks and grabby hands that had no gentleness.

<<You are such the pessimist,>> Merith yawned. <<Go and meet the man first! I wish to visit Ithiel as well. He is so torn between loss and the joy of impression, and the pain of the scoring. He suffers guilt that he let his rider fall, that he did not see the thread. He needs comfort.>>

<He won't be able to fly you, not this time,> Sam said.

<<Of course not. Maybe I will let none of them catch me!>>

Sam laughed at her attempt to cheer him. He took the tunnels he had grown so familiar with, the ones that led to B'tan and Ithiel. He reached the stairs and hesitated, then ascended them quickly. Best he get there and get this over with. It would be so strange that it was not B'tan he would find inside.

"Hello?" Sam called. He realized he didn't know the man's name. "Dragonrider? May I enter?"

Dean had left the door open, and he gave a resigned, "yeah, sure." A long line of people had walked in already, to tell him what to do, to see how his dragon was, to meet him. He wasn't all that used to people looking at him like he was 'slow.' It was starting to get wearing and he'd been very close to tossing the last couple people out on their asses. Now he was on the couch trying to figure out what the fuck these scrolls said.

He wiped a frustrated hand over his face and started to wearily look up.

Sam walked inside. The furniture hadn't changed, but then the man hadn't been there long enough to chose his own. His eyebrow arched when he saw the man. B'tan was handsome, but shards, this guy was fecking gorgeous. He was studying some scrolls and there was definitely a look of frustration on the man's face and he looked tired.

"Uh, hello. I'm Sam, Merith's rider."

"Sam!" Dean immediately sprang up, crossed the room and opened his arms wide, dragging his brother up against him in a hug. "It's you." He slapped his back, and held him just a moment longer, very aware Sam was holding himself stiff, but he didn't care. "Sammy..." His voice was thick with emotion, but he forced himself to pull back.

His gaze swept over his brother's face and body. He looked the same, but he was slightly thinner. His leather outfit ... same as what a lot of the dragonriders wore, seem to be tailored for him. His arms were bare, and Dean frowned at the jagged scar on his upper arm.

Sam was startled by the greeting. He still tended to keep himself distanced from people and few acted quite so familiar with him. Ithiel must have told the rider a lot about Sam. Well, at least it seemed as if the man would have no problem with the idea of being his lover if he was this enthusiastic already.

"I prefer Sam," he told the man. "I'm afraid I don't know your name. I take it Ithiel has told you about me, about B'tan?"

"Huh?" He shook his head. "Not much. I don't want him to have to talk about B'tan more than he is." he shrugged. "It's Dean. Dean Winchester."

<<It's D'ean>>

<I know my name!>

<<Then you're saying it wrong.>>

Ignoring his dragon, Dean searched for a hint of recognition in Sam's eyes. There was nothing. And of course he thought he'd been prepared for it, but when he was bursting with excitement at having found him, the cool look, just the way Sam would look at a stranger, kinda hurt. "Do you want to... sit?" He asked, taking a step back and dropping down onto the small couch.

Baffled by the man's response, Sam stared at him. Ithiel hadn't told him anything? Deanwinchester. What a mouthful. No wonder he went by D'ean. He must not yet be used to his new name. He did have to stifle a smile. The man was probably going to take some ribbing that Sam's fire lizard and he shared the same name. The man seemed taken aback by Sam's response. If Ithiel hadn't told him anything then why would he be so excited? "Uh, sure," Sam said.

Settling down onto the couch, he ran his hand absently over the fabric. He swore he could still smell B'tan. Well, he suspected he wasn't going to need to do much convincing, but he wanted to make sure the rider knew he approved of Ithiel as Merith's potential mate. He reached out and laid his hand gently on the man's knee, then began running his hand a little way up the man's thigh.

"Ithiel and Merith, they, well, you probably know they're attracted to each other. I know rumor says Ithiel will not be up to flying her when she rises soon, but the time after, I would truly like it if Ithiel was motivated to catch her." Sam bowed his head a little and looked at D'ean suggestively. His eyes lingered on the man's lips before drifting down D'ean's chest to his groin and back up to meet the man's gaze. "Very motivated to catch her."

Okay, first of all, Dean thought he'd imagined Sam's hand on his thigh. Not his hand, but the movement of his hand, a little too much like a caress. He'd ignored it, but he couldn't ignore the way Sam just focused on his mouth and his... nah. Still, just in case, he grasped Sam's wrist. Clearing his throat, he gently put Sam's hand on Sam's own thigh.

When D'anwinchester (<<D'ean>> Merith corrected) grabbed his wrist he stiffened and it took a lot of willpower not to rip his hand free, but all D'ean did was move Sam's hand from his thigh. But he had been so enthusiastic! He knew it wasn't just Ithiel's emotions coming through. D'ean was genuinely glad to see him. There had been strong emotion in his eyes and in his voice. So why the mixed signals?

<I think there's something wrong with Sam.> D'ean worried about Sam.

<<The rest of the weyr thinks there's something wrong with you. Everyone is wrong.>>

<But...> Dean noticed that his dragon was no longer listening to him, but was clearly somewhere else.

<<She's coming. Merith.>>

"Merith... your dragon, and... ah Ithiel. I think he's motivated... you know, from his thoughts." Dean nodded. "So... you're okay?"

Sam felt the burst of attraction as Merith settled on Ithiel's ledge and moved next to him. She bumped her head against Ithiel's and thrummed soothingly as she nestled up next to him. Sam could have heard their conversation if he chose to. He could hear any dragon if he focused on trying to. He had discovered this quite by accident but was glad it required a conscious effort on his part. The green dragons really didn't think about much beyond sex, food, and fighting thread.

The overwhelming love and attraction Merith had for Ithiel filled him and he looked at Ithiel's impressed with longing. He had learned to manage these feelings that weren't his, but he remembered how sweet and gentle B'tan's kisses were. The human touch...he didn't get much of that and he had, more than anything, just liked to sit with B'tan. They often held hands because neither were sure how far they wanted to go until Ithiel had actually won Merith. They had already discussed that if Ithiel did fly Merith they would live together. Otherwise they knew they would never get any peace from the feelings their dragons had for each other.

In light of Ithiel's injury, it was fortunate that Sam did not have to live with the rider whose dragon flew Merith even though it tended to be tradition. There was rumor it was more than just tradition if the queen's rider was without a lover but Sam had not been able to find any proof of that. He had sent Deanie out with requests to harpers and historians outside of the weyr to confirm or disprove this rumor.

Sam couldn't help himself. He laced his fingers with that of D'ean's. He wanted to kiss him. Okay Merith's intense feelings for Ithiel made him want to kiss D'ean. Very badly.

"Okay?" Sam asked, trying to focus on D'ean's words. "I will miss B'tan. He was very kind and even a little shy for a bronze rider, at least with me. He was smart and funny when he wanted to be. I would have been content with him as a partner. I...I will have to get to know you."

Dean's gaze dropped to his hand. His heart lurched at the 'weirdness' of this, but he wasn't completely unaware of certain unwanted feelings that were teasing him. <Cut it out, Ithiel.>

"Ah... Um." He untangled their fingers, trying not to look at Sammy's face, afraid of what he'd see in his eyes. "You already know me. You just need to... remember." His stomach started to tense and he became too aware of Sam's scent mixed with leather. "I said cut it out, Ithiel," he snapped. "Aren't they supposed to listen?"

Sam really didn't want to release the rider's hand but did. The man had been through a lot, he told himself. Watching a dragonrider die, suddenly being impressed by the same dragon who's rider passed. Surely feeling Ithiel's sadness and wounds and now this. The man might have a companion.

<<He doesn't.>> Merith said absently.

"How do you know me? I don't recall ever meeting you before," Sam said. He smiled a little and looked over at the two dragons. "As for them listening?" Sam was about to explain the independence of dragons when he realized what the dragonrider meant. "He isn't intentionally antagonizing you. It's part of the bond you have with your dragon. He can't keep his feelings for Merith from you, not when they're so close together. The only reason B'tan and I...we never...all we ever did was kiss."

"I know you because you're my... hold on a minute." Dean's eyes widened slightly. "Lemme get this straight... your dragon likes my dragon, so... you liked my dragon's rider, B'tan and now you think you like me." Dean ran his hand over his face. "No, what you're trying to say is you loved B'tan because of them, and now you're sad..."

Only Dean suddenly had this crazy urge to nuzzle Sam's neck. Sam, his brother, so not happening. "Can you explain it again?" He blew out a hot breath.

Sam found himself brushing back a lock of D'ean's hair from near his temple. He laughed softly at the poor new rider. He reminded himself the man was basically a weyrling. These sorts of issues didn't arise for new riders for close to a turn and they had learned by that time the intimacies of the dragon/rider relationship.

"Everything between you and your dragon...there are no secrets. Strong emotions are entangled and it isn't always apparent whose emotions it might originate from. You would have learned this, learned how to manage this, if you had impressed Ithiel when Ithiel was a dragonet. I'm sorry if you don't find me...acceptable. We can keep our distance from each other, but the longing will be there and only through contact with each other will that longing be eased. As I said, B'tan and I never did more than kiss. Were we in love? We were working on it. We spent time together, got to know each other. Neither one of us were necessarily interested in a male-male relationship, but," Sam shrugged helplessly, "with those two," he jerked his head toward the dragons, "the feelings of attraction increased and we decided we would try it. Assuming Ithiel won Merith. That's why we never slept together though. In case Ithiel failed to win Merith. But I think it would have happened anyway. Eventually. At least once a sevenday we would share a bed. Nothing intimate, though those two did not help matters. The talk of the weyr was that we were already lovers. Truly, we have--had-- only been together four or five months. Ithiel is only a turn and a half in age, so it wasn't until he matured that Merith started having an interest in him."

<<Liar. I merely waited for him to grow old enough. I have been 'interested' in him for over a turn. And of all the bronze riders, B'tan was the best match for you anyhow.>>

Dean wondered how could he be queasy about all this and at the same time 'get it.'?

<<Because you want it too, Mine.>>

"The hell I do." Dean blinked, surprised as the words came from his lips instead of a mental thought. He cleared his throat. "You ... slept with a guy, but didn't have... sex... but you wanted to and now..." No, no fucking way he was going there out loud. He'd think on it later. "Okay so, whoever's dragon gets with yours, you'll have feelings for them and... This is getting confusing. Merith wants Ithiel, WHY would she get with another dragon?"

"No, I won't have feelings for whoever's dragon flies Merith. I will have sex with them. It is the way of things. Typically the queen's rider and the bronze rider will stay together, but not always, particularly if either of the riders already have a chosen. B'tan was offering me that protection and argument in the event Curant beats out Ithiel. And it isn't a matter of what Merith wants. When she rises, it turns into instinct. The dragon that is able to catch her, therefore the strongest, will mate with her. There are times it can be influenced who wins and with B'tan and I already together, our bond would help Ithiel that much more."

Maybe he should be hoping Merith did get with another dragon, thought Dean.

<<No. I'm going to fly Merith, and you'll fly Sam.>>

Dean flushed a deep red. "I need a fucking drink."

Sam smiled at the man's embarrassment. "I'm sorry, this has to be terribly hard for you." Sam pushed himself off of the couch and went over to a trunk by the wall. When he opened it, he felt a pang of loss. B'tan's clothes were still there, as was a set of his own. Likely B'tan's clothes had not been taken because Sam's was mixed in with them. He extracted the wineskin and cups and brought them over, pouring a cup for D'ean and handing it to him. "Here."

"Thanks," Dean took a few long gulps, wishing it was beer but anything would do. "You two, he was your... whatever." Dean didn't even know what to call B'tan.

"He was my friend," Sam said softly.

"Look Sam, you're my broth... I think of you as a brother." Okay, that had to sound nuts too. "I mean, I think I know you. Maybe if you look at me real close, you'll remember... something?" Hopeful green eyes locked with his brother's slightly slanted hazel eyes.

Sam poured himself a cup of wine and refilled D'ean's. "I've suffered no injuries that have damaged my memories." Looking over that strong gorgeous body he gave something of an embarrassed smile. "Believe me, I think I would have noticed you, or certainly remember you. You're not from Ista. I've never been any where but Ista. Even if you visited, regardless that I have rank now, I was a drudge. I worked in the kitchen sometimes. I worked the fields. I gathered herbs for the healer. S'rance never let me get close to anyone." He looked into those beautiful green eyes. "I'm sorry, D'ean. You must have me confused with someone else, perhaps someone sent to foster at another hold from yours?"

Deanie appeared from between, chattering a warning.

"Oh fecking hell," Sam muttered. "Please, D'ean, please, would you kiss me, so when he arrives he cannot deny I have an apparent relationship with you?"

"Now who sounds crazy?" He took a step back. "What are your talking about, and is that Merith's... baby?"

Confusion flit over Sam's face. "Of course not. That's Deanie, my fire lizard." He glanced toward the door. He wished now that he had shut it. He could hear S'rance's boots on the stairs. He was almost there. Sam's stomach knotted.

When he looked back at Sam, he could see his agitation, recognized it. He grabbed Sam by the arms, drawing him close. "Tell me what's wrong. Now."

<<S'rance approaches. Curant's rider. He wants to fly Sam too.>>

"He's not fucking flying Sam," Dean ground out.

When Dean pulled him close, Sam grasped at that as acceptance and permission. He wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him against his body and kissed him.

Shell-shocked, Dean instinctively started to kiss back, sliding his tongue past Sam's and into the wet heat of his mouth. A slight moan broke from him as his hand slid behind Sam's neck and he moved his mouth over his brother's.

Sam opened his mouth without hardly thinking. Shards this man could kiss. He responded with his own moan and felt his cock take an interest. It had usually taken a little bit of making out before either he or B'tan reacted, but there was something about this man and he felt the heat rising in his own body. He ran his hands up and down the muscular back of the rider.

The sound of boots hitting the stone ground brought Dean back to earth. He pulled away quickly. "Oh God..."

Sam made a definite sound of complaint when D'ean broke their kiss.

Dean was wiping the wetness off his lower lip when a dark haired dragonrider came in.

"Don't you fucking knock?"

<<That's S'rance>>

<I got that.>

S'rance's blue eyes took the entire scene in, his mouth flattening into an angry straight line. He took a few long strides into the room, as if he owned the weyr. "You have no right."

"To...?" Reading the guy's aggressive body language, Dean took a couple of long strides himself, meeting him in the middle of the room. "Right to what?"

"Him. Sam. He's mine."

"Your what?" The chattering from behind him got on Dean's nerves. "Keep that lizard quiet," he snapped, without looking back at Sam. "He's your what?"

"I am not yours!" Sam growled stepping forward. "You still can't accept I hold rank. I will now always hold rank over you. You have no claim on me!"

"I will always hold rank over you. You were born under my boot. You writhed under me, and you screamed under my whip. Nothing chang--"

It was like a vein burst in Dean's temple. "Sonova..." He laid into the dragonrider, no holds barred, punching him in the face, then again into his gut, before the guy ever reacted to protect himself. And when S'rance started to, they went at it full out, Dean cursing as he tried to get a choke hold over the man.

<<Mine, you are hurt... don't fight him, not now.>>

<You... go make love, I got this.>

Dean took a hit to the jaw, and tasted blood.

<<I don't think so.>>

The pleasure Sam felt at seeing D'ean laying into S'rance was almost sinful. D'ean was a collection of contradictions, but there was no doubt he was ready to tear S'rance into as many pieces as possible. It was also clear this emotion was coming from D'ean, not Ithiel. As if on cue, he heard the rumble in Ithiel's throat. He knew Curant would not be far if S'rance was fighting.

<Merith, keep Ithiel and Curant under control,> Sam ordered. <Ithiel is already injured. I will not tolerate him being injured any worse. I will handle these two.>

"Stop!" Sam thundered and pulled Dean off of S'rance and stepped between them. "You entered this weyr without permission. You bait a new rider and one whose dragon is in mourning and injured. He is my chosen. I am his. You have no claim. Even if Curant flies Merith, you will still have no claim. Leave or I will have you in shackles, threadfall be damned." Sam's eyes fairly blazed and Merith's outraged bugle echoed in the cavern.

Dean's jaw pulsed. He wished Sam had stayed out of this, that he'd have let Dean show the guy who was under whose fucking boots.

"This is not over." S'rance's eyes blazed just as hotly, as he locked gazes with Dean.

"Oh it so fucking is." Dean pushed him roughly toward the door.

Ithiel roared with anger and started to stand. <<Tell yours to leave,>> he called out to Curant, who was flying in circles and only not dropping to the ledge because of Merith's command.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," S'rance answered, turning and leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean's chest heaved as he turned to Sam. "What's the matter with you? Didn't you hear the shit he was talking about you? Goddammit, you should have let me..."

(Joint post)

Sam turned from D'ean and walked back to the wineskin and poured himself a full cup of wine. His hand shook as he downed it all. "It was the truth," Sam said coldly. "He is the Lord Holder's son at Ista Hold. Where I lived. They took me in when I was orphaned when my mother died in a fire and my father died in a hunting accident soon after. Shortly before I was found on search he gave me just punishment for disobeying his orders. Once here, before I had impressed...He took me against my will. I was going to leave when Merith hatched early. I couldn't leave then. I had hoped he would not impress and be forced back to Ista Hold. I was not so lucky and he impressed one of the largest bronze dragons at the weyr. The larger the bronze, the more likely it is they will succeed in flying a queen when she rises."

Dean thought he'd been angry before, but as Sam casually told him the nightmare his life had been since his arrival, Dean became livid. Even if the history hadn't really happened, it was real to Sam. As for the things S'rance had done to him... Dean wanted to shout, to demand to know why Sam hadn't taken the guy out. Goddamit Sam knew how to fight... to protect himself... but this wasn't <i>that</i> Sam. He rubbed his eyes, trying to gain control over his emotions which he realized were unsettling Ithiel.

Sam crossed the distance to Merith and leaned against her chest, absently stroking her scales. Deanie landed on his shoulder and crooned into his ear. "You had full rights to attack him as he was in your weyr uninvited. He is," Sam sighed, "of higher rank than you, technically, though you can go against his orders if those orders are out of line. B'tan became quite adept at it. Regardless of rank, if you attack him without justified provocation, you will be punished. I may be able to intercede on your behalf, I may not. I apologize for claiming we have a relationship when one does not exist. Forgive me," Sam said quietly.

"No. That's fine." Deep furrows marred his forehead. <S'rance is the walking dead.>

<<No. You have to listen to Sam, you will be punished.>>

<Let them try.> His jaw pulsing, Dean came up to Sam, put his hand his brother's back, then pulled him into a hug. "It won't happen again, Sammy. Not ever. I'll take care of this." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent himself from imagining what had happened to Sam. It was beyond anything he'd imagined having to deal with, and the fact that Sam seemed to be taking it in stride was damned weird.

<<He is more troubled by this than B'tan,>> Ithiel told Merith. <<He loves Sam.>>

<<Sam certainly has his own feelings of attraction to him. He has only so reacted to Selina before her death when she 'fell' down the stairs. I like your D'ean,>> Merith confirmed and settled down next to Ithiel, nuzzling at him lovingly. <<I am sorrowed that you lost B'tan, but would have been lost myself if you had gone between.>>

<<I am glad I stayed. B'tan is... was wise.>> Ithiel fought the waves of sadness, instead intertwining his long then with the black queen's, taking the comfort that she offered.

D'ean's touch, his hug and promise, nearly broke Sam's control. He didn't even care that the man called him Sammy. There was something about him and somehow it seemed so right that D'ean would protect him. It made no sense. He didn't know the man, yet a part deep inside him protested that he did. He clutched at the man tightly. "Leave him be. He can do nothing to me without risking the wrath of the weyr. Merith is the hope of Pern and no harm can befall her. If he tried to hurt me, Merith would tell the others. If Selina had impressed she would be alive now, but there is no way to prove S'rance had her killed. Curant denies S'rance did, but I'm certain of it. Now I have put you in danger. If he can arrange an accident for you without it being tied back to him, he will. Take care of what you eat and drink. He tried to kill his father with poison. B'tan knew and accepted these risks. I had no right to put them on you without warning." Why did he feel so safe in this stranger's arms?

"Thanks for the warning." Dean gave a tight smile, still holding Sam , but forcing himself to loosen his grip and not take his anger at S'rance out by freaking squeezing Sam to death. "I can take care of myself." Next he sent reassurances and calming thoughts to his dragon, giving him a worried look. "Glad Merith is here for him."

"I'm glad he's here for Merith. I think if he had gone between, she might have too."

Finally letting Sam go, but keeping one hand on his back, he started walking him back to the living room area. "Let's finish that drink. And maybe talk a little more, hmm? You always liked that, talking." Giving him a real smile this time, he moved his hand to Sam's shoulder and pushed lightly down to have him sit.

Sam let D'ean guide him back to the couch. S'rance's sheer audacity shook him, reminding him that S'rance still wanted him in that way. He had tolerated the leering because he really didn't have a choice. Curant was an aggressive bronze but Merith, like any queen, could quell him. Sometimes even the weyrwoman's queen interceded. The older riders did tend to try to protect Sam from S'rance's unwanted advances. Sam had kept himself distant from most people because he feared S'rance would hurt them. Or arrange for them to be hurt as he had with Selina. Though he hardly knew D'ean, something inside him told him that it would wound him deeply to lose D'ean. How crazy was that. He had only met the man a few minutes ago!

He accepted the cup of wine D'ean handed him and was glad to see his hands had stopped shaking. Mostly. "I really don't talk much. I'm used to being alone. I talk when I teach, of course. And I talked with B'tan. Otherwise," Sam shrugged miserably, "I don't want to get anyone else killed so I keep to myself. I have Merith and Deanie, so I'm not lonely."

Deanie landed on the arm of the couch beside Sam and studied D'ean, measuring him. He chirped questioningly.

"Deanie? That THING?" He pointed at the what he now had been told was a firelizard, and not a dragonet. "All the names you could have give it and you name it after ME?"

<<Calm down, Mine. He loves the firelizard, it is a compliment.>>

<It is a LIZARD...it can't be a compliment> Dean shot back to Ithiel.

"He is not a thing! Without fire lizards there wouldn't be dragons! Fire lizards are what the first ones used to make dragons! He may not be intelligent enough to talk, but he understands mental images, and he can send me mental images. He was my first friend. Ever. And he did warn me S'rance was coming. He's been my protector and savior as well as my friend." Sam glared at Dean. "Why would you think I would name him after you? I don't even know you! I just liked the name. Thought it kind of fit because I had a feeling he was going to be a pain in my ass." He gave Dean a cool look. "Maybe it's a common trait among Deans."

<Just 'how' does he mean that?> Dean asked his dragon.

<<Exactly how you think he means it>> Ithiel smirked.

Dean glowered. "Bitch." Lifting his cup, he took a few deep swallows. If he let himself think of Sam being stalked by that rapist, if he thought about what that man had done to him, he was gonna go fucking nuts, so he tried to put that out of his mind, for the moment.

Deanie hopped onto Sam's shoulder and glared at Dean over the top of Sam's head.

"Stop, that Deanie," Sam scolded.

Deanie's sinuous neck lowered his head until he was eye to eye with Sam. He chirped in an innocent, questioning tone.

"You know very well what I mean. Don't give me that dung you little jerk," Sam said. "Don't irritate Ithiel's rider. I don't care if he was rude and insulting to you. You two will have to learn to get along."

With an indignant petulant chirp, Deanie went between. Sam smirked a little.

"Are you ahhh... you know, happy here?" Dean rubbed his eyes, not even sure how Sam could be, but maybe hoping there was a little good in his life.

Tilting his head, Sam frowned at him. "I hated my life at Ista Hold. It's better here. It would probably be perfect if S'rance wasn't here. I would ask to go to another weyr, but they won't accept the loss of a queen. It's a matter of some pride and envy that there is a young queen here. There have been requests from other weyrs to permit other bronze dragons to come when she rises. With the threadfall though, it may be quite difficult and Ista really wants the first clutch to come from dragons from this weyr."

Dean had started to put things together, and all of that actually made sense. <You better be careful, they're talking about finding Merith a bronze boyfriend from other places.>

<<What is a boyfriend. You speak strangely, Mine.>>

Sam sipped more of the wine. He hadn't eaten and he was feeling the wine begin to go to his head a little. "I would have preferred to go to a hall. Be a harper or historian. I like to read and do research. If I had, I wouldn't have Deanie and certainly wouldn't have Merith. I think Deanie is one of the reasons they found me in the search. I can't imagine being without Merith. I would lose half of myself if I lost her. Before Selina died," Sam paused and chewed on his lip, "we were talking of being together. Having kids. Being normal. Well, at least as normal as the 'she-boy rider of the black dragon' could be."

Complication after complication. How was Sam going to leave his dragon behind? Dean couldn't even dare think about leaving Ithiel, and was doing his best to mask his thoughts. So much of what Sam said echoed of their real past, Dean felt his heart constrict. Down to being forced to be a warrior though his interests lay in books, the desire for a normal life he could never have, and the loss of a woman he loved. His mouth tightened. "You loved her. I'm sorry," he patted Sam's thigh and pulled his hand back, brows furrowing. It was hard for him to understand all the relationships. Sam loved this Selina, but wanted to be with B'tan. He'd said something about shacking up with the guy, and he'd said it wasn't about love.

It was habit, sitting on this particular couch, in this particular room, drinking wine. He leaned against Dean without thinking, though he made no move other than seeking out that comfort of a body next to his. "I wish I could have a normal life. Eventually I'm going to end up 'weyrwoman,' though I guess it's been declared I'll be weyrman. Eventually there will be a new weyrleader and if it is S'rance..." Sam shook his head. "We won't stay. Another weyr will gladly take the young queen and they must promise me S'rance can not follow and Curant will not be permitted to attempt to fly her."

"I don't understand why they don't make him leave, go to another weyr now." Dean put his arm along the back of the couch, behind Sam. He could see he was making Sam tense. "Look, let's forget about him for right now." He could find the answers to his questions elsewhere. "Look at me, are you sure nothing about me is... familiar?" he twisted around, moving closer to Sam. "The way I talk? The moves I used on... that you saw? Anything?"

Sam stared into D'ean's eyes. There almost seemed to be a desperation in them. "I'm sorry D'ean. I...I feel...something...between us. You confuse me," Sam admitted. "You embraced me when I came in. Then indicated no interest in me. Yet when you learned S'rance had taken me you were upset. You kissed me back. You attacked S'rance and then attempted to comfort me. It seemed right, your promise to protect me and keep me safe." Sam gave him a slight smile. "I am a big boy, you know. I can defend myself. S'rance is underhanded though and he has blind-sided me on a handful of occasions. His ruthlessness, his fecking obsession with me, and because he has always held power over me, it seems like I should be stronger and better able to fight him. I feel like a part of me is missing." Looking back into those eyes he shrugged helplessly. "You feel like...like you're part of what's missing. But D'ean, by the first egg, I don't know you. I would swear I have never once laid eyes on you before today."

He'd been afraid Sam would feel nothing, and some part of him had expected to feel sucker punched at a second denial of recognition. Now, as he let his breath out, Dean smiled. Progress. Yeah there was a ways to go, but this was a sign, a good one. "I am interested in you Sam, hella interested. Like a <i>brother</i>... a very good friend." A muscle in his jaw pulsed at the knowledge that Ithiel was giving him distinctly unbrotherly feelings, but he was sure he could fight those. "And I know you can protect yourself, doesn't mean that I won't be your back-up," he poked him in the chest.

Back-up? What did back-up mean? Sam wondered.

Dean stared a while longer in Sam's eyes, so familiar... he'd missed him so fucking much.

<<Hug him and get it over with, he doesn't bite.>>

<I don't want to confuse him.>

<<You're the one who is confused.>>

Dean took a deep breath. "You do know me, Sam. I know it doesn't make sense, and I know you think I'm nuts."

Sam locked his gaze with D'ean's and saw the longing in those green eyes and the sadness. If D'ean longed for him so fecking much, then why did he keep denying he did? Sam's eyes hardened a bit. "I don't need a brother, D'ean. I need a lover."

Pushing himself to his feet, Sam's head spun just a little at getting up so fast and he nearly fell back down onto the couch. He didn't want to go back to his empty weyr. He knew Merith wanted to stay with Ithiel and Ithiel needed her to stay with him. Yes the man was nuts, but then why did he feel like D'ean was familiar?

Sam grabbed the blanket on the nearby chair and began walking unsteadily toward Merith. If D'ean didn't want him, Merith did. He would curl up with Merith, mourn the loss of B'tan, of Selina, and try to forget the nightmares he had of the rape he had experienced and the way S'rance had made him come.

Dean followed, lips pressed into a line. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two dragons nuzzling, and Sam running from him, looking like he was about to fall against the dragons any moment. "You never could hold your liquor. Do you need me to walk you to your... your weyr?"

<<He's sleeping here.>> Ithiel informed his rider.

That was a relief, Dean would rather be able to watch over Sam than have him leave anyway. He'd thought the blanket might be for the cold air outside, if Sam had intended on going on dragonback. "Sam, Ithiel says you're staying. You know there's a bed." He stretched his hand out, "come on, lets get you to bed. It's been... a rough day."

Sam snorted. "Of course I know there's a bed. B'tan and I used to sleep in it," he snapped. "It's your bed now. You use it."

<<You are being petulant, my Impressed,>> Merith told him.

<I can't sleep in that bed alone. I won't.>

<<Ithiel, can you not convince yours that mine needs his company? My Impressed worked hard today loading firestone and fighting thread. He will be sore in the morning, and that will be made even worse if he insists on sleeping on the ledge with me. Does yours not understand my impressed needs companionship? He mourns, he is scared, he is tired, he is confused.>>

Dean had been about to snap right back at Sam when Ithiel interjected, transmitting Merith's message exactly and emphasizing it was the queen's wish that Dean help rather than hinder Sam. Though he didn't give a fuck that it was the queen dragon's request, Dean did give a damn about his brother's feelings, his pain, his suffering. <Thank Merith for telling me what he's going through, sensitivity is not my strong suit.>

<<Yes, we are in agreement.>>

<Bitch.>

<<I am male.>>

Refusing to answer his dragon, Dean reached Sam and closed his arms around him. "Come to bed. You won't be alone, and I know how to help you with your tight muscles. Maybe you'll remember something else when I give you a massage, hmm? Come Sam, I'm sorry I'm confusing you, or hurting you. I swear to God, it is the last thing I want."

<<It would appear more ... sincere... if you swore by the First Egg.>>

<I AM sincere.> Sighing, Dean added, "and by the First Egg"

<<There's nothing to feel foolish over, everyone swears by the First Egg.>>

Sam was debating about where best he could lay down without disturbing Ithiel and Merith. When she was young it hadn't been uncommon for him to join her on the ledge, resting his head on her haunch, scratching her and just giving her loving attention until she fell asleep. In some respects he had done it for himself, to simply be able to love something that no one could take away. To feel her silky scales, to feel the depth of love she felt for him and he felt for her. Deanie would get jealous and Sam would have to scratch his eye ridges until Deanie was satisfied he had gotten his fair share of Sam's attention, then the three of them would fall asleep there. He still did it occasionally, but not really since he and B'tan had been struggling to find the middle ground and make their own relationship work. In part, Sam knew B'tan hoped one day to be weyrleader and in part, B'tan did it because of the love Ithiel had for Merith. For Sam, it was keeping S'rance off his back and also for the sake of his dragon. And he enjoyed the companionship B'tan offered. Both had tried to find that chemistry between themselves, chemistry that did not involve their dragons and while Sam hadn't been sure real love, romantic love, would ever truly develop between them, kinship certainly was. The wine was surely contributing, but B'tan's absense seemed to grow more painful. He should be used to loss and pain he told himself.

Dean's arms closing around him startled him and he froze. He was suddenly back in the hold, his back suffering the lashing and then S'rance was up against him, rubbing against him. Spilling his seed across Sam's back. Sam reacted without thought. His arms weren't bound this time dammit and there was no knife at Selina's throat because she was already dead. He elbowed Dean sharply in the ribs, spun and punched him across the jaw, fury in his eyes.

Merith's head snapped up and away from Ithiel and she reached out with her front leg, pulling Sam back. <<Sshh, beloved. It is not him. It is not him. You are safe. It was D'ean's arms not his. You are safe. D'ean would never hurt you, never do such a thing to you. He loves you.>>

"Mmph." Dean was knocked back a step. Somehow, he kept his temper in check and prevented himself from punching right back and wrestling his brother to the ground. Sometimes that was what it took for them to understand each other, but he sensed this wasn't one of those times. He moved his thumb over the corner of his mouth, tasting blood. "You used to be better with your 'words.'" He shot a glare at the two dragons who'd given him misinformation. "Just a simple 'get away' would have done." He gave Sam a look and decided to leave him on the ledge with the dragons.

Sam blinked, Merith's words reaching through his panic. "Dean?" Sam said, slurring the name into D'ean's non-rider name. He saw Dean's look and Sam took a few steps toward him. "I'm sorry! I didn't...I didn't...it wasn't you. I thought--I was back there, and now I could fight and..." He hadn't cried since Selina had died. He would wake up from his nightmares but that was sweat on his face, not tears. It couldn't be tears because he was a god damned grown man and the rider of a queen dragon and it just couldn't be tears.

But there were tears running down his face now.

He sank to his knees as everything seemed to catch up with him. "Don't leave me, too," he whispered.

In two strides, Dean was lifting Sam up and taking him in his arms again. "Never leave you Sammy, I never would." Liar, you'll leave him when the hellhounds come. Dean pushed the thoughts aside. "Come on, let's get you to bed. I'll take care of you, I always do. Just... if you don't want me to do something, 'tell' me, 'kay?"

Sam clutched at D'ean. "Yeah. Okay. I'm sorry."

<<He didn't mean to hit you.>>

<I know.>

<<You love him.>>

<Course.>

<<Then tell him.>>

Dean guided him to the bed, pushed him down and started to help him take off the boots. "You've had too much to drink, and then... all the rest of this. You need sleep." Without asking permission, he started helping Sam get his clothes off, noticing again how good leather smelled on his brother.

(joint post)

Sam let D'ean do the work. He was still so tied up in knots, and with the wine, he didn't think he would have bothered to undress. He wasn't really sure his fingers would have worked well enough for him to. It felt good to strip out the leather and just have his undershorts on. He rather wished they were back in his weyr and had the hot pool to bathe in, but he was really too tired and he probably wouldn't have bathed before going to bed anyhow. He did his best to help the man get the leather riding gear off but finally decided he was only hindering and let D'ean do it.

He practically collapsed into the bed. Fresh sheets. There were fresh sheets. He was grateful for that, grateful he didn't have to smell B'tan and have yet one more reminder of what he had lost. He rolled so his back was at the edge of the mattress. He didn't think he could handle D'ean behind him. He was already upset and suspected the dreams would be bad anyhow. Having D'ean with his dick pressed against his backside would not help. He watched D'ean, hopeful the man planned on joining him and even more hopeful D'ean would let him wrap his arms around him, hold him close, and fall asleep.

Dean didn't know whether to be offended, perplexed or both. One minute Sam wanted him close, the next he was punching him out for being too close, then begging him not to leave, and now rolling to the other end of the bed as if trying to get away from him. <i>He was raped.</i> Yeah, the confused reactions made sense when he took that into consideration, only he was trying so damned hard to forget that... forget it or he'd be searching every one these damned weyrs until he found S'rance and choked the life out of him.

<<Pern needs Curant. Just help Sam, that will be enough. Love him.>>

<You'd make a great Hallmark card.>

<<What?>>

<You heard me.> Dean stripped off the tunic and loose pants, and was relieved to see he had something very much like shorts on under. Tossing the clothes onto a hook on the wall near the bed, he climbed in.

Sam was relieved when he saw D'ean undressing. Sleeping alone was not something he wanted tonight. He couldn't help but marvel at the man's body. Okay, maybe he wasn't really attracted to men, but man or woman alike would have to appreciate that body. He was almost disappointed when D'ean left his undershorts on. He would really like to see just what was under those clothes.

"Sam, lay down on your stomach. I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear. Just... I'll make you feel good. Ithiel said your muscles are sore."

Chewing over D'ean's words, he finally decided they were innocent. He'd just been admiring the man's body and he was going to get bothered by having that same man behind him? There were no binding ropes here. If he didn't like it, D'ean said all he had to do was tell him to stop. But what did he plan on doing? Shards, yes, he was sore as hell. He usually helped load the firestone and fly threadfall, but they had loaded up twice as many bags as normal because of some problems at one of the other weyrs. They were loading up stone for their own dragons and the other weyrs as well. On top of loading them, he helped pass up the bags to the riders when they came to get re-supplied. He had worked fecking hard.

Slowly, Sam rolled onto his stomach and waited to see what the man had in mind. Even with the wine, he felt his muscles tense in anticipation. If the man even came close to touching ass...

Moving closer, Dean carefully put his hands on Sam's shoulders, and started to rub his tight muscles. This was familiar ground, they'd worked out each others' kinks after difficult hunts and he knew exactly where Sam needed extra pressure, where he liked him to work his fingers to loosen the tight knots, and where he like to just be caressed.

Sam jumped a little as D'ean's hands touched his shoulders. He and B'tan had traded massages, so he relaxed a little when he recognized what D'ean intended. By the egg, this man knew exactly where to work on him, exactly where all the trouble areas were. He couldn't help the small groan of appreciation as D'ean worked out a particularly tough knot, one that B'tan always seemed to have trouble getting. This man got it loosened in just a few beats of a dragon's heart.

"Would be better if we had some of your 'lotion stuff.'" Yeah, he never admitted to stealing the ocasional lotion from the rare motel that would have it in the bathroom.

Lotion? Sam scowled a little. What was lotion? Maybe sweet oil like he put on Deanie's scales? He and B'tan used it sometimes if one of them was really sore. Like he was now. He sent the image to Deanie to retrieve it from the weyr.

Dean worked his way from Sam's shoulders down to his upper arms, feeling him tense, but ignoring it. "Just loosening you up, you'll sleep better, I promise."

Sam couldn't help the sudden clenching of his stomach as D'ean work his fingers deeply into the muscles of his biceps. It wouldn't take much for D'ean to take hold of his arm and ... no, there was no rope here. He tried to tell himself that but Merith's reassuring words only helped a little.

Dean felt Sam shudder under his hands, and frowned as the thought came into his mind, his brother's broad back and slim waist was real sexy. Muttering at himself to stop listening to Ithiel, he continued the massage, moving a little lower.

Deanie popped in from between and dropped the jar on the bed. He perched on the head of the bed, watching as D'ean worked on Sam's muscles. When Deanie heard Sam's soft moan, he chortled in approval.

"Good job," Dean patted the fire lizard's head, and then took the jar. Pouring a bit of the thick liquid over Sam's back, he started rubbing it all over, from shoulder to where his shorts started, warming him up, moving his hands over every inch of exposed skin, including his sides. "Ticklish right here," he announced, letting his middle finger slide into a particular groove between Sam's ribs, then moving on.

Sam jerked and bit back a complaining snort of laughter. How the shards did D'ean know...?

Though he was doing his best, Dean was quickly getting tired and his own injuries were hurting from stretching. "It would be easier if I sat on you. What do you think?" He leaned over and spoke near Sam's ear. "I'd never hurt you Sammy, if you believe anything that I say, believe that." He was trying real hard not to think about, not to demand to know where every last one of these new scars were from. Instinctively, he already knew the answer to that. The past was the past, but the future would not hold one single new scar for Sam, not at the hands of that dragonrider.

<Ithiel,> Sam called to D'ean's dragon, <is D'ean...would he?>

<<Loves you,>> Ithiel responded.

<<Trust him,>> Merith encouraged. <<You want him interested, do you not? He is not S'rance. And when Ithiel flies me, D'ean will fly you, will he not? Would you rather one of the others fly you instead?>>

After a moment longer of consideration he knew Merith was correct. Of all the bronze riders, D'ean was the first one he had ever felt a real connection with and he barely knew the man. The thought of D'ean kissing him sounded more attractive and comforting than he would have expected. He gave a nod. "Yeah, okay. You can. You can ...do anything. Just warn me if...you know, you want to do more than a massage."

"More than a massage, check." Dean held back a snort as he threw his leg over Sam, mounting his ass. "There will be no Xtreme massaging today, just relax, close your eyes, and sleep."

<<What is Xtreme massaging>>

<Mind out of the gutter, it's not what you think.>

<<That's too bad.>>

Leaning forward, hands on Sam's shoulders, Dean started massaging him again. "Ever think the voices in your head are gonna drive you mad?" He wasn't really asking, just wondering if he'd get used to having someone else in his business all the time.

<<You'd miss me.>>

Dean knew Ithiel hadn't said it, but he also meant he was missing B'tan. It was a theme, one that he understood... he understood loss.

"It's a little odd at first," Sam mumbled. "Someone always knowing what you're thinking, but I can't imagine not hearing her voice now. You'll get used to Ithiel."

"So I hear I gotta go to some classes or something and that you're the history and sword fighting teacher. Any way you can just, you know, catch me up on what I need to know, without my having to go to actual classes." As he rattled on, Dean wasn't expecting any responses, he was really just talking out loud and trying like hell to block out the waves of attraction hitting him. Like he really shouldn't be noticing how firm Sam's ass was under his, or how his muscles rippled under his touch, or how soft the hair at the nape of his neck felt. He really shouldn't wonder what would happen if he kissed him there.

Sam was really beginning to get distracted by D'ean's warm hands on his flesh and the way they roamed over his body. The oil softened the touch and even when Dean was working out the tension, kneading hard at some knots, it still felt like an almost intimate caress. B'tan had always been a little hesitant to massage Sam too long, but D'ean seemed to be enjoying it as much as Sam was and it he thought maybe Dean would continue to work at his muscles until he had melted into a little puddle beneath D'ean. He was getting distracted by the way the man rocked forward and back on his ass. His cock, in the meantime, was beginning to get interested.

"Mmm, depends," Sam said, his voice definitely indicating he was relaxing, and that he had certainly had drank some wine. "On what you know. If you know all the ballads and history, then you will only have to take a few classes. Same," Sam groaned as D'ean worked on a sore spot and he felt the knots simply begin to unravel. "with the sword."

<<Ithiel says he wants to kiss the back of you neck.>>

"...you can," Sam murmured to D'ean. "Kiss me, if you want. Won't panic. Promise." He was really beginning to like the idea of D'ean draped across him, the oiled skin between them making their bodies slide across each other effortlessly. His dick liked that idea too.

Turning to look over his shoulder toward the ledge, Dean glared, guessing Ithiel had said something. Dean loudly kissed his own two fingers, then touched them to the side of Sam's neck. "There's your kiss." Even as he said it, Dean's pulse kicked up a notch because it was a different kind of kiss that he was thinking about. "I think everyone here is too preoccupied with sex."

<<You more than most. Every eight seconds.>>

<Shut up.>

Sam was a little disppointed when he felt D'ean's fingers instead of his lips. He twisted his head enough to meet D'ean's eyes. "That wasn't a kiss. He took hold of D'ean's hand and pulled it forward. The sweet oil not only smelled pretty good, it tasted pretty decent too. He kissed Dean's palm, momentarily tongueing that tender sensitive spot right in the middle. He pulled Dean forward more and moved his lips to Dean's wrist, kissing and sucking and nipping.

Dean's mouth went dry. The warm moist press of Sam's tongue against his palm sent heat shooting straight to his cock and had him sucking his breath in. Fuck... not right, not how it was supposed to go. But he wasn't pulling his hand back, and his eyelids dropped, hooding his eyes from Sam's perceptive view as Sam made love to his freakin' wrist.

"Guess you need more than just history lessons," Sam said, smirking at him before giving Dean's wrist a good solid kiss and then letting his hand go.

Stung, Dean momentarily imagined rolling Sam over, covering his mouth with his, and showing him all the ways he could use his tongue to change that smirk he was wearing into a series of groans and moans. And once he moved his mouth down along the side of his brother's throat, he'd have him apologizing for that comment big time.

<<I don't understand, but some code of honor prevents Mine from doing this.>> Ithiel happily showed Merith and Sam the thoughts that his stubborn dragonrider was having.

Sam wondered what that 'code of honor' could possibly be and he really wished D'ean would follow through on his imaginings. He was about to say as much when he felt Dean shift. There was no doubt Ithiel's rider was getting as interested as he was.

"Can't wait to see the rest of the curriculum," Dean bristled, moving his hand and continuing the massage for a little while longer, until the ache between his legs was getting too much to handle. All he needed was a comment from Sam or Ithiel, and they would too!

D'ean's almost agressive massaging stole that suggestion and he closed his eyes, enjoying the massage.

He slipped off Sam, frowning at the needs still sweeping through him. <You're not going to let me sleep, are you?>

<<I didn't say anything>> Ithiel just nuzzled Merith's neck, resting his snout against her.

Feeling D'ean finally get off on him, Sam reached out almost blindly and grabbed D'ean's wrist, pulling him down. He almost reluctantly pushed himself up, not really wanting to disrupt the putty his muscles had become, but he did anyhow. He pushed up just enough so he could kiss Dean lightly on the lips.

"Thanks. That felt great." He smiled a little at the man and could see what he had already felt rubbing against his ass. He chuckled tiredly. "Yeah, me too," he said jerking his chin a little toward D'ean's obvious erection. Collapsing back onto the bed, Sam mumbled. "Privy's back there." He indicated a place behind him on the other side of the curtain. "Or you can lie with me, but you did too good a job on me to help you out." He shut his eyes. "Just come back to sleep with me when you're done."

Mouth burning, cock hard and aching, mind frozen numb by Sam's antics and comments, Dean opened his mouth twice to speak, but nothing came out. He licked his lips, swallowed. "Just when did you get so ... flirty? Worse than the damned dragons," he muttered. As if jacking off was an option... with his luck, Ithiel would announce it to all of the other dragons. Okay, not like this was the biggest of his problems. The bigger problem was that he shouldn't even be getting hard over Sam, shouldn't be wanting to kiss him again, shouldn't be mixing up the love he felt for him, all the heartache from having lost him, with something else.

<<You make things so complicated, Mine. If you would just accept what you want, then there would be no reason to suffer.>>

<I am NOT suffering.> Mouth set in a straight line, Dean made sure there was plenty of room between himself and Sam, though he pulled the covers over his bare back, then closed his eyes.

(Joint post)

[Before Dawn]

Need coiled low in Dean's stomach. He was aware of an arm around his waist, and of the weight of someone's head laying on his chest. Vaguely, he knew it was Sam. Thoughts of that kiss he'd held back swirled in his head, whipping up the desires stirred by the images in his mind. He wanted... needed that kiss, he'd take it. Abruptly, he half sat up, and twisted, pushing Sam down on his back and then lowering himself over him. One of his arms was under Sam, gripping his shoulder, the other running up his abs and side as Dean unerringly found Sam's mouth with his own.

The warmth of D'ean pressed against him, the sheer comfort, had kept all the nightmares he had expected at bay. Maybe it was the massage, maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the strange comfort and protection he found in the stranger's arms but he hadn't slept so very well in such a long long time. When he felt the hand on his shoulder he rolled willingly onto his back.

So soft, so warm, so fucking enticing, Dean wasn't gonna wait. Dean licked the seam of Sam's lips once, before thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Just one stroke of tongue against tongue, and Dean was burning up. He groaned, and shifted his body, pressing his arousal into Sam's hip as he deepened the kiss. Holy fuck... he'd never felt like this, needed like this, wanted like this. "Sam..." he whispered against his brother's lips, then delved his tongue inside again.

There was a moment of almost panic at the mouth covering his own of the tongue forcing it's way in, but he was in bed and the body draped over him, it wasn't S'rance. He knew that, could tell that by the gentle caressing hands, the same hands that had massaged his muscles the night before. D'ean's groan clenched it and he opened his mouth wider, returned the kiss, tangling his tongue with Dean's and wrapping his arms around the man. He felt the hardening cock pressed against him and he pulled Dean closer, tighter to him as his own need grew in leaps and bounds. He wanted D'ean like he had never wanted anyone before. He answered D'ean's groans with his own and when he heard that low voice murmur of his name he felt his heart race.

"D'ean," he whispered back, running his hands up and down that muscular back. His hand went to Dean's ass and he kneaded and squeezed as he pressed himself harder against him.

"Right here," Dean answered, his hand lingering over the top edge of Sam's underbriefs, fingers dipping under, caressing soft sensitive skin, and occasionally brushing against Sam's shaft.

Though Dean was blissfully ignorant of that, Sam wasn't and groaned as D'ean's touch teased him.

Dean rubbed his mouth back and forth against Sam's. "Missed you ... missed you so fucking much Sammy, you don't know," he said, pain and lust coloring his voice as he melded their mouths together in another mind numbing kiss. All he could think about was Sam, how he tasted... so sweet and innocent, how he smelled... familiar, but different.

The words didn't make sense to Sam but he didn't care. He didn't know how D'ean could have missed him but the way D'ean kissed him now. It stole his breath away and he wanted more. He wanted everything. He wanted to devour D'ean and D'ean to devour him.

Needing more, Dean shifted, pushing his knee between Sam's legs, moaning at the proof of Sam's desire. He pulled his hand up, touching, groping Sam's chest, then bringing his hand to the side of Sam's face, using it to make Sam turn this way and that way as his mouth moved hungrily over Sam's. Need, burning in his veins, made it impossible for him to think, to look beyond this moment.

Sam let D'ean guide him, let him kiss him any way he wanted. He ran his fingernails down D'ean's back as he spread his legs. Sliding his hands under Dean's undershorts he rubbed and caressed those tight muscle. "Need you," Sam's panted when D'ean gave him a moment to breathe and arched up against Dean, rubbing against him.

"God... oh God, Sam..." Dean was breathless as he kissed and moved his mouth over Sam's face, his eyes, his ear. He worked his way back around Sam's jaw, sucked his lower lip and pulled away. Just the sight of Sam's swollen lips sent blood rushing straight to his cock. "This is [i[crazy[/i], you know that, right?" he asked, but there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it, he was just too tangled up with lust.

"I don't care," Sam murmured. It was crazy. In the months with B'tan nothing like this had ever happened. He and Selina had made love five times. She was the first one to ever touch him with love. B'tan cared about him, but it just wasn't...it just never quite felt right. This felt so very right.

Dean licked a path down Sam's throat, nipping him, then soothing again. His hands were all over, Sam's shoulders, his arms, his sides, carressing up and down as he left hot trails of kisses down his chest.

Sam loved it, every fecking touch, every scorching kiss. When he and Selina had made love, it had never felt like this, not even close. This went clear through to the core of his being. To be touched like this. He had never hoped for such a thing, never dreamed it could be like this.

Dean's mouth moved over Sam's abs, and he sucked on the taut skin stretched tight over muscle. "So fucking hot Sam." He knew, he knew he should stop, that this wasn't right, but his body wasn't listening.

Groaning, Sam ran his fingers through the short hair of the rider. Oh he wanted that mouth to go lower, he wanted that mouth on his weeping cock, licking and sucking and making him come so hard he saw stars. He tightened his fingers in D'ean's hair and bucked up a little, seeking more pressure as he tried to guide D'ean's hot mouth lower.

The stakes were rising, Dean knew that... was experienced enough to. He should stop, Dean knew that too, knew that Sam's increasingly desperate movements under him meant he was getting near the 'no return' point. He let him push his face lower, he moved his hands to Sam's thighs. Gripping and releasing them, his fingers dug into Sam's powerful thighs, made him wonder what it would feel like to have Sam's legs locked behind his back as they fucked against each other. A groan welled up in his throat, and then his mouth was over Sam's arousal, straining against cotton.

Sam moaned. Yes, by the first egg, yes. He wanted this, wanted this so badly.

Dean kissed him once, twice... and then he fought against every instinct in his body, and pulled up.

Looking down at Sam, he was breathing hard. Staring at his swollen mouth, his lust blown pupils, knowing he was gonna hurt him. Fuck. "Sammy..." Licking his lips, he ran his hand down the center of his brother's body, half caressing, half holding him down. "I'm sorry... I... God..." His chest heaved at he stared into Sam's eyes.

Sam saw the look. Through his lust, through his desire, he saw the look. The look he had seen so many times. The look someone he was interested in gave him before turning away from him. Because of the Lord Holder's son and the threats made.

He shut his eyes. He couldn't bear that look. He couldn't bear being denied what he so desperately wanted. Again. He felt his heart break just a little. He thought he had it. He thought he'd found it. He was wrong.

"S'okay," Sam said and moved to get up. He was done trying. Let S'rance have him. He couldn't stand being alone anymore.

The resignation in Sam's eyes hurt more than if he'd seen anger. Dean grabbed his arm before he slipped off the bed, leaned in and spoke near his ear. "BROTHER." He took a deep breath, still trying to get it under control. "Only reason, only reason we stopped. Brother," he insisted and let him go, pulling the blankets over him to hide his raging erection.

Sam stared at him. What was he fecking talking about? Suddenly the possibility crossed his mind and he realized it would explain a lot. It would explain everything. D'ean must have been fostered out. Must have been at Ista, must be a son of the Lord Holder, must have found Sam attractive. S'rance wanted Sam because D'ean, S'rance's younger brother, had wanted him. Wanted to possess him to make sure his brother couldn't have him. "You bastard," Sam whispered and shoved Dean away. He could barely walk he hurt so badly. He pulled on his clothes.

<Merith, get me out of here.> Sam demanded, not caring she was still half asleep and cuddled up against her love. Sam wouldn't attempt to come between them, wouldn't take from her what she loved like had been taken from him. But he wouldn't be back to Ithiel's weyr. Ever.

Dean let out a sigh. <He can't leave the... weyr... here, right?>

<<Sam goes where he pleases, but he returns. Merith says he hurts. You hurt him.>>

<Tell Merith no one ever died of blue balls.> He ran his hand though his hair, got off the bed, walked right by Sam and into the privy, slamming the door. It wasn't as if he hadn't wanted it, or he'd lead Sam on. Sam knew the dragons' lust was doing this to them, so what the hell? Yeah, he was whipping himself up into a state of anger, only so he wouldn't feel bad... wouldn't remember that look in Sam's eyes. Sonova...

Sam hardly cast a glance at D'ean. He saw the way the man's shorts strained against his arousal and hoped D'ean had trouble whacking off. Serve him right. He jumped up onto Merith bareback. He didn't like to leave the riding harness on her and it was back in their own weyr. He should be helping with the weyrling class, normally he would, but not today. Thread hadn't hit the west coast yet, so he couldn't occupy himself with that distraction. He could go back in time to yesterday and fight thread at another weyr, but he wasn't interested in that either.

<To the creek> Sam told her, showing her the creek where he had always liked walking to. He could pick up some supplies for both healers. He would have Deanie bring him an empty sack. It had always been relaxing and a safe haven for him there and right now he wanted no reminded of the Weyr. He didn't want to remember B'tan with whom maybe he wasn't in love with, but at least B'tan wasn't afraid of S'rance.

<<Are you forgetting D'ean fighting S'rance? I do not think he is afraid of him.>> Merith went between and took them where Sam had wanted.

Sam slid off her back and his boots struck the sandy beach. Damn, even with the cold of between, he still had one massive hard on. He loosened his pants and after spitting into his hand, he wrapped his finger around his shaft. It should have been B'tan doing this...or D'ean. That thought just made him angrier and he jacked himself off hard, trying to forget the taste of D'ean's mouth or those gorgeous green eyes, trying to forget the deep need he had felt. Surely some of it was from the dragons love for each other, but so very much of it was his own desperate need to have have someone to call his own. He had Deanie and Merith but he wanted a human companion. But why bother. S'rance would sabotage that too. He let out with a cry of relief when his seed finally spilled across the sands. He had done that far too often too.

After he recovered, after the tremors left him, he called Deanie to him and asked for an empty sack. Deanie was back in an instant with it. "What would I do without you Deanie?" He ground his teeth a little. "Dee. You don't mind if I call you Dee, do you? I used to when you were little. The gall of that bastard thinking I named you after him."

Deanie didn't seem to mind and glided in lazy spirals in the sun pleased he could bring the sack to Sam.

"After you lay your first clutch and they've hatched, we're leaving Ista," Sam told Merith. "You can come back as often as you want to see Ithiel. He can come to whereever we are when you rise, but his rider stays behind."

<<I am sorry he hurt you>> Merith said, butting her head against Sam and nearly bowling him over.

"I just don't understand," Sam said, and felt the tears he had been holding back begin to slide down his face. He wrapped his arms around Merith's neck and held her close as he sobbed for everything he had lost. Selina. B'tan. And now, someone he had thought he could actually truly love...

* * *

Dying for coffee, Dean left his weyr and was immediately accosted by several people. The first introduced herself as the headwoman, ignored his pleas for java and had him follow her to the storeroom. Within a matter of fifteen minutes, he had an arm full of new clothing, including the leathers favored by dragonriders. He'd no sooner taken the stuff to his weyr, after getting lost in the labrynth-like tunnels, which he'd now marked so that he knew his way around, when someone brought new cups and plates and other shit he didn't really care about.

<I just want coffee>

<<Maybe if you ask for klah...>>

<Whatever.>

"Hey, do you know where I can get klah?" he asked the man, who he'd been informed was a drudge, before the guy left.

"You may order it," he jerked his chin toward the wall, "Or go to the common diningroom."

Dean looked at the wall and shook his head, "I think I'm in Flintstone Hell." He walked over and started to pry at the grooves on the wall when yet another person, somone dressed in a a white tunic, which was apparently the uniform of the candidates, came in and told him he was to meet D'rak at the classrooms. Nodding, he grabbed some of the new clothing and moving behind the cloth curtain that separated the bedroom area, he changed into tighter pants, more like what he was used to, and a shorter shirt. He wanted to tell them all to fuck off, that he needed information about moving from one dimension to another, but he couldn't. He needed to get the lay of the land first. Plus he had responsibilities. He'd taken care of oiling Ithiel, and had been informed he'd need to do it again in the evening.

<I can see the benefits of having a small dragon.>

<<You would hate it. Then you'd never fly Sam.>>

Dean's lips went into a straight line. <You gonna tell me where he is?>

<<He does not wish to be found.>>

Dean strode out of the room.

Before getting to the classroom, he managed to find the common diningroom and helped himself to the klah. It was bitter, but very much like coffee. He downed one mug right there, and carried a second one with him. <Don't they have drinks 'to go' here> He'd noticed the strange looks he was getting.

Then it was hours on end, a one on one with D'rak, and then some harper dudes, and K'tol had come to check in on him too. When he demanded to know whether he was to have any free time, they told him they didn't have a lot of free time, it was only because there was no threadfall today that they could spend all of their time with him.

Several more times, he'd asked Ithiel, and other dragonriders and those assigned to teach him things, where Sam was today. No one had an answer for him, and he knew it was because Sam had instructed everyone to keep his damned location a secret.

<<Mine worries about yours>> Ithiel mentally messaged Merith. <<His eyes search everywhere he goes, his thoughts are always on Sam. I wish to ease his mind.>>

Merith looked down the creek bed that Sam had waded up a few hours ago. Deanie was keeping him company and he was trying hard not to dwell on things but all his thoughts were bleak and the sadness and pain and lonliness washed from him in waves. She tried to soothe him, to reassure him, but even her feelings of utter devotion and love did not ease his pain.

<<My Impressed hurts deeply. He has said after the first clutch of eggs I lay hatches, that we will leave Ista. I can visit you as often as I want and of course he expects you to fly me the next time I mate, but yours is not welcome to come with you. If not for me, if not for Deanie, I think mine would go between. He was deeply saddened when Selina went between. He was saddened by the loss of your First. But he is...broken by the refusal of your New to love him. He feels betrayed and hurt in a way I do not fully understand. He has even thought about going to Curant's impressed and staying with him. I will try to dissuade him from such foolishness.

You may tell yours that we will return soon. Mine is gathering herbs. Mine is hungry. I am hungry. My skin itches. We should be there soon after dinner starts.>>

<<I will tell him. If yours goes to Curant's impressed... I think someone will go between, I don't know who. Do what you can.>> Ithiel tried his wings, felt the stiffness and settled back down on his ledge. He felt Merith would not wait too long, and it was all but a certainty he would not be able to fly her. It was disappointing, it had been both his and B'tan's desire to be the first to fly Merith.

* * *

(Joint post)

Dean had gone to the barber for a shave. When he'd asked for a razor, he'd had blank looks and then been given a knife. He supposed he could get used to it, but his first attempt has been unpleasant so he'd gone to a 'professional.' Hell if they were available, why not?

Once Ithiel told him what he'd learned from Merith, he'd stopped worrying as much about Sam, though he couldn't say he was real pleased with his brother. Still, when he entered the dining hall, Sam was the only person he was looking for. His gaze went down the long tables lined with the folk who lived at the weyr.

He saw the table where weyrleader K'tol sat with the weyrwoman, and some seasoned bronze riders, but Sam wasn't with them. Scanning the room, he made sure to know where that fucker, S'rance was, their gazes clashing for a moment. That guy was not used to people who didn't back down, that much Dean could tell.

Finally, he spotted Sam sitting alone on one side of a table. The other end was occupied by a few people but he didn't appear to be with them. Seeing that people could fill up their own trays at cafeteria like stations, Dean went and grabbed some food, some of which he didn't recognize. Then, carrying his tray, he walked right for Sam's table.

<<Don't forget to be respectful and ask permission, Mine. Sam is one of the leadership.>>

Using his foot, Dean pulled the chair across from Sam's out, set the tray down and sat. "Someone told me the wall unit in my weyr will bring me food and klah. I really could use your help figuring it out. I mean, I ask anyone, they'll think I'm nuts. You already know this," he shrugged, and gave a warm smile, though he was searching Sam's face for signs of his mood.

Although Sam hadn't actually eaten in a little over a day other that some fruit he found along the creek, he still wasn't all that hungry and was only picking at it. When he'd entered the dininghall it was a little late but his place by the werywoman was open. He had given her a small shake of the head to indicate he wanted to eat elsewhere. She gave a nod, Tanith having told her brief details that Sam was distressed over B'tan's death and had had some issues with Ithiel's new rider D'ean. He had chosen a table where S'rance would have to turn around if he wanted to watch Sam. For all the thoughts of just going to S'rance, when he actually saw the man's lustful staring, his stomach twisted. No, he wouldn't, couldn't do that.

Sam looked up from his meal when the chair across from him moved and for a moment expected to see the young smiling face of B'tan. Instead it was Ithiel's rider. He set his fork down.

"I don't understand you. One minute you're all for getting together, the next you back off. You defend me against your brother, then we're well on our way to enjoying each other, and suddenly you refuse to have sex with me because of him," his voice was bitter and his eyes cool. He kept his tone down. He didn't know how soon Merith was going to rise and he wasn't above claiming he had a relationship with D'ean to keep S'rance off his back, even if it wasn't true. He scowled. "And I don't know what you mean by wall unit. You mean the grooves? You just say what you want. The grooves carry your voice to the kitchen and it's brought up."

"Grooves... okay." He sat back. "You always treat everyone who refuses to have sex with you like this, or is it only me?"

Sam's eyes stayed frigid.

<<Do not antagonize him.>>

"I get it, you're pissed at the... you know, start and stop action, but I think this here... it's an overreaction." Dean let out a breath. "Look, I'm confused too, all right? Half the time, I don't know what you're fucking talking about. Like right now, what other brother? And if you mean that fucker S'rance, don't even say it because I will punch you. I don't know what happened in that bed... the dragons? I'm not used to this, not knowing what's me, and what isn't... and you probably don't know what the hell I'm talking about."

<How am I doing>

<<I've seen better>>

"I'm over reacting?" Sam hissed at him. "You told me you stopped because of your brother. Is there some other brother around here in love with me that you don't want to challenge? You say you know me. Then it must mean you grew up in Ista. I don't remember you. That means you weren't one of us drudges and you must have been nobility. That means you're S'rance's brother and it explains why S'rance is so damned hot to get his fecking hands on me because he won't let anyone have anything they really want.

"I told you, he's not my fucking brother, Goddammit! When he walked into my weyr... that's the first time I ever saw him--"

"What happened in that bed? Well I sure thought it was something special. I understand that you are still getting used to feeling Ithiel. D'ean, think about it. I've been--I'd been with B'tan for four months. I told you we slept together but never had sex. Don't you think if the dragons's emotions were the driving force, that B'tan and I would not have been able to keep our hands off each other? They're in love, so yeah, it makes it better, deeper, at least so I've heard. I wouldn't know. Do I treat anyone I've had sex with like this? Like what? I don't have sex with anyone. I'm alone. I've always been alone because S'rance would never let me have anyone. Even here. He took Selina away. If B'tan wasn't a rider, I'm sure he would have killed him, too. He tried to drive B'tan to a challenge a couple times, but B'tan was too fecking smart for that. S'rance is one of the best swordsmen in the Weyr."

Sam pushed his food tray away and stood. He leaned across the table and close to the man. "You started it. You kissed me. You wanted it. I wanted it. Not Ithiel or Merith, but they're in love and they feel what we feel. Their loved mirrored what was happening for us. It made it stronger for us." Sam shook his head. "For the first time in this damned life I thought I had finally found someone who loved me, who could love me, and who I could love back. I've never felt so safe, so fecking protected as I feel around you. I have never had the sort of connection I seem to have with you, but I will not be toyed with. That bastard does enough to make my life miserable. He doesn't need any fecking help from you."

Dean tried to hold onto his temper at being compared to a psycho rapist. He did hang onto it, but only because Sam was spinning out of control and the last thing he wanted to do was push him completely away. Hands gripping the side of the table, knuckles turning white, he looked up at Sam, let him continue to vent. If that's what he needed, then fine.

"Nimara won't fly Merith, K'tol has Leyla and Nimara will stay with Tanith when Merith rises. Four of the bronzes are older. They may try, but I doubt they'll have the stamina to keep up. Ithiel can't fly. That leaves Curant, Tarnak, Meteron, and Rashaan. Tarnak is A'derash's. He won't go up against S'rance. F'sarn would but Meteron is barely larger than a brown and Dielle's Rashaan is young. Curant is the largest and worse, S'rance wants me so badly he's killed to make sure no one else touches me. Tybel is a large brown and his rider Corin would like to have me but a brown," Sam shook his head, "he just won't be able to keep up with Merith. So when Curant flies Merith he will have me. When dragons mate, that's the only time that a dragon's emotions control their rider's. So don't you damned well blame Merith and Ithiel for what happened in that bed. You're just too fecking scared to be with me." Sam finally straightened and his anger faded from his eyes. "And I guess I can't blame you for that. Everyone is."

Every explanation Dean mentally came up with seemed inadequate, at least for Sam with this history that had been instilled in him. Brothers - he couldn't explain, couldn't make him believe, not until they'd maybe formed some sort of trust between them. Clearly there was none yet. "I've never been with a guy, not ever. I've never kissed one." His jaw pulsed, but he managed not to add anything about incest and baby brothers and how fucked up it was that contrary to what Sam was telling him, the dragons were messing with his feelings... had to be. "So why don't you just give me a fucking break while I try to deal with... with that, and figure it out? He grasped Sam's wrist, looked toward the chair, then let him go. "We don't have to have sex for me to protect you... I'd do it even if you walked away and hated my guts. And I'm not afraid of that guy. So if you think you've got me figured, you're wrong."

<How the hell do I challenge S'rance, and what exactly does that mean?>

<<No, you can't do that, Mine. It's dangerous. You'll give him a legitimate way to hurt you.>>

<I didn't ask for an opinion. Ithiel, how?> He was going to fucking challenge the guy right here, right now, and take care of two problems. Get him off Sam's back, and show his brother he was not afraid of S'rance.

After a moment, Sam sat back down. "Challenge requires a rider's honor has been put into question. It doesn't have to be to the death, but with S'rance, I guarantee it will be."

Sam shook his head at D'ean's obvious annoyance. "Ithiel told Merith what you intend. Don't. If you even try, I will go to him. Ithiel cannot lose another rider. He barely stayed this time. If Ithiel goes between, Merith will be lost and may even follow him. All hope rests on her. For Pern, I will do whatever is necessary to protect Merith. Even being S'rance's whore. And if you kill S'rance, Pern loses a bronze. We cannot afford that."

"You guaranty he'd win... you don't even know--" Dean bit his tongue. He was getting pissed off again, not just at Sam's lack of faith, but at the blackmail. Sonovabitch, this wasn't something he'd expected, the heat in his eyes said as much.

Sam stared down at the table a moment before looking back up to meet D'ean's gaze. "All right. I'll give you your chance to adjust. It took me time too and it isn't fair to expect you to want to turn to a man when you can have your choice of women. I want to have a relationship and no woman has ever impressed a male dragon. With S'rance around, I dare not take to bed anyone who is not a rider. That leaves me one choice. It does not leave you one choice. You are welcome to develop a relationship with a woman, so long as you keep a relationship with me. Besides, I don't know how much longer Tanith will rise. As soon as she fails to rise, whoever flies Merith, their rider is weyrleader. That will drive any bronze rider to try. Riders from other weyrs may even try if they are given enough warning and can get here, regardless that K'tol wants this first clutch to be Ista pure."

More complications. This world... it's destiny, so wrapped up in the dragons, and their mating, and now both he and Sam had acquired dragons... how the fuck were they going to untangle this mess.

<<I'm the one who acquired you, you just stood there.>> Dean could hear the smugness in his dragon's mental thought, it was even said in a tone that sounded like Dean.

Reaching across the table, Sam covered D'ean's hand with his own. "I have only had sex with a man the one time S'rance took me. Do not...kiss me with such passion if you cannot take the next step." He ran his thumb over Dean's wrist. "I wanted you so badly. I needed you so badly. When you denied me because you are brother to someone, if not S'rance, then who?"

Dean looked down at his hand as Sam spoke, remembering how badly he'd needed Sam too. But he put that down to the dragons, whereas Sam didn't. He looked back up, and let out a breath as he squeezed his brother's hand, wishing he could take his pain away. "I didn't mean to kiss you... it just happened," he shrugged. "I thought it was the dragons, I don't know. I'll try to keep away from you mouth," he grinned, "if you... you know, cooperate and keep yours away from mine."

Sam nearly bit his tongue. He didn't want to not kiss Dean. But he would try.

Pulling his hand back, he picked up his fork. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about the brother thing, it'll just make you think I'm even more crazy. What are these?" He pointed with his fork, hoping his overly-emotional brother had calmed down.

<<Sam cannot help himself, Merith is on edge.>>

"Tubers." Sam studied D'ean for a minute and gave a soft sigh. Any child should know what tubers were. But D'ean didn't. Such a strange man. He identified each item each on their plates.

<Ithiel, have you a clue who this brother is?> Sam asked D'ean's dragon. He wanted to know what was holding the man back. No matter that D'ean denied it, D'ean wanted him as much as he wanted D'ean. He could feel that. He tried to sort through the man's comments. He had missed Sam, he said. He couldn't remember what the names of different foods were called but he knew Sam. It was baffling and made Sam's head hurt. He wasn't thinking very clearly to begin with. Not very clearly at all.

"Tubers... course." Dean tentatively took a bite, a smile spreading over his face as he realized how much like potatoes they tasted. He stuck his fork in a couple other things which he found passable, but the meat was good. He dipped it in some sauce, took a bite, then wiped his mouth with his thumb, noticing that Sam was looking at him. Had he eaten something the wrong way?

Sam couldn't help but stare at the sauce on D'ean's lips and then the way he wiped it away, his cock was perking up with hope.

<<He sometimes thinks of you as his brother but othertimes says you are 'like' a brother. He baffles me too, but he is not confused or crazed. Just... different.>>

"Shouldn't you be eating?" Dean asked. "And you can tell me what people do for fun around here."

"I ate enough. Not really hungry," Sam said. He ought to be starving. He did eat a good half of what was on his plate, but he really shouldn't leave food. Reluctantly he pulled the plate back in front of him and poked at it half-heartedly. He had been so upset all day and really, though he was glad he and D'ean had reached something of an understanding. He had probably over-reacted this morning, it had just hurt, and hurt deeply, but it wasn't fair at all to expect D'ean to just jump right into this. With D'ean being a new rider, and Ithiel being a full grown dragon in love, maybe Ithiel was effecting him more than Sam realized.

"Fun?" Sam asked. "The harper will probably play soon. Sometimes there's some dancing. We have a festival twice a year, and once's coming up soon."

"Festivals... yay." His tone was less than festive. "How about bars? You know somewhere they serve beer... wine, people, or ah... is there gambling? Anything to watch? Like ... plays." God, let there be television. "Or ah... what do we do after dinner?"

"Festival time is wonderful," Sam said, remembering the past couple festivals with fondness. Such bright banners and people drinking and eating and it was a lot of fun. "Bars? Beer?" Sam shook his head not recognizing the words. "You want some wine? Anyone from the kitchen will bring you some. Or fermented cider. There's probably some of that. It'll get restocked with festival. Gambling? Yeah, you can probably find a game going on, usually over near the pillars. That's about six hallways over from your weyr. I can take you there. They're probably tossing bones, or maybe knives. Usually there's some swordfighting, but you have to be careful. K'tol won't put up with any blood being drawn. Every rider is needed. I don't think there are any plays planned. Might be one in a couple weeks. I'll ask. Everyone is pretty worn out scorching thread when they do the dragon aid shift, pretty much flying all day. Today has been a day of relaxation. Tomorrow threadfall comes, but we just have to protect our weyr. Tomorrow night things will get wound up. Everyone will be fairly rested after a few hours and by dinner time, it'll probably get festive in here."

"Huh." Some of that sounded like it could be fun, but he just wasn't sure. He broke off apiece of bread, and soaked it in sauce, finishing his plate off. He was about to ask a question, when his gaze shifted suddenly and turned cool. S'rance had stood up and was looking over toward them with an angry expression on his face.

<Tell his dragon I think he's a jerk. No, make that an ass.>

<<It would be best not to needle him.>>

<It would be best if he challenged me and we got this shit out of the way.> A muscle pulsed in his cheek as he glared unflinchingly at the rider who'd dared touch Sam.

Seeing S'rance get to his feet and head their way, Sam scowled. He did not want this happening. He had no idea if Dean could even use a sword. He could best S'rance and he knew it, though he had kept his full skill with a sword hidden. B'tan had known. They had practiced often in part because Sam was afraid there would come a time B'tan would not be able to back down and would be forced to fight S'rance.

Sam stood and grabbed D'ean by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. "C'mon. It's time we leave. I don't want you two fighting."

For a long moment, Dean refused to budge, merely staring at S'rance, daring him. Then cursing under his breath, he followed Sam. "I really miss the days when you trusted me with this kind of thing," he grumbled. "I'm not letting some two bit rider beat me at... at anything."

They walked out of the cavern that was the dining room and into a tunnel. "You wanna go outside some place?" Dean was sick of being inside. "Maybe take something to drink, what did you say, fermented cider?" That had to be like ale. He saw Sam stumble, and reached out to grab him. "You alright?"

Sam felt his world all but spin. He felt like he was Merith as she flew into the darkness.

<< Let them try to catch me in the night skies!>> She bugled a challenge. She had blooded her kill while the bronzes had eaten earlier. Merith and Sam had been away and they hadn't scented her. She had dropped Sam off and then went to drink from the kills she would need.

"You sneaky little bitch, dragons don't rise at night," Sam murmured, but feeling her delight he laughed. He pulled D'ean back toward the dining hall, a grin on his face. "Merith rises. Catch us now if you can!"

"Did you just call me a bitch? Sam? What the fuck?" Dean's arm was practically tugged out of its socked as he was pulled along.

K'tol sprang to his feet. It was unheard of, a gold to rise at night.

<<Perhaps this helps explain why she is black. Pern needs strong dragons and only the strongest will catch her, will even find her. And all of us ate rather well before she had returned.>>

"Get them to the flightroom!" K'tol thundered, quieting the murmurs and exclamations at Sam's announcement.

Leyla went to Sam's side. She smiled a bit sadly at D'ean. "Your Ithiel cannot fly. You cannot be part of this. I will take him to the flightroom. You may wish to go to Ithiel to ensure he tries nothing foolish and injurs himself further."

"The what?" Dean shrugged her off, "I'm going." There was a finality in his words.

As they headed out the door, and up the stairs, Dean noticed some other riders, the bronze and brown riders staring at Sam, their eyes full of lust. "Keep walking," he said gruffly, pushing Sam. He turned to Sam and noticed Sam's eyes were glazed, his face was flushed. "You alright, Sammy?"

Leyla walked with them, her long legs helping her to keep up. "He is with Merith, D'ean. He can't hear you."

K'tol herded the bronze and brown riders after them. He cursed that they wouldn't be able to see the chase, see who might win. They wouldn't know until the dragon's rider took Sam.

She took Sam's arm and guided him to the tunnel that led to the flight room, trying to hurry them along. Who knew how soon one of the dragons would catch up to Merith. They needed to be in the flight room, a large cavern that overlooked the cliffs from where the flight could be watched during daytime, at least. When they finally reached the room, she pushed Sam inside and at the same time pushed D'ean back.

"I told you, you cannot be part of this."

"Part of what... I don't understand?" He looked into the room and saw just a few men. Outside, a crowd was gathering, but again, only a few were walking through the door.

<<Merith has risen. Only the riders of those who seek to fly her may be in the flight room with Sam>>

<He needs me.>

<<He does not see you. Just as Merith no longer ... thinks of me>>

Dean leaned against the wall, close enough to the door that he could look in as soon as anything happened, but mentally he was soothing his dragon, just like Leyla told him. Who the fuck ever thought he'd be giving love advice to a dragon? Telling him his wings would get fixed and next time, there was no question who would fly Merith.

W'tal stumbled against Dean, his chest rising and falling, breathing as if he'd run a mile. He barely appologized, but walked inside. His eyes rolled up as he was one with his dragon, Toth.

Shaking his head, Dean poked his head in.

Toth flew through the night air, wings spread wide, beating fast... chasing the black queen. <<Come my lovely, let me catch you. We will fall together like no others before us.>>

Groaning, W'tal took a step toward Sam, his hand touching Sam's shoulder, then sliding down his arm.

He thought Sam would knock that guy's hand back, instead Dean saw Sam lick his lips, like he was flirting or wanting it. He cocked his head, trying to call the feeling stirring inside 'surprise.' He was so wrapped up in watching the developments inside, he barely noticed when S'rance stormed in and took up a position against a wall.

Merith dove suddenly flying down, down, down, until she flew past the browns, and even the weyrleader's Nimara, taunting them to chase after her. With a great sweep of her wings she climbed high again, hearing the uproar she left in her wake and delighting in it. She wove through the bronzes, brushing by one and then another. <<Catch me, catch me, catch me if you can!>> she sang to them.

Dean then saw another rider, someone he didn't know, approach Sam. The guy put his arm around Sam's waist and whispered something hotly in his ear. Sam nuzzled his throat for a moment, then pushed him away, but Dean could see the lust in Sam's eyes.

What the fuck... what the hell? Keeping an eye on the men and soothing Ithiel, telling him he could fly Merith the next time, took all of Dean's concentration. He started noticing woman circling near the door, just light him. One of them was a candidate who'd been assigned to show him some of the ropers earlier. Knowing his 'ignorance,' as she'd called it earlier, she explained that they were waiting for the end of the flight, hoping that a rider would choose them to slake their lust on. Someone called them 'flight moths.'

"Huh," was all Dean managed to say, this whole thing getting more and more uncomfortable for him. It might have been interesting if it wasn't Sammy standing there, with all the men looking at him like he was a slice of cherry pie. Once the flight was over, Dean would have to pull him out of there, maybe help him jack off if that was necessary. Course Sam could choose one of the women, the flight moths, that would make sense. He tried not to let that bother him, it didn't bother him.

Merith pumped her wings harder, flying higher and faster. Those able to keep up with her were dwindling. Tybel the brown had surprisingly outlasted two of the older bronze, but he just didn't have the speed he needed. Her taunts had even brought out Nimara to chase her. Nimara rose hard and fast after her, but the younger bronzes were more anxious and determined to have her. Even so, Nimara flew high, gaining on Merith when A'derash'sTarnak went belly to belly against him. They both tumbled back, uninjured but forced to wheel around. This was the climb that would determine who took her. Meteron began to struggle and finally had to fall away. Rashaan and Curant kept pace even though Rashaan was a bit smaller. Curant nipped at Rashaan's haunch startling him just long enough for Curant to shoot up and past him.

Dean's features hardened when he saw S'rance undo his shirt and start to approach Sam, his body language openly aggressive. The guy licked his lips, and looked at Sam as if he owned him, then wrapped his hand around Sam's arm as he stood directly in from of him. His raging hard on was there, straining against leather pants, and then he stepped closer. "Sonova..." Dean took a step to walk inside, and firm hands gripped his arm. Seething, he pushed the owner of the hands back

<<Calm down, this is our way. You don't understand but you won't be allowed to interfere. I don't want you hurt.>> Ithiel did his best, but other riders and weyrfolk had realized Dean was getting agitated, and men were being sent to subdue him if necessary.

Merith felt the talons all but dig into her back and wings wrap around her as Curant's neck twined about hers and then his jaws closed high on her throat holding her firmly.

<<Mine. As you should be. As you will always be,>> Curant declared triumphantly and mounted her immediately, burying himself deeply as they began the long fall to the ground.

S'rance's hard arms closed around Sam, pulling him up hard against him. "Mine. I win."

Dragon bugles announced that Merith was caught by Curant.

The dragon riders whose dragons had not caught Merith stumbled out, looking feverish, grasping at whoever wished to offer themselves up.

"Sam?" Dean watched in confusion as S'rance started pushing Sam back, and Sam didn't fight, seemed to fucking welcome it even when S'rance swooped down and took his mouth in a savage kiss that had to hurt. Then he saw them reach a door in the back of the flightroom, and when it opened, he got a look at the bed.

"Sam," he shouted, thinking Sam looked at him for a fraction of a second, before he was shoved into the room. He didn't see, but heard a slap, and that was it. Dean pushed past, got a few feet into the flightroom before more pairs of hands than he could count grabbed him roughly.

He fought, and kicked, and bit, and heard them saying things like he had to accept his chosen would be with another this night, that Sam wouldn't have it any other way, that this was how it is. By the time he was carried and thrown into his own weyr, he tasted blood in his mouth.

K'tol walked in, said a few things, and that there would be a further explanation in tomorrow's lessons and that he was to rest. After he walked out, Dean pulled the door open, only to find it was guarded.

"Sonovabitch."

<<Come mine, let us comfort each other. I too am saddened. Merith should have been mine.>>

Angry tears slipped down Dean's face as he went to the ledge. The thought of flying... getting to the flight room from another place occurred to him, but he'd been cautioned that Ithiel's wings could be damaged beyond repair. <He could have walked out. That guy raped him and he's with him again. All that talk about wanting to be protected, he ... he fucking walked into that room on his own two legs.>

<<Curant won Merith, S'rance won Sam, it is as it has to be.>>

"No, no Goddamit, it isn't. It isn't."

* * *

(Joint post)

Sam woke slowly, a headache pounding ferociously. He hurt. Everywhere. A weight was on top of him and his first thought was of B'tan, but no B'tan was dead and this was far too heavy a body. His mouth was gagged and his arms were bound and pulled over head. Sam kneed the man on top of him. S'rance. The bastard.

<<Curant won me,>> Merith said.

Sam could tell she too was hurt. <How bad are you hurt?> Sam demanded.

<<Nothing beyond repair. He mates roughly.>>

When S'rance didn't move off him he kneed the man harder. Sam focused and touched Curant with his thoughts. <Tell your rider to get his fat ass off me.>

S'rance was brought out of his slumber by his dragon, but the instant he felt the movements under him, he was gripped by lust again. All night long it had been like that, he'd fall asleep, Sam would move and he'd take him again and again. Raising his head, he brought his mouth down over already bruised, swollen and cut lips, crushing his mouth over Sam's as he lifted his body slightly and aligned his hardening cock. "Be still, or it will be worse," he snarled, rough hands groping Samuel as he moved his hips, trying to get hard faster.

With the gag in his mouth Sam couldn't yell, but he had Merith and S'rance seemed to forget that.

<Merith, get this fecking bastard off me! Tell Curant to control his rider and get Nimara and Tanith. I want out of here. If they can't get down here fast enough then get D'ean. He'll rip this bastard's balls off and shove them down his throat!> Sam wasn't really thinking clearly and he knew it but he damned well wasn't going to standby and let S'rance rape him again. Sam kicked at him violently.

Despite Curant's warnings that Nimara had been told and that hers and Tanith's were on their way, S'rance slapped and pinched Sam, then forced his legs open wider, excited by the violence. His mind was a haze of lust, rivaling that during the mating flight. "You came before, you came all night, you're going to come again," he snarled, "come for me... I'll show you this is all a front... drudge." He knew Sam's shame, and used it against him.

S'rance never heard the door open behind him. Never knew whose hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulled his head back and slammed a heavy fist into his jaw. Nor did he realize who punched him repeatedly in the kidneys as his hands slipped off Sam, relinquishing him. His shout of pain was followed by another. He needed clothes, needed a weapon, but found his face rammed against the stone wall. Just as he was pushing away from it, several people walked in and dragged him out of the room.

Sam watched Ithiel's rider pound on S'rance and smiled grimly. He was no drudge anymore. He was not friendless and he held power. S'rance had him for the mating, he had no choice in that, but if S'rance tried to touch him again, he would challenge the man himself. Curant would never fly his Merith again. Never.

By the time the door closed, Dean was still seeing red. Then he got a better look at his brother, and his world went black. A few long strides had him on the mattress, using his knife to untie Sam. His gaze missed nothing, the raised welts on his body from the heavy belt on the ground next to the mattress, the bruises, the blood, the cut lips. His breaths were harsh and heavy as he sat next to Sam, untying the gag and dropping it from nerveless fingers.

<How could he have chosen this?> A sob broke from him even as he gathered Sam close, holding his head against his chest, holding him maybe too tight, using him to control his anger. He wanted to shout and rail and rant, but he merely stroked his hair, waiting for him to speak.

Sam accepted D'ean's embrace gratefully, biting back the moan of pain from the intensity with which the man clutched at him. He accepted the comfort for a few minutes, letting his heart stop its pounding in his chest, letting his breathing return to something near normal.

<Ithiel says D'ean thinks you chose this,> Merith said.

Sam shut his eyes and hugged D'ean to him tightly, then pulled back. "Thank you. For making sure Ithiel didn't try to fly and end up hurting himself, for coming for me." Sam tried to smirk but winced as it pulled at one of his wounds. "For beating him near senseless. Please get me back to my weyr. Merith needs tending." He ran his hand along one of Dean's musclar arms. "It isn't a choice, D'ean. I am a queen's rider. When Merith rises to mate, I mate as well, with the rider of whoever wins her. I can't control it. I'm...one with Merith at that point. I wasn't really aware of having sex with S'rance last night. I didn't even know who won Merith, not until I woke up. I hope," Sam said trying to smile, "that next time Merith rises you might get to find that out. Now help me up."

Dean didn't trust himself to speak yet, so he didn't. Helping Sam out of bed, he brought his pants over and helped get them on. Without talking about it, they both decided that he didn't need to cover up his chest. Dean took the remainder of his clothes, almost unconsciously kicking S'rance's shit under the bed, then putting his arm around Sam's waist. "I'm having Ithiel call a healer."

It hurt to even move to dress, but Sam wasn't going to walk down the corridor naked. The bastard's cum was still dribbling out of his ass. Or maybe it was blood. Maybe it was both. He was grateful for Dean's aid getting to his feet. He wasn't really sure he could have managed on his own.

They took a couple of steps and Dean saw how Sam was limping. As soon as they were in the wider hall, he twisted around and picked Sam up, taking him practically over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "So... this ... they allow this[i]. They want this to happen?" he practically ground out as they walked past the weyrleader who'd stopped him last night.

<<The healer will meet you at Sam's weyr. They'll fix him, Mine. Then he'll be yours again.>>

"Put me down!" Sam protested through his raw throat. "I won't be hauled around like a sack of flour!"

K'tol looked at the condition Sam was in and his jaw tightened. His hands fisted at Dean's words. Falling into step beside them, K'tol said quietly, "Never has a rider so abused the queen's rider. In the flight room though, it is as it must be. The longer the dragons mate, the longer the riders mate, it bodes well for a large clutch of eggs. And we desperately need that. I am sorry, but no discipline can be issued for what was done in the flight room. And neither of you can mete out discipline or challenge him on this account. The punishment is grave for such a thing."

Dean was literally seething, and if he hadn't had Sam on his shoulder, he would have punched K'tol's lights out. "This is [i]your fault. You know S'rance... and he was in a room, with a fucking belt, and rope... and no one to supervise to... You let this happen. So go on, justify it in your own mind how this is okay, someone getting tied up and unable to protect themselves is just fine, and a challenge isn't."

<<Calm down. Samuel is alive, he just needs you, not your anger, not any more fighting.>>

"Where the fuck is your weyr," Dean suddenly asked, realizing he had no idea where he was going.

"I don't know, all I can see is your ass," Sam snapped.

"It is this way," K'tol said, leading D'ean up the stairs and through the handfuls of twists and turns. "Tend to Sam. We will talk on this later. Threadfall is two hours off so I will seek you out tonight.

Dean didn't deign to answer.

"You are a stranger to our ways, D'ean," K'tol's voice grew suddenly hard, "but they are our ways. You will honor them or be banished. If that happens, there may well be none but Curant able to fly Merith. Eventualy Tanith will cease to ride and the new weyrleader will be chosen based upon who flies Merith. Weyrleader and weyrwoman share their beds. Without Ithiel to fly Merith, Sam may well have no choice."

"Wanna bet," Sam murmured thoroughly irritated he was still on Dean's shoulder, but at the same time, he wasn't certain he would have been able to make it all the way to his weyr.

"When hell freezes over," Dean ground out at the same time. They reached a doorway at the same time as a woman in healer garb appeared and pushed the door open for them.

Inside, Dean saw how much larger Sam's weyr was, and it seemed to have not only a livingroom area but two additional interior doors which he knew had to lead to a bedroom and privy. Merith was on the ledge, looking in and keening. Instinctively Dean set Sam down near the dragon, but kept his grip on him so he could bear Sam's weight.

Sam ran his hands over Merith, looking at the scales that were scraped around her throat, on her back and haunches.

<Never have I heard of bronze taking a queen in such a way,> Sam thought to her. <I will get the oil and smooth it over the scrapes.>

<<You will let the healer and Ithiel's rider tend to you,>> she scolded him. <<These are nothing.>>

<You are bruised beneath those marks!>

<<I told you, I am fine. I will soak in the lake. I will polish my scales in the sand. Now go to the others,>> she ordered him.

The healer started setting up next to the sofa and K'tol gave them one last look before leaving and pulling the door shut after him. Nimara told him of the roughness of Curant's mating. Was the rider like the dragon or the dragon like his rider? Or a bit of both? He would speak to S'rance. What happened in the flight room he may not be able to discipline, but a discussion of the roughness on both rider and dragon's part had to be addressed. If Merith had been injured beyond the bruising...that was utterly unacceptable. And injuring a rider so they were unable to fight thread...equally unacceptable. Still, he could do nothing but council. It would not happen again. D'ean had been right about supervision, but he never expected such a thing in the flight room, no matter what had transpired in the past.

Once Sam had a moment with Merith, Dean helped him to the sofa. "He needs to be washed but ..."

The healer nodded and started clucking over Sam. "I've only seen such brutality one other time," her gaze met Sam's, then she started to help him take his pants off.

The more Dean saw, the angrier he got. "Can I..." he pointed at the wooden chest he recognized, and at Sam's nod, he went and got himself a cup of wine, drank it down and poured two more. It was the first time in a long time he'd reached for liquor before coffee in the morning.

As the healer took care of some of the wounds, he held the cup to Sam's mouth, then set it down. When the healer asked Sam to put his feet on the coffee table so she could reach between his ass cheeks, where he was torn up, Dean couldn't watch. He went to the wall unit, "send up breakfast for Sam." His voice was so thick with emotion, it was barely above a whisper, and he had to repeat himself a few times.

By the time he returned, the healer told him she was leaving numbweed to be rubbed over the welts and injuries again, after Samuel was done bathing. Standing there, Dean watched helplessly as she left. His gaze was glued to Sam's torn lips and he was cursing himself a thousand times over for not saving him from this. Reaching out, he pushed the hair out of Sam's eyes, his hand shaking slightly. "Sorry Sammy, so fucking sorry."

The look in D'ean's eyes was one of deep pain. He appreciated the sympathy, but this wasn't unexpected as far as he was concerned. He knew good and well there shouldn't have been rope in that room, there shouldn't have been the gag. S'rance had planned ahead, and secreted those things in the room in anticipation of Curant flying Merith. That would not happen again. He would speak with K'tol and make it practice for the room to be checked in the future. He had a feeling Merith would not tolerate Curant catching her again either.

"You couldn't have done anything, D'ean. Besides, it's all hazy anyhow. Until this morning when the bastard thought he could get away with it now that the mating was over. When you could do something, you did. Would you help me to the bathing pool? It's right back through there." Sam indicated the door that led to the bedroom.

"Yeah." Dean looked down, hiding the anger that still simmered in him. He had no idea how or why Sam was this calm, so fucking accepting. Like K'tol, probably like the whole damned weyr. <Bet they're all patting S'rance on the back and getting a fucking feast ready for him>. He helped Sam up and put an arm around his waist, the fact that he was completely naked not bothering him at all. After they took a few steps, he realized he was once again holding Sam too tight. "Sorry."

Although Dean's strong arm around him was tight, Sam didn't mind. It comforted him, even if it hurt just a little. "That's okay. Stop beating yourself up."

They reached the door and walked through. "That numbweed helping you?"

"Yeah. She wanted to give me fellis juice, but I told her 'no.' It would put me too out of it and I want to look after Merith and...I don't want to be that out of it when S'rance shows up at my door, which I know he will at first opportunity. To gloat if nothing else. The bathing pool is behind that curtain," Sam said indicating the pastel blue fabric that hung from the ceiling.

He leaned heavily on Dean as they made their way to the pool. He was looking forward to the warm water, and he was looking very forward to washing Serance's dried semen from his flesh. He would probably scrub himself raw over the next few days trying to get the feel of that man off of him. The wine had at least helped wash out some of S'rance's taste.
"I can make it into the pool. There are steps," Sam said, slowly straightening, prepared to ease himself into the water.

"You want me to..." he nodded toward the pool that looked like a small pond, with steaming water. "If I can help, anything you want Sam, whatever you need." He was at a loss as to how to help Sam, but he was damned sure S'rance would not be gloating.

Sam considered the man's offer and finally nodded. "I can't really wash my back and...other places, very easily. My shoulders are fecking sore and so's my back. I know I'll loosen up in the water, but I really want to washed clean. Everywhere." He gave D'ean something between a hopeful and embarassed look. Plain and simple he knew he was going to have a hard time washing his ass. He wasn't even sure he could easily wash his legs he hurt so much.

"I'll take care of it." He helped Sam to the edge of the pool, holding his arm until he walked down the stairs and into the water. Then he started to strip, tossing his clothes behind him and kicking off his boots. Very quickly, he was in the warm, almost hot water, searching Sam's face. He had to be in pain.

Seeing Dean's concerned look, he gave him as much of a smile as he could manage. "I'll be fine."

Clearing his throat, he started going for the soap sand, but found himself instead with his arms around Sam, just holding him, stroking his back slowly, gently. "I want you to drink that fellis juice. I'll be here all day, you can sleep... rest."

The gentle wrap of D'ean's arm him surprised Sam. He could tell the man's hands on his back were as much an effort to comfort Sam as they were an evaluation of his injuries. "No, I won't give S'rance the pleasure of knowing he hurt me so badly I needed to drug myself into oblivion for three days. A couple cups of wine will do just as well in helping me sleep. But if you're staying...maybe I'll put in just a little fellis juice." Sam gave a small chuckle. "He's going to be exhausted and more than a little cocky and he'll have to help them fight thread. Maybe he'll make a mistake. I wouldn't mind seeing him get a little thread scored. After the threadfall, I'm sure he'll sleep most of the day away. He won't be by until tonight. I'll wager he'll think he has full rights to barge in. I'm certain he'll want to admire his handiwork." Sam couldn't help the slight bitterness that crept into his words, "but I really need to tend to Merith before I sleep."

Dean kissed Sam's cheek, just because if felt like the right thing to do. Right... ha... you couldn't kiss this away, it wasn't like some childhood knee scrape. "I'll take care of Merith. Ithiel can tell me what to do."

Sam looked at D'ean fondly. "Merith is my job. Would you let me tend Ithiel? But I would appreciate help tending to her."

"You make it hard to help you. You never used to be this difficult." Dean sniffed and moved away to get the sand soap, and grabbing the jar returned. He poured a little into his hand, then set the jar next to the washcloth. He didn't want to scrub Sam's face with the cloth so he used his fingers to gently rub the soap into his skin, over his lips, his closed eyes and cheeks, then throat. Every bite mark had him imagining what might have happened, and it took everything he had to keep from losing it. If Sam was keeping it together, he sure as hell would.

Sam let D'ean start to wash him. He was so tired he probably wouldn't have done as thorough a job as he would have liked and as Dean was doing. The soap stung in his open wounds and as soon as Dean was done with his face and neck he sank into the water and rinsed his face clean. He wiped the water out of his eyes after he resurfaced and saw the pained look on the man's face.

"You are a conundrum," Sam murmured as D'ean began washing his chest. His touch was so gentle and careful and kind. Sam leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. "But I've always liked puzzles."

A soft moan broke from Dean. He leaned in, brushed Sam's mouth, wishing he could heal it, wanting to replace every one of S'rance's kisses and touches. "I hate them, at least till I solve them." He held Sam's cheek, his gaze dropping to his lips. Yeah Sam had asked him not to kiss him again unless he was going all the way, but this had to be an exception... had to. Slanting his mouth over Sam's, he kissed him a little harder, dipping his tongue inside and stroking the roof of Sam's mouth, before pulling back.

Sam shut his eyes when D'ean kissed him, gladly letting his tongue inside. So much sweeter than the lingering taste of S'rance.He wanted to tell D'ean not to stop, to beg him to take away S'rance's taste and replace it with his own, but he didn't. D'ean had already made it clear he was confused by the situation. He would take only what D'ean was prepared to give.

Dean motioned for him to go near the stairs, and once Sam climbed up a couple, Dean was able to use to towel to clean his arms, back and chest. He felt Sam tense when he reached his abs, and was even gentler. Taking Sam's hand, he poured a little sand soap into his palm to let him wash between his own legs, then moved behind him. "If this isn't what you had in mind, just tell me."

"I can't reach it, not easily," Sam said with a nod. "It's fine. Go ahead."

He started washing Sam's ass, which was no big deal until he had to face the damage he thought he'd find between his cheeks. Dropping a light kiss on Sam's shoulder blade, he pushed his towel encased finger between his cheeks, slowly cleaning him... his jaw pulsing when he pulled the cloth out and saw dried blood. <Bastard. Fucking bastard. I'm gonna cut off his balls-->

<<There won't be hiding a thing like that. Curant will know. It is not worth it. You will heal Sam, just like you are taking steps to make sure I'm healed. Then we will fly them, together.>>

If not for the numbweed, Sam was certain it would have been tender beyond tender, maybe even too tender to touch. It had hurt terribly when the healer had cleaned the area and slathered it with numbweed, Even pushing a little into his hole to ease the pain from the tearing. The area was fairly numb but he still felt a dull throbbing. The thought that S'rance's seed was still inside him almost made him sick.

"D'ean, you can say no and I will understand but...I still feel him, his...seed...still inside me. The healer said I should stick to soft food while I heal. It will take...awhile...before I'll feel like, he's, you know, gone from there. I don't want any lingering reminders beyond the physical injuries." Sam paused trying to dig up the courage to ask D'ean what he wanted when he was fairly certain he knew the answer. There were others who would do it, he knew that, but he wanted...he wanted D'ean to do it. He would have chewed on his lip if it weren't already so wounded. "Please, D'ean, I don't want to wait days or even hours to be free of him. Would you...would you..." He drew in a ragged breath. "Would you fill me yourself, use your seed to rinse out that bastard's? I'm still numb, it shouldn't hurt, and you can use some soap or something to help." Sam practically held his breath, steeling himself for the refusal and telling himself he wouldn't be angry. And he knew Dean wouldn't. He was asking a lot.

Dean's gut clenched at the request. He'd kissed Sam for the same reason, wanting S'rance's touches to disappear, and now Sam wanted him to... He swallowed hard, continuing to wash Sam almost automatically now, move down to his thighs, not looking at him, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled with telling Sam 'no' and giving him what he wanted and needed. There were some things that there was no 'coming back' from, and he knew in his gut that no matter how much Sam wanted it in this world, whether it was for romantic reasons or to get rid of S'rance's stench and feel, he would not be able to deal with this when they got back... when he realized his own brother had fucked him.

"I'm pretty sure it's not a good idea to ... you're hurt down there," he looked up, as he pulled Sam's long leg up and started scrubbing, glancing at him, burning under the intensity of his brother's gaze.

D'ean was right of course, but he really didn't care. How much worse could D'ean make it? And if it got that...feel...out of him, he didn't care.

"I get it... I know why... what you're asking me for. It was what I was thinking..." Dean said softly.

A moment of elation filled Sam. D'ean would be willing to do it?

"...with the kiss," he Dean continued his admission.

A small sigh escaped Sam. Well, he had to ask. And he had. He supposed he could ask D'ean to find one of the blue riders. They were experienced in such things, but it made him feel ashamed and dirty, even though he knew it had been beyond his control. More, it was a matter that he was feeling as if it were wrong of him to ask for one of the others, that it made him seem weak. He could not allow that.

Allowing Sam's leg to drop, Dean waited for Sam to put the other one on his knee. "If you want, I'll... I can ..." Aw hell, how did you explain what he had in mind? "You ah... know what a finger-banging is? Minus the bang..." Fuck, he couldn't believe what he was saying to Sam.

Looking at him blankly, Sam shook his head. "Does it...uh, having something to do with drums? Hitting their heads with your fingers? But what do drums have to do with...you know," Sam asked, puzzled, and knowing it surely had nothing to do with drums, but he was at a loss for another answer. He probably should have just stopped with shaking his head 'no.'

"Drums? No. Gimme your other leg." When Sam rested it against his thigh, Dean cleared his throat. Sticking his middle finger out, he rubbed it back and forth against Sam's inner thigh. "Maybe I should have said finger-fucking." Heat crept up his neck, but since the water was hot, he had to already be flushed. "With that sweet oil... nothing of him will be left in you. Nothing."

He saw the embarassment that colored Ithiel's rider's face, and knew his own face was probably a little flushed too. The man's implication was obvious and at some level, the thought of a finger rather than D'ean's rather sizeable member, was much more welcome at the moment. Still he wanted it all gone. This was a start and far better than anything else he could come up with. There would be no sexual overtones and it would be plain and simple, like cleaning out any...dirty...wound.

"Okay. But if you can't, you know, get deep enough, will you consider what I asked?" Sam asked, a slight pleading to his tone. "I just don't know that I can look that bastard in the eye knowing anything of him is still inside me. That I can still taste him is bad enough. But the kiss helped. Thanks, for that." Sam cocked his head at Dean. "Thought you said you'd never been with a man? How do you know this finger...fucking. Fucking is the same as fecking, right? If you've never been with a man?"

That teased a grin out of Dean. "I've never kissed a guy before either, but you thought I 'got that right.' I'm just applying what I know with women and using a little imagination, here." If it hadn't been Sammy, he might be washing his mind out with bleach right now. Yeah, that had been the least of is problems when they'd been in going at it in bed. Instinctively, he knew he was on a slippery slope.

Sam liked it when D'ean grinned. His face lit up and his eyes shone with amusement. There was something almost familiar about that look. It was the knowing look of a man who had had any woman he wanted, any time he wanted her, but yet it wasn't bragging, it was more of a brotherhood sort of elbow in the ribs. Sam wished he did know what that felt like, to have that sort of experience with women. Instead, he could only offer up an embarassed smile in return.

"You worried?" His hand slipped down Sam's leg, releasing it, and he straightened it, gaze locking with Sam's as he stood a mere inches from him.

Shaking his head, Sam sobered. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be sitting here with you...like this. Just make sure you keep your word, that there won't be anything left of him in me."

"Same here, on all counts." He started for the stairs, then pulled Sam with him. "We'll do this on the bed, come on."

(Joint post)

Once they were out of the pool, Dean wrapped a bath cloth around Sam, then grabbed one and dried himself off quickly. "Go lay down, I'll be right there." He went to get his briefs and pants and pulled them on. He was going to make certain this went well for Sam, that it didn't hurt and was nothing like what S'rance had done to him. His brother had taken a few steps away, when he added with an enigmatic smile, "put a little of that numbweed on your mouth."

The heat of the pool had made the ache in his muscles ease and it wasn't nearly as hard to use the towel to dry himself as he thought it would be. He limped slowly over to the bed and took out the numbweed that was in the drawer. He wasn't about to try to walk out to the living room to get the jar the healer had left him. He had enough in here for now. He dabbed some on the wounds S'rance's teeth had left around his mouth on his throat and chest. He would let D'ean get the few spots on his back. With some effort he managed to spread a little around his raw and injured hole.

"Would you get the jar of numbweed and bring it in here. The one I have in here is about empty and I'll probably want some in the morning. Get the wine and the fellis juice too. The fellis is in the bottle next to the jar of numbweed. Don't even think about adding it to the wine. I know how much I need that will let me sleep well through the rest of the day and tonight. I'll want to bathe and clean my wounds tomorrow and I want to make an appearance, if only briefly. I want everyone to see what S'rance did to me. I think he'll find he gloats less when the others shun him for his brutality of Merith's rider."

Since mixing was exactly what Dean had in mind, he made a face at being busted even before he tried getting some of that fellis juice in Sam. Still, it was kind of reassuring that Sam knew what his actions would be, just as he might have back home.

<<You are predictable in some ways.>>

Sam chuckled at the face D'ean made. "Uh-huh. I figured that was in your mind. And the dragons didn't even have to tell me."

Dean rolled his eyes, and headed into the living room. A few moments later, he joined Sam on the bed. He wasn't even going to comment on what he thought of 'shunning' as a form of punishment for what S'rance had done. "Lay back."

Scooting closer, he started to apply the numbweed to all the places he thought Sam might hurt, waiting for him to roll on his side so he could get his back.

Sam complied, groaning a little at D'ean's gentle touch. He didn't realize some of the spots he had missed and the numbweed worked quickly.

Then Dean asked for Sam's hands and put some over the rope burn marks around his wrists. When he was done, he pulled some of the sheets over part of Sam's body, reached for the wine glasses and gave one to Sam. He waited for him to take a sip, then moved closer, so their faces were close. "Okay, good looking. Here's the part where you tell me where you like to get kissed and why. Then you get to ask me a question."

Sam gave him a puzzled look. "You are so odd. Okay, I guess." He thought for a moment. "I like to be kissed on the cheek. It's innocent. I figure my mom did it. Selina did it. A couple girls did it before S'rance chased them off. It always seemed, I don't know, a nice way to show you care without it having to be anything more than that. That's kind of stupid huh? And no, that's not my question." He looked into D'ean's green eyes. "Where are you from? Really."

"I don't think it's stupid. I'd give anything for one more kiss on the cheek from mom," he nodded, recognizing that strong desire to be a part of family... it had to be so hardwired into Sam that even here, it surfaced. Course his brother would ask the hard questions. "See now... you're supposed to ask me a sexy question, but I'm gonna answer you anyway. I'm from your past, and a place in the future." Yeah, that would go over real well. "Now... bout that kiss on the cheek..." he leaned in and kissed Sam, it was an open mouthed kiss, his tongue and lips working together to practically make love to Sam, before he pulled his head back and looked at Sam through heavy lidded eyes. "Just an <i>innocent</i> kiss. My turn to ask."

Sam was startled by D'eans' kiss. Not so much that D'ean kissed him, but he had to admit, he had never had a kiss on the cheek quite like that. If he hadn't been so surprised he would have turned his face into that kiss, but D'ean had stopped by the time he gathered his wits. Merith didn't say anything, but he definitely felt her amusement.

<Oh, hush,> Sam tossed her in gentle scolding.

For a long moment, Dean studied his brother, trying to work out how it was that his pulse was raised by that kiss and thoughts of more touching. "What part of a person's body turns you on most?" He licked his lips, then took a sip of the wine.

"You didn't answer me fairly," Sam pointed out. "If you're going to make this into a question song, then...it's that which everyone sees but offers up something special to those who are friends and families, but keeps that extra special something for one's lover. It can be curved, it can be thin, it can be plump and enticing. It can do things do to another that no other part of the body can. And then my question, if it's supposed to be sexy, is the same as yours."

Questioning song... riddle. Dean grinned. "I'm pretty good at riddles, hang on." Since they'd just been talking about kisses, his mind was in the right frame. Grin widening, he touched his own mouth. "Lips." At Sam's nod, he pumped his fist in the air, "yes!"

"As for your questions, stealing mine... that's cheating," he nodded. As he formulated his answer, Dean's gaze swept over Sam. "I don't think I have a 'one size fits all' answer for that one. On women, I like a nice set," he gestured toward his own chest. "On you?" Giving his cup to Sam, he started to inch the sheet down slightly past his hipbone, his fingertips brushing over heated and newly revealed skin. "Right here," he said, lowering his head and kissing the indentation between Sam's abs and hip bone. Though he hadn't meant to, he lingered, drawing in Sam's clean scent and touching his tongue to mark the spot again before lifting his head.

<<It's called arousal, there's no need to wonder about it.>>

<Shut up, Ithiel.>

Dean took a shaky breath. "My turn. Where is your most... sensitive spot?"

Sam couldn't help his smirk at the effect he was apparently having on D'ean. It was a shame he was such a wreck physically or he would try harder to entice him. He handed Dean back his cup of wine. "You know my ticklish spot already, so I'm guessing that's not what you're asking. My most sensitive spot? Beside's the obvious?" he said glancing toward his groin. "I'm going to discount nipples too, because that's just as obvious. My lower back, right near my waist." Reaching out, Sam caressed the spot on Dean, just above the line of his briefs. "Either side, though my left side seems a little more sensitive. Okay, so what time is your favorite time to make love? I guess that's not really a sexy question is it?" Sam had never played such a game and he understood what D'ean seemed to be trying to find out and he didn't mind the method at all. It was really rather fun. But he was going to have to think up more evil questions.

Dean closed his eyes as Sam stroked him, feeling only a little guilty at the pleasure he got out of it. "Ah..." he blinked. "It's got potential. What time... Okay, 'best time' isn't really a time of day. It's after a hunt... a... battle, like after you fight thread, or something dangerous and you win. You know, when the adrenalin is high." Maybe it was something only a hunter would understand, but he hoped there was some hunter left in Sam. He thought he saw snatches of it once in a while.

He took a sip of his wine, finishing it and reaching for the wine skin, which was a sonovabitch to pour from when laying on a bed. He topped Sam's cup off too, then continued to answer. "But if you want a specific time, I think it has to be real early in the morning. You know, when I'm still kinda asleep. I like being awakened for sex... a little morning surprise."

Now it was Sam's turn to answer and Dean looked forward to putting him on the spot, like he always did. "Whose face and what fantasy do you jack off to the most." He struggled not to laugh at Sam's expression. "Dude... not my fault, it's how the game goes. Just drink a little more, and answer."


Sam felt his cheeks turn red and hastly gulped down a few swallows of wine. Definitely needed more evil questions. "There was a girl," Sam said almost shyly. "She was well out of my caste, an appentice healer but obviously from fine, maybe even noble blood. She was at a festival. She had beautiful long blonde locks that were curly and delicate features, but her eyes told you just how strong she was. Her name was Jessca. But that was when I was still just a drudge, and it was just that one festival. I got to speak with her and spent what little money I had buying her a meal. I thought it was too bold to buy her a necklace, but I did get her a flower. I have long hoped she might come back but I heard a rumor that she died in some accident. But I still think of her."

Sam took a few more long draughts of wine. Remembering Jessca had thrown him but he was determined to try to bring a blush to D'eans cheeks as D'ean had managed to do to him. "Do you prefer a hot mouth on your cock, or a hand working you while you tongue a lover?" Okay, not terribly evil, but he felt he was getting closer.

"Uh uh, <I>that's</i> cheating," he said pointing at Sam. "You told me <i>who</i> but you skipped the <i>what</i> you fantasize about. What are you doing in the fantasy, right when you come, Sammy? Tell me." He leaned closer. "You doing her, she on top... what?" The name hadn't escaped him, but Dean figured it was a memory from Sam's real life that had embedded itself into his Pern self.

Glaring at him, Sam huffed. He could tell D'ean was taking immense delight asking him a question that would so embarass him. Since apparently part of the game was you couldn't use the same question, in response, he would have to dig deeper to come up with a really good question. But not until he got the answer he wanted most of all. "I'll tell you my fantasy when you answer my first question. Where are you really from?"

Shit, he wasn't gonna let it drop. Dean nodded. "But you accept my answer, whether you understand it or not. Remember, you all think I'm a little nuts," using his index finger he made circles near his temple. "I'm from Kansas. My mom's name was Mary. Dad... John. And I had a pain in the ass little brother who just... disappeared one day." He lifted his hand before Sam could ask another question. "Only sexy questions, that's the rule. Your question stand, or you got another?"

Kansas? He had never heard of that hold. It must be a small one, maybe even on Southern? That might explain why he didn't know some of the local foods. If it was small, who knew if dragons ever stopped by? They probably knew little of dragonrider ways. Maybe with the approaching red star they travelled to the northern continent? Well, he could pursue those questions later. "My question stands. Hand or mouth?"

Why was it when he imagined the scenarios, it was Sam's hand that was on his cock, and Sam's mouth working him? The dragon...

<<You are beating on the same drum, Mine. It isn't me, though I love Merith.>>

His gaze was focused on Sam's hand, his long fingers around the stem of the glass, and that was just making Dean all sorts of warm, like he was back in the bathing pool. Clearing his throat, he pulled his gaze away. "I think I like going from choice one to choice two." He waited to see if that was an acceptable answer to Sam.

Nodding Sam thought he probably would answer the same way. Fair was fair he supposed. He took a deep breath and felt his cheeks redden a little again. "Okay, so my fantasy with Jessca has me making her come, first with my fingers, then my mouth, then both. When she's panting and her tanned breats are glistening from saliva and sweat, I slide in. I make love to her, drawing it out until she screams my name as she reaches orgasm. And that's when I come." He took another drink of wine. It was definitely beginning to warm him. "I guess the question's back to you."

(joint post)

"Yes... yes it is my turn," Dean said, stroking Sam's face, no longer jarred by seeing the bruises now that he had enough wine in his system, dulling his senses. "My question? Do you want to have phone... I mean 'verbal sex'" One day ago, those words would never, ever, have left his mouth. Dean wet his lips with his tongue.

He liked the way D'ean stroked his face, the touch so gentle, so different than the rough hands that had been all over him those few short hours ago. He pulled back a little and stared at the man, utterly baffled. "How does one have verbal sex?"

"How does one... great." He shook his head. "Okay, ideal way? A way that can drive both you and your partner crazy?" He nodded toward the other room. "That wall unit you talk to the kitchens through, the pipes? Say you had a pipe to someone's room, my room. I'd ah... tell you what I was doing to you, and you'd tell me what you were doing to me."

One look at Sam's blank face, and he knew he'd done an awful job of explaining. "I'm kissing you, tasting your lips... pushing my tongue inside," he said in a low voice. "That's what I would tell you through the pipes. Then you'd answer, something like, 'I'm sucking your tongue inside my mouth, kissing you back. I'm getting hard.'" He cleared his throat again. "Okay, that sounds dorky when it's only one person doing it, but ah... you understand the game? And since I'm not in another room, there can be some touching." He gave a wicked grin, "you go first... tell me what you're doing to me."

"Dorky?" Sam said. "You have so many strange words in Kansas. So verbal sex is stimulating? Uh, okay." He saw the purpose of the game now. Finding out what your partner liked so you could focus on those things when you're doing this type of 'sex.' He studied Dean's handsome face. So if they were going to start making out what would he do?

"I'm wrapping my arms around your neck and pulling you close. I take a moment to stare into you eyes then look at those lips of yours. You've got beautiful lips, you know. I'd lean in and start kissing you, one of my hands running through the hair at the nape of your neck." He looked at D'ean, hoping he was playing the game right. "Your turn."

Men didn't have 'beautiful lips,' Dean wanted to protest, and yet a warm sensation swept through his body. "I've got one arm around your waist, I pull you up closer, right up against me... so close I think you'll leave marks on my body when I let you go. With my other hand, I explore your body, stroking your side, my thumb moving back and forth over your abs as we kiss. You taste so good, like wine and honey... a little sweet, a little tart, and you make me want more. I try to fight it, want to go slow, but Goddamit I can't... so I walk you backwards, until your back is up against the wall, and I kiss you again. This time deeper, tangling my tongue with yours, pressing up against your body until there's no room between us."

He set his wine glass down, and put his hand on Sam's hip, stroking slowly over the sheet. "Go ahead."

Stunned. That was the best way to describe the images that came into Sam's mind and how they were starting to affect him. Just simple words yet...

"I kiss you back and taste your sweetness, glad that you aren't waiting. I feel your body's heat penetrate me, even as I feel the cold stone against my back. One hand goes to your lower back, helping to hold you so tight against me. I moan into your mouth as I press my hips to yours. I can already feel the blood beginning to fill me. My hand slides under your pants and caresses your cheeks, kneading into those tight muscles. I want you undressed but I don't want to stop kissing you, I don't want you to move away and I kiss you more intensely."

"I whisper your name against your mouth and close my eyes as I let you tug me closer, let you feel how you're affecting me. I can't believe you make me hard so fast, and we haven't done anything. I need to touch you, need to feel your skin. Moving my hands to your hips I start pushing your shirt up, one inch at a time, touching, squeezing, feeling ever part of you, running my hand over your warm skin. Breaking the kiss, I move my mouth to your throat, sucking your skin into my mouth, then running my tongue lower as I keep exploring. Suddenly I'm so hot I can barely stand it. 'Take it off,' I demand, pulling your shirt up."

There was no denying that D'ean's words were making him hard, and he almost wished he had a shirt on and could take it off. The thought of cloth against cloth, then standing bare chested before him was a turn on, but the snapped order harkened a little too closely of S'rance.

As he spoke and imagined his actions and Sam's, Dean got so hard, his cock strained against the contstraints of his leather pants. That hadn't been the plan. The plan had been to turn Sam on, make him welcome the invasion of his finger, make him need it. This... side effect had been unforseen. Still, eyes locked with Sam's, the sheets down lower on Sam's thighs, just barely covering his groin. He started to grope Sam's ass, just the way Sam had described, then slowly moved his hand up to that 'special spot' that Sam had told him about.

Even as Dean touched his ass and began working his way up, even though it felt good, the order still irked him. Although it was pure fantasy, he felt a tiny flare of anger. "I tell you, 'I don't take orders,'" Sam said. "As much as I want my chest touched by you, I pull my shirt back down and capture one of your hands in the process. I bring your hand to my hot wet lips and suck in your index finger. I lick it and wrap my tongue around it as I suck it so hard my cheeks hollow. I move to the next finger and do the same. Sliding my hand up the back of your shirt, I lightly scrape my nails down your back as I rub my stiffening cock against your body. I can tell how much you want me and rock my hips just a little, matching pace with the way I suck on your fingers." Sam grinned wickedly at D'ean and took hold of the hand not working its way toward his lower back and did just what he described, sucking D'ean's finger into his mouth. If he hadn't used the numbweed, his lips would have probably been too bruised to do it comfortably, but the numbweed was doing its job. Noticing D'ean's groin, apparently so was the fantasy.

Eyes glued on Sam's lips sealed around his fingers, the heat within, and the way his cheeks hollowed, a moan welled out of the back Dean's throat as he swayed closer, his hand grabbing Sam's ass more tightly, kneading it. "I arch into you, grinding my hips, needing more pressure as you tease me. Fuck... by the time you reach my ring finger I think I'm going to go mad with need." Barely looking away, he opened the jar of sweet oil, and slathered some on his hand, then started to rub it over Sam's ass cheeks, moving in circles, slowly sliding some of his fingers along the cleft of his ass, but never stopping, moving lower so his fingers lightly brushed Sam's sensitive sac.

The deep massage of oil into his cheeks felt good. D'ean's slick finger running between his cheeks made him groan and suck a bit harder on D'ean's finger. When D'ean touched his balls his groan deepened.

"I can see you like driving me mad, that you're going to push me to the edge... that you like to play." Pulling his finger slowly out of Sam's mouth, his gut clenching at the wet popping sound, he cupped Sam's face. "It's alright... I like to play too." Licking his lips, he leaned in and brought their mouths together, brushing, touching, but pulling back each time Sam's mouth opened to receive his tongue.

The way D'ean toyed with him and the way he wanted D'ean allowed him to ignore the echo the man's words had to S'rance's. Almost. Sam set his wine aside and pulled Dean in for a hard kiss, not caring about the dull pain it caused him then he broke the kiss, staring into Dean's eyes. "I would never play with you that way, I would never drive you mad. Not like him. Not like he imagined."

Sensing a change in Sam's mood, Dean had kept quiet, kept touching him, waiting for an explanation, and not liking it when it came.

Sam swept up his wine glass and up ended it. Okay the words had been too close to S'rance's. He gathered himself and with a deep breath and a shakey smile, he apologized softly. "Sorry."

He would not let that bastard ruin this. "My turn. I release your finger but grind back against you. My hands go to your waist and I pull your shirt off. I lick my fingers and rub the wet digits over your nipples, teasing and pinching them, making them as hard as you've made my cock. I guide your hand down to the hem of my shirt and encourage you to do the same for me, to lift my shirt up and free of my body. I can't wait to feel bare skin against bare skin and that thought only makes me harder."

"Oh my God Sam, you [ipare[/i] driving me insane, in a good way," he insisted, "it's just exactly how it's supposed to be when you make love with someone. I want it. You want it. Then you make me want it more, then I up the ante... it's how it is, it's good." He kissed Sam again, slowly curling one leg over and around Sam's, so they were still facing each other and with each movement of his hips, he could drag Sam close, making sure their groins rubbed together.

<Is he alright? Can you check with Merith?>

Sam kissed him back, something in him uncoiling with relief. He hadn't meant to go all whacked on him, but some of those words just triggered the memories of S'rance's attacks. He liked the way Dean dragged him closer and helped as he could. "He told me I drove him crazy. Told me I was toying with him. Told me I deserved it. Ordered me to do things."

<<He worries about you,>> Merith said.

Sam pulled the man close and laid his cheek alongside D'ean's. "I'm okay, it just...hit some still tender nerves the way you said it is all. I know that this, it's the way it's suppose to be." Leaning back a little he looked at D'ean's worried face. "Good to know you want it as badly as I do. Good to know...you call it making love." He began kissing D'ean, cupping the back of his head so he couldn't pull away. If D'ean wanted to return to the game, that was fine, but honestly, he was a whole lot more interested in the touching bit rather than the talking bit.

Oh God, Sammy thought he'd meant it. Okay, his body meant it, but his mind didn't and he wasn't really trying to go there, he just wanted to loosen Sam up with phone sex, so this was pleasant. Yeah... all sorts of backfiring going on today. He gave up for now, tangling his tongue with Sam's, stroking it, sucking on it and pulling back. He watched Sam's expressions as he moved his hand back to Sam's sac, feeling its weight, cupping it, groaning lightly when they both arched against each other.

When D'ean's hand returned to his balls, it was making him so fecking hard. He reached between them and began stroking D'ean's cock through the leather pants. He wasn't up to sucking D'ean off but he could give him a good bit of stimulus otherwise and use his tongue to feck the handsome man's as well as was possible.

Too quickly, Dean was lost in the sensations flooding his system. They were mouth to mouth again, and straining against each other, and started to run his finger along that spot behind Sam's sac, pressing it rythmically, wanting Sam to be as lost in this as he was.

(joint post)

It felt like the other night, the other night just before D'ean stopped. Only this time he didn't think Ithiel's rider would stop. No, neither of them was going to push inside the other but just rubbing his hard cock against the man while D'ean pressed and titilated his own errogenous zone was wonderful. To be held in someone's arms that he chose to be held by, to be having sex with someone he wanted to have sex with. Just simply to be touched. He let himself go, letting the feelings overwhelm him, not analyzing, not thinking, just simply trusting the man whom he was kissing.

Dean kissed and thrust against Sam, no longer caring that it was his brother. All he knew was that Sam felt right, so fucking right in his arms. That he hurt, and that he, Dean could make a difference. That maybe, maybe for a few minutes, he could take away what that bastard had done. He started to push his tongue in and out, going from a slow, languid kiss to a full on breath taking tongue fucking that had him groaning and writhing.

His finger slipped upwards to Sam's hole. Dipping his finger into some of the thick oil he hadn't rubbed into Sam's skin, he started to work his finger inside Sam, slowly... teasing him with his mouth and body, trying to keep his mind off the fact he was penetrating him with his finger.

Although his hole had been generously smeared with numbweed, he could still feel the pressure as D'ean's finger played around it. The sweet oil was warm and slick and that gently probing finger felt surprisingly good. Sam rubbed D'ean's cock in time to the pace D'ean's tongue slid in and out of his mouth. He thrust his own hard erection along D'ean's stomach and gasped a little into D'ean's mouth as he felt the man's finger push in. The way D'ean's finger moved in and out, matching the movement of D'ean's tongue, matching the stroking he gave D'ean's cock, it all made Sam harder than he thought he could get. He moaned and pushed back on that penetrating finger. Sam's shifted his hand from Dean's member straining against the leather, and undid Dean's pants, releasing D'ean's dick from it's tight binding.

Dean almost stilled, almost pulled away, but he remembered how badly Sam had reacted the other day. What the hell... they'd gone this far. Not like whether or not he had his pants on while they were dry humping was gonna make much of a difference once Sam got his memories back. He forced himself to relax, to let Sam experiment with him in ways he knew his brother had not before.

Thougth Dean's cock was still covered by the cloth of his undershorts he could feel it more readily press against him and moaned. Moving his hand to D'eans lower back, pulling them closer, he aligned their cocks so they could slide alongside one another. Precome wept from Sam's tip and smeared D'ean's stomach, exciting Sam further, making him thrust harder.

After he worked a second finger inside his brother, Dean whispered, "turn over now," at the same moment he curled his long fingers deep inside Sam, stroking him.

Sam began to do as D'ean asked when the explosion of pleasure inside him made him buck against the man, a loud shocked moan of ecstasy falling from his lips.

"Again. Shards, do that again," Sam panted.

"Do what?" Dean asked thickly, waves of pleasure crashing over him at the way Sam had arched into him and moaned. Pushing his finger deeper, he felt Sam shudder and understanding dawned. "You... you like it right there."

D'ean expected him to be able to answer? Sam would have laughed if he could have but all he could think, all he could feel was that sweet spot being touched. Every time those fingers pressed there it sent such shocks of pleasure through his system he thought he might completely come undone at any moment. He threw his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he moaned and nodded. He finally gasped out, "What gave it away?"

He pushed back more enthusiastically on those delicious fingers. "Oh by the egg, D'ean," he groaned. He barely heard the pleasure filled thrum coming from the other room, coming from the ledge where Merith rested.

"Sarcasm in the middle of sex... I like it," Dean answered. It gave him a strange sense of power, knowing just how to touch Sam and get that response. He rubbed himself one last time against Sam just as he had him bucking, then he sat up and pulled Sam so he was laying on his stomach. He pulled his fingers out of him, trying to block out the damaged tissues and just concentrate on how hot it had been, having Sam fuck against him, and how much pleasure he could give him now, maybe help him get rid of any memories of S'rance.

Sam did not want to let the man go, did not want to do anything but thrust against him while those fingers worked inside him. He was all but helpless to stop D'ean from sitting up, but he voiced his complaint, doubly so when Dean pulled his fingers out of him. He pressed his firm erection into the bed trying to get the pressure back on it. If D'ean left him like this again, he just thought he might kill the man. Then Dean settled on top of him and not only did it reassure Sam that D'ean wasn't leaving him like this, but the added weight put much needed pressure on his cock.

Dean liberally poured more sweet oil along the length of his fingers, then pulled Sam's cheek to one side and pushed inside him. "It'll be fine, relax," he crooned, straddling his thighs and leaning over his back to speak against his ear. "Gonna make you feel good again."

Sam could only nod, glad to have D'ean back inside him, removing S'rances touch.

Skimming his mouth across Sam's back, and sliding one hand under him, he closed his hand around Sam's wet shaft. As he squeezed his cock, he moved his fingers in an out, his breath hitching at the sight of his own finger disappearing inside Sam. Suddenly, all he could think about was that he wanted to mount Sam, to press his cock where his finger was, to push inside to fuck him.

<Ithiel, cut it out> he said in exasperation, as his cock pulsed between his legs.

<<MMm? Not me, but it's very pleasant.>>

Sam thrust into the hand curled around his cock and pushed back on the fingers penetrating him. It felt so damned good.

<<Ithiel says D'ean wants to 'fuck' you.>> Merith informed Sam.

"D'ean, fuck me. Fuck me like I asked you to. Take me, erase him," Sam said in between his soft moans of pleasure.

Dean's heart lurched. He shook his head 'no' even as he leaned forward grinding his aching cock against Sam's thigh and ass cheek.

Sam pushed up and against the firm cock moving against him. "Fuck me. I don't want to remember him. Only you."

"He's gone, he's gone Sammy... look all clean, I swear to you," he said over and over, pushing his finger inside, withdrawing it, pushing more oil into Sam. "Nothing of him left, baby, nothing. Just come for me now... last thing... come cause you want to, come because it feels good, feels right. Come for me."

He wanted, practically needed D'ean inside of him. He wasn't sure until another's cock replaced where that foul shaft had been inside him, that he would ever feel clean again. D'ean's finger rubbing inside of him, it helped. A small part of him was even almost grateful. He really didn't want D'ean inside him because of S'rance. He wanted D'ean inside him because D'ean wanted him so badly he had to be inside of him. Pure love, pure lust, maybe both, but not because of S'rance.

D'ean's words, begging him to come began to have their effect and Sam started thrusting faster, moaning louder, practically snapping his hips into that slick hand. The image of D'ean beneath him, of him sliding in and out of D'ean, of having the man writhing and moaning his name was crystal clear in his mind. He reached up and wrapped his arm around Dean's neck and turned his head.

"You're...on the bed. I'm...thrusting...into you...you scream my name..." Sam whispered, his words suddenly replaced as he shouted the man's name. He stiffened and felt the strong release as the come spurted from him.

So hot... Sam learned so fucking fast. Dean was fucking into him as he brought him off, and his mind caught up a little later. This is what Sam jacked off to, this is what he imagined as he came, Dean on the bottom? It so wasn't happening, but Dean went with it. "I clench around you. You fill me up. And then we come... just like this, just like this Sammy..." he ground himself into him one more time and smashed his mouth messily against Sam's, whispering "Sammy," as he came, ropes of come wetting his shorts and leg, smearing against Sam.

Eagerly Sam kissed D'ean back, the waves of pleasure rippling through him. The image of D'ean below him, arching up, himself buried deeply inside combined with the feel of D'ean coming against him. A fresh orgasm tore through him and with it a fresh spurt of his seed spilled onto the soaked spot on the mattress.

He was kissing Sam, not chaste touches of mouths, but full on kissing him, tangling their tongues together as he completed his release. In the back of his mind, he knew... knew this shouldn't have played out like this, but he quelled the voices, he'd deal with them later. They'd both have to deal with the fallout, but right now... right here, this felt right. He sucked Sam's lower mouth into his, pulled away and then rolled over next to him. "Upside... I think you enjoyed that. Downside... we so need another bath."

Sam was panting heavily by the time D'ean was through kissing him and got off him.

"You think I enjoyed that?" Sam grinned and all but pounced on D'ean pinning him to the mattress as he kissed him deeply and thoroughly. He looked down at D'ean. "Any question about that now?"

His arms closed around Sam as they kissed. Odd, how natural, how right it felt to have a hard male body against him. Even odder, he hadn't come to the image of some busty asian chick, or any other chick, just to the feel and taste of Sam. "Give a guy a good time and see how feisty he gets," Dean teased, pretending as if he couldn't get up only because of the way Sam had him pressed into the mattress. "No, I don't think I have any questions."

He liked the light he saw in Sam's eyes. He'd missed it, found that it had mostly been replaced by a dullness or a deep sadness. "No wait, I do have a question," he grinned. "What image are you going to come to the next time you masterbate."

"Now that's a stupid question." Sam lowered himself and kissed D'ean again before settling into his arms.

* * *

(joint post)

Dean was under no impression that the comfort-sex he'd offered would make Sam's past go away, but if it lightened his burden just a little, made him see what sex could be like, or gave him something new to think or obsess on, then he was glad. His brother was definitely crushing on him, though. That might be a problem... later. Ithiel had told him that if he thought he didn't return Sam's feelings, he was sorely mistaken. But Dean ... he could separate all of the feelings he had. There was brotherly love, there was worry, there was a bond between them, that had always been there. The sex, that was just physical and brought on by circumstance and necessity. At least *he* understood it wasn't romantic love that lead to the physical needs he'd met. That merely got a loud snort from his dragon.

After bathing again, Dean had managed to tease and cajol Sam into drinking some of that fellis juice and letting him take care of Merith. Even his dragon had agreed, and while Sam had stubbornly started to tend to her wounds, in the end the rest of them had won out.

It was a busy day of fighting threadfall, so his refusal to leave Sam's weyr and go to lessons or talk to some of the others to learn about the ways of the weyr was accepted. Or maybe they understood that there was nothing they could do about his refusal, short of physically taking him.

While Sam slept, Dean wasn't completely idle. He spoke at length to Ithiel, getting the names of harpers, learning about the roles of various leaders at this and other weyrs, and learing about the holds and guilds. He asked questions geared to finding out who on this planet would have the knowledge to create those scrolls and send them into his world.

He didn't have an answer, though he had a list of people he needed to talk to. However, he did learn that in the last twenty or so turns, there had been strange happenings. Things the people of Pern were not used to seeing, such as serial killings, people going mad and getting so strong no one could stop them. There was talk of some having the power to move things, people, without touching them. And there were places now, where no one would go as they were haunted. Haunted was apparently a new word created by new events.

Thinking about it, Dean wondered if these scrolls might have imported not only humans, but others. That was a definite possibility. Maybe there were other things that piggybacked with a human, or the intended 'immigrant.' It was worth thinking on.

In the late afternoon, he'd awakened Sam and forced him to eat a little before watching, amused, as Sam asked for a kiss but fell asleep before he received it. He touched the bruises on his brother's face, applied more medicine and covered him up.

Now it was evening, and while Sam's prediction that S'rance would come by to gloat had been wrong, he'd been right about there being a party atmosphere in the weyr. He'd heard drunken shouts and laughter from the hallway tunnels from those who had started celebrating.

Sam awakened, loaned him new shorts, and they both got dressed to go to dinner. From the jutting of Sam's jaw, Dean knew there was nothing he could say that would make Sam agree to rest until morning instead of going to the public dining hall. He sat waiting on the couch as Sam disappeared into the bedroom one more time.

<<I will need to feed in the morning, Mine>>

<I'll tie S'rance to a post for you.>

<<That is not funny.>>

Despite his dragons protest, Dean heard a distinct rumble from Merith and was damn sure Ithiel had told her and they were having a good laugh over it.

Sam put some fresh numbweed around his mouth because he figureed half of what he was going to eat would sting. He had also decided to change into a different shirt. The other one was just a little too binding and some of the seams rubbed over wounds. The shirt he chose was one Selina had given him, short sleeved and laced up the front. He only laced it part way, both in order to ease any rubbing against his wounds and to display the damage S'rance had done though he knew S'rance would immediately assume Sam was showing off the bastard's marks. Lastly, he went to his carved wooden chest and pulled out his sword and buckled it on. If S'rance thought to push him, challenge would be the result. He was done putting up with the bastard and S'rance would learn just how very good Sam was with a sword.

"Okay, let's go," Sam said and headed for the door.

Pushing off the couch, Dean followed behind him, glad to see the sword at Sam's side. It told him a lot about his brother's frame of mind. He caught up in the hallway and took a sidelong look at Sam. Sam looked determined and almost stone faced, like he wasn't gonna take shit from anyone. A group of people coming their way parted so they walked through the group and Dean heard them whispering, knew they were discussing Sam's state, which wasn't a secret.

Just as they reached the entrance to the dining hall, Dean put his hand on Sam's back to let him know he was right there with him.

Sam walked into the dining hall and immediately the loud and raucous voices hushed. Without looking either way, he headed up to his spot by the weyrwoman, Leyla. The seat beside his empty one was taken by an arrogant and lounging S'rance. Sam strode angrily up to S'rance. "Currant may have flown Merith, but you are not my chosen and that seat is not yours to take. Return to your proper place among the honored bronze riders. This place of honor belongs to D'ean." Sam rested his hand on his sword, daring S'rance to challenge his order.

Dean was hard put not to make it happen, right here, right now. But looking at Sam, he knew his brother needed to do this. "I'd listen to him if I were you... he's not tied up this time."

If possible, the room got quieter, and many disgusted looks were thrown at the bronze rider who's dragon had won Merith.

"Come now, Sam... you know no one is responsible for what happens in the flight room. Besides, though you may not recollect it, those were sounds of pleasure coming from you." S'rance did keep his voice low, so that only those at the table could hear him. He stayed put, his eyes challenging Sam to contradict him.

"No one is responsible for what happens in the flight room?" Sam demanded loudly. He held up his rope-burned and bruised wrists for all to see. "You are responsible for putting the rope in that room. You are responsible for putting the gag in that room. You say there were sounds of pleasure coming from me? Of course, I was one with Merith. I have little recollection of what happened during the mating. But when I woke up the mating was over, I was tied up, I was gagged, I was torn, bruised, and bitten, and you accused me of being a drudge and then tried to rape me! Just as when you had a knife held ready to kill a sleeping Selina and forced yourself upon me. There is no shame in being a drudge, but I am one no longer. I am a queen's rider. You are subordinate to me. I am your superior and you will damned well remove yourself from my Chosen's chair. And let it be known that not only did you injure me, but your lust for violence and sex drove Curant to injure Merith. The young queen's scales are damaged. Curant held my Merith by her neck in his jaws. Just as you bit me," Sam exposed the bites on his neck, "so too did Curant bite the queen." Sam's voice dropped to a low growl, "Get to your proper place now or I will cut off your manhood and stuff it down your fecking throat."

The censure of the weyrfolk was heavy... even S'rance who ordinarily cared nothing about public opinion felt it. He was surprised by Sam's outburst, his openess about his injuries. In the past, he'd been secretive, hiding ... ashamed, but he'd aired in public what was only theirs to share, and that angered him.

"You heard him," K'tol said in a controlled voice, staring at S'rance.

There was a time and place to fight and to enforce your authority over another, and this was not the time. S'rance stood up suddenly, knocking his wine over, letting it pour onto the ground and splatter on Sam's boots. "Feminine vapors..." he shook his head, then started to move past them.

Sam ground his teeth, holding back the desire to cold-cock the son of a bitch but he would not accept such disrespect. "Feminine vapors?" Sam laughed, almost menacingly. "So any man taken by another during mating is not a man at all? You best watch yourself. I imagine a lot of the green riders might have something to say about that." He almost smirked at the man.

"Nice shiner," Dean jutted his chin toward S'rance's face. "Suits you."

S'rance stopped, took a step toward him, chest puffing out, a challenge at the tip of his tongue.

<Tell Curant his rider is a coward>

Sam stepped between S'rance and D'ean. He had no idea if Ithiel's rider had any talent with a sword. He had seen D'ean fight and that he could certainly do. "If you've got a challenge, it is with me, not with a rider whose scoring is still healing and whose dragon is both injured and in mourning. That smacks of cowardness and we all know the rider of Curant is no coward. Is he?"

<Ithiel, tell D'ean this is my fight tonight. It must be made clear that I am in charge.>

<<Sam wants you to stand down. He is in charge.>>

Dean's gaze shifted to Sam. <He's fucking pulling rank?>

<<You're learning.>>

"Excuse me," Dean's shoulder hit S'rance as he went to take the seat that the other bronze rider had just abandoned.

"I apologize for my inability to control my passion, next time it will be better for you," S'rance said softly, though his eyes were as hard as flint as they locked with Sam's. "You'll get tired of your chosen in good time, everyone knows he isn't quite... right."

Dean's eyes flared. He gripped the edg of the table, knuckles turning white. <Do I really have to put up with this shit?>

<<For Sam.>>

"Your inability to control your passion led to your inability to control your dragon and it influenced Curant to harm a queen. I will speak with the weyrleader and weyrwoman. Such poor control suggests you should perhaps return to class when not fighting thread. A dragon that would hurt his queen has no right to be given the chance to fly her." Sam's gaze didn't waver as he let that implication sink in, that Curant may be barred from even trying to fly Merith. "Regardless, there will be no next time. Ithiel will fly Merith."

Sam walked over to D'ean and placing two fingers under D'ean's jaw, he turned his face up toward him. He crushed his mouth to D'ean's. That there was passion in that kiss was plain. Looking back up to S'rance, he said. "Oh, he's very right. I won't be leaving him any time soon."

Settling into his chair, he didn't give the man a second glance, obviously dismissing him. The servers were there immediately, wiping up the spilled wine, providing fresh wine for both of the men and sliding filled plates in front of them.

S'rance's anger was palpable. Turning on his heels, he strode away, knowing he'd lost face and that Sam had found a new ally. One way or another, this situation would have to change.

Letting a breath out, Dean wiped a hand over his face as he answered the server's questions as to what he wanted. The minute she left, he muttered. "I feel like a Goddamn trophy wife, now how the hell did that happen?"

Looking askance at D'ean, Sam gave him a smirk. "I'm not exactly certain what you mean by trophy wife, but I think I can guess and I think Ithiel might take offense at that comparison," he said softly. "Thank you for letting me handle him, but be on your guard. You are officially a genuine threat to him. Do NOT let him push you into a challenge."

Sam looked over at Leyla and K'tol and gave a slight bow of his head in acknowledgment to them. He appreciated that K'tol backed him on this.

Leyla reached over and laid a light hand on Sam's arm. "You handled that well, Sam. If Tarnak had not gone belly to belly with Nimara, you might well have had my love in that room with you. Your queen is quite the flirt."

Sam felt his cheeks color just a bit. "Yes. I am truly sorry she gave me no notice that she had gone into heat until she rose. I will try to ensure that doesn't happen again, but I fear it is her nature to be just a bit conniving. We're lucky she didn't go between and drag half a dozen other bronzes in from other weyrs."

"How badly is she injured?" Leyla asked softly.

"The injuries are minor, Weyrwoman and she will recover soon. I have no doubt she will long be healed before S'rance's marks have faded from my skin. My weyr is always open to both you and Weyrleader K'tol if you would like to visit with Merith. She quite likes company."

The Weyrleader nodded, "I will be sure to do that."

Dean studied Leyla, then K'tol, then the dynamics of the group. He felt like the outsider, at odds with their ways, and very different from them, even Sam. It was no wonder they thought he was nuts.

<<Sam does not think you're 'nuts,' just a little odd at times.>>

<Great.>

Musicians were walking around the dining hall and playing ballads. Dean watched for a moment, listening to the words about the fight against threadfall, and the bravery of the dragons and their riders.

He looked at K'tol and asked a few basic questions about thread, and then about the days events. "No one was lost today, I hope." They weren't empty words. Dean did care what happened to the people here. "I mean... how often does that happen?"

"Fortunately the actual loss of a rider and dragon are rare. Unfortunately scoring by thread is not." He gave a brief wave toward the other riders in the room. At least a quarter of them showed older scars while a few were still bandaged and healing. "As threadfall has just started, we have several years left before the red star again passes far enough from us that the Threads can no longer reach us. We have had a few turns now to get more skilled at fighting thread and fewer of us suffer injuries." He reached over a squeezed Leyla's hand. "There are so few to begin with, the injury of even one rider and dragon can make it hard. As it is, because of our numbers every third day we have the dragon aid shift. No one weyr can really defend their hold effectively, so another weyr has to aid. Those are long days and when you get tired, it shows in the increase in injuries. But we have no choice."

Dean nodded. He'd learned their resources were low, and had heard often enough that the weyrs did not hold the numbers of dragons and riders they had in the past. Some sort of disease had passed over the lands, and dragon clutches were often small, and too many of the hatchlings were sickly and died instead of impressing.

"Sometimes a rider is injured and his dragon is not, while sometimes it is the other way around. In those cases a rider may ride a dragon that is not their own. We need to get you trained since as soon at Ithiel can once again fight thread, we will need you. That said, I would like you to start training tomorrow, with Nimara and me. D'rak is the weyrling teacher as you know, but the weyrlings need him. I think some one-on-one time will enable you to learn much faster. I know you are still healing, and I know you are still adjusting to suddenly being thrust into a relationship with a fully mature dragon."

That would cut down on his time ... time when he could be investigating the scrolls, but he knew that if he wasn't with K'tol, then he would be with D'rak, so there was no difference. It really sucked that everyone could easily know where everyone else was, with the right question posed to the dragons who were connected to their dragons. "I'm fine," he raised his arm slightly to show K'tol he had no problems with his range of motion. "That numbweed of yours really works."

He felt their gazes sharpen. "I mean... works better than I thought it would. Wine?" He looked over and saw that Sam's glass was already full as were the others', so he poured himself one. "When you say train with you, you mean ride him... Nimara... ah..." He drank half the glass of wine down, his dragon's reassurances about flying not helping in the least. He was sure he'd blanched, and looked very unhappy, which was nothing compared to how he'd look when faced with the actual prospect of flying.

K'tol raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own wine. Ithiel had conveyed D'ean's discomfort to Nimara. From when he had found D'ean on the beach he knew the man was shaken by riding, but he had hoped that would pass. It still might. After a couple times on Dragonback, D'ean would likely find it as joyful as any rider. It was a shame he could not first fly on Ithiel.

"I am afraid, D'ean, that you are a dragonrider and will have to learn to accept flying as part of the job." K'tol sighed. "I truly am sorry that this is all so terribly new to you and you must feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. I must admit to being a little surprised that you and Sam have already developed ties." Smiling at Sam, he said. "But I am pleased. Sam has had a difficult go of it being a queen's rider. We've found no indication in any of the records of this ever happening. Certainly there have been men suited to being a queen's rider, and certainly Sam would have liked to have...a young woman as his counterpart, arguing against it being impression due to sexual orientation. But then, there has never been a black gold before. We suspect the Illness caused the deviation, in both her coloring and the choice of the gender of her rider. She has proven to be unorthodox in other ways, such as rising at night. We honestly don't know what to expect from her clutch. If she is sterile like the greens, or the dragonets are sickly and few, we are lost."

Leyla patted K'tol's hand. "Merith will produce well, I'm sure of it. No sense fretting about it. When she lays, we will know. We will know even mores o once the eggs have hatched. Nothing can be done to change the outcome no matter what it might be."

Dean knew damned well Sam wasn't gay, and that he himself was absafuckinglutely straight. Yet this place, it had turned everything on its head. So it wasn't just wrong colored dragons, and the wrong sex being impressed. But what the hell could he say about any of that, nothing? "Ties..." his gaze met Sam's and the look in their hazel depths said nothing of pretending anymore. It humbled and worried Dean. Sure, it would be easy so easy to slip into what Sam thought he wanted, but what about the future? Then there was the fact he needed to examine his own part in this. No matter how much he told himself he had sexed up his brother for his brother's sake, due to the sitch, or because there was no other choice, he knew deep down there had to be more to this. He hadn't said 'hell no' or just played along, he'd been swept up in it, and Sam was right... it wasn't just the dragons.

He looked back at K'tol, "we're still trying to figure that part out. I do feel protective of Sam, very protective," there was an iron edge to his voice, a warning that there were some things that he would not compromise on. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam's 'bitch face.' <Ithiel, would you tell Merith that I am not about to add that I like how Sam kisses, not to the damned weyrleader?>

An amused smile appeared on Leyla's face. "Don't they remind you of A'ydair and R'and?" she said to K'tol.

K'tol smirked, turning his gaze to two young men at one of the other tables, one of which had his arm around the other's shoulder. "Yes, but they aren't brothers." Looking at D'ean he asked, "Sam's told me that you believe you know him though he swears you are not known to him. You both look about the same age. Did the Lord Holder perhaps foster you out when you were very young? In these days of limited resources, such a young fostering does occur upon occasion. Perhaps you recall Sam but you were sent elsewhere before Sam could form memories of you?"

Sam turned to D'ean a small frown creasing his brow. D'ean had said his parents names were Mary and John. Sam's parents names were Mariam and Jontan. Perhaps D'ean only recalled a shortened version of his parents names, or was told incorrectly whereever he was sent. Another hold would not know his parents and names might easily be mispoke. "We're you orphaned? Do you remember me from when I was very young?"

He hadn't wanted this talk to be public, but maybe if he gave at least part of the truth, Sam would be primed to believe him. "I remember you," he nodded. "Remember carrying you the first time, you were... I don't think you were one year... one turn,that is." He remembered the fire, remembered how dad had shoved the baby in his arm, how Sam had belonged to him, been his responsibility after that night. Dean casually turned his head to see the other brother's that Leyla was referring to, and saw four people at the table, two men and two women. The men sat close, one of them pulled the other closer and kissed him.

Dean's head snapped back. "Now wait a minute, they're brothers? And that's okay?"

The others passed puzzled looks. Tilting his head, Sam asked, "Why wouldn't it be? They've already a tie between them, and it is not as if they will produce children with each other. I don't know how they do so in 'Kansas', but here all children are reared together. Brothers and sisters are sometimes closer to each other. In their case, they were. R'and impressed a brown. When his younger brother A'ydair impressed a green, it was no surprise they became lovers." Grinning at Leyla and K'tol he added, "Though I have heard R'and lament on A'ydair's insatiable sex drive."

K'tol and Leyla both laughed.

"That's true of most green riders," K'tol said.

"And some gold..." Dean muttered, trying to clamp down on the shocking discovery. No matter what he told Sam, not matter if Sam actually believed him, he wouldn't think a sexual relationship between them was off the scales... going straight to hell ... wrong.

Sam thumped D'ean lightly in the shoulder. "I am not insatiable." After a moment, Sam sat back, seeing that Dean was having difficulties with the concept. "Dragonriders' ways are much more free thinking than in holds. It's not uncommon for hold-children to need some time to adjust to the idea," he said compassionately. "So...you believe we are brothers? And that is what you meant the other night when we...when we had our disagreement?"

The thought that he might have a brother thrilled Sam. It also angered him that no one had ever told him he had family yet alive. S'rance was surely behind that as well. It explained some of his feelings toward D'ean and maybe in a way it was why Ithiel re-impressed. Sam already held a place in D'ean's memories and his heart. It was a familiarity that maybe was enough to convince Ithiel to take him as his new rider.

Dean grinned at the slug, now that gesture was familiar. "It's what I meant, yeah. You finished with your... tubers?" Though he pointed with his chin, Dean didn't wait for Sam to answer, and instead snagged one from Sam's plate.

Giving a long suffering, exaggerated sigh, Sam slid some of his tubers from his plate onto D'ean's. "Well I suppose if I am going to be insatiable, then you better keep your strength up." With an evil, lusty grin, Sam added. "That is, if you think you can keep up with your little brother."

<<Yours is scaring Mine.>> Ithiel matter of factly told Merith.

* * *

(ALL POSTS ARE JOIN POSTS FROM HERE ON OUT)

Sam walked into D'ean's weyr and paused once he could see Dean and Ithiel. He bit back a laugh. D'ean hadn't quite gotten the hang of the process of tending Ithiel as was indicated by his curses and Ithiel's snorts and the puddles of shiny oil pooling on the stone floor of the dragon's ledge. Sam took a moment to admire Dean's body. He was shirtless and there was oil on his muscular arms. The thought of D'ean turning around and Sam able to see his hard body oiled and gleaming sent blood straight to his cock.

"I hear you're having a little trouble with technique," Sam called out.

Dean lifted his head, but didn't turn. "Nope... no trouble." {You're such a gossip!}

{{There's not shame in asking for help especially when you <i>desperately</i> need it.}}

Having polished his beloved Impala for years, Dean thought he could master the art of polishing a damned dragon with no help.

"Let me help you oil your dragon, D'ean," Sam said and pulled off his shirt. D'ean had made a bit of a mess of it. He carried some extra cloth over to D'ean and Ithiel.

"My 'dragon' is staying in my pants, thank you." After all that talk about being brotherly love, Dean had to protect himself and his 'assets.' Turning, he pointed at Sam, "You... keep your hands off it, oil or no oil, hmmm?" A smile quirked his lips at the slightly astounded look Sam was giving him, and of course he wasn't about to notice his own brother's rippling muscles.

When D'ean turned around, the sight was even more delicious than Sam had anticipated and he just stared in frank admiration until D'ean's words sank in. After a moment of surprise, Sam strode up to Dean, close enough they could kiss. "You're the one who accused me of being insatiable. I wouldn't want to make a liar out of you."

"Ah..." Dean took a step back and bumped into Ithiel whose body was like an immovable wall. "It was a joke." He licked his lips, fighting against the sudden heat sweeping through his body, and quickly turning around to give Sam his back, and pointedly scrubbing the cloth over his dragon's hide.

{{You make Mine shy, and he thinks it is quite a feat,}} Ithiel told Sam. {{But both of you should be thinking about me, not each other. My skin itches!}}

Sam burst into laughter. "I'm not clueless, bronze rider. Now stop being an idiot and let me show you the proper way to oil a dragon. This dragon, not <i>your</i> dragon." He moved up behind Dean and leaned in, whispering in his ear. "I'll show you about your 'dragon' next time."

As heat traveled through his body from the point where Sam's warm breath skimmed his ear, Dean stiffened a little, trying to keep from making contact with Sam's body.

Grinning, Sam took hold of D'ean's arm and guided him up to Ithiel's head. "C'mon. We start here. You always want to start at the highest points. It's generally top of head to the snout and then under the jaw. Each dragon is different when it comes to the neck. When you do the neck and body, try to be sure not to get oil on the side you're not working on. On the side you're working on, do the belly down to the lowest point. Do sections about as wide as your arms stretch and then move to the next section. Do the wings last. We'll need to be sure to oil the scoring well and make Ithiel stretch and flex his wings, otherwise they will stiffen up on him."

There was something very sensual about the way Sam was pushing his arm up and down Ithiel's body. Dean could feel the heat from Sam's body permeating through his clothes. Each time Sam moved his arm farther, made him stretch, he held his breath, expecting Sam to touch him as he too stretched. He coughed. "I got it. Thanks." If he had stuttered, he would have kicked himself.

Sam poured some oil onto a cloth and began long slow strokes running down Ithiel's face and spent a little extra time on the eye ridges, but was careful to keep the oil out of his eyes. Deanie popped in then, creeling in complaint.

"I oiled you already, Deanie. Stop whining, Jealous."

Dean chuckled. "You did name him after me, you do get that, right? Except we're nothing alike."

Sam gave him a lopsided smile. "I guess you're right. Something in me must have remembered you. And you're right. You're nothing alike. For one, he doesn't snatch food from my plate."

Moving, Dean brought a bucket closer, then poured more oil on a cloth and watching Sam, used the same small motions to get the oil into the dragon hide. His hand bumped into Sam's. Their eyes met, but he pulled away and kept working.

"Ithiel really could use a good sand scrubbing," Sam said as he worked on the dragon's hide. "It makes the oiling go faster, easier. Hopefully by next week he'll be able to fly down to the lake and I'll show you how to do that. He won't complain about itchy skin as much."

Sand scrubbing, great... considering the size of his dragon, it could take all day.

{{Size matters,}} Ithiel said smugly, picking up some of his rider's sense of humor.

After Sam helped D'ean get one side of Ithiel done, he decided D'ean could handle the rest on his own. He had already sanded Merith and oiled her and his aching muscles and healing wounds were beginning to complain beyond his ability to ignore them. He went inside and used the grooves to call down to the kitchen. "Please bring us some water, some fruit, and a couple sandwiches. Thank you."

Settling into a chair where he could still see Dean, Sam wiped the sweat and oil off of his arms and chest, though the oil left a sheen on his muscles. He watched appreciatively as D'ean continued his diligent work on the ledge. The smell of the oil brought back the memories of the other night, of D'ean's fingers inside of him, of D'ean's mouth on his. If Ithiel had not pointed out that D'ean's focus needed to be on him, his dragon, Sam would be by D'ean, pressing up against him, kissing his neck, running his hands over his oil-slicked chest, pressing his hardening dick against D'ean's backside.

After a few more minutes of watching D'ean he decided the rider could probably use a bit of a break. He had been working for awhile before Sam ever arrived and his muscles were probably beginning to ache with the new movements they were unaccustomed to. His shoulder was still healing fromthe scoring he had taken too. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to D'ean, stepping up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Dean's muscular chest and began raining featherlight kisses on Dean's neck as he pressed himself against D'ean.

Dean's heart leapt into his throat. He stiffened, stopped working as Sam's hand moved over his chest and his warm mouth made contact with his neck, sending all sorts of messages to his brain, and to his <i>other brain</i>. How was he supposed to deal with 'octa-Sam' when his own body was all for Sam's ideas?

"I thought you might be due a break," Sam said into his ear and then returned to kissing D'ean's neck.

"Mmm," he gave a shaky laugh. "Sam..." A hot puff of air left him as he felt Sam's body press against his back. His pulse started to race. "Just ah..." he swallowed as Sam's mouth moved over his throat. "Just let me finish here, okay?" Licking his lips, he started oiling Ithiel again, though his mind and body were elsewhere... getting ideas he didn't need.

He had felt D'ean stiffen under his touch and it hurt just a little. He tried to remind himself that this 'Kansas' was apparently very prudish and that D'ean he was having difficulties with the idea of making love to his brother. Brother. He still found it hard to believe that he had family.

A knock at the door and the announcement of "kitchen" heralded the arrival of their food. The kitchen was always prompt with food when they knew it was for Sam. Not because he was rider of a queen, but because he treated every last one of them well, greeted them warmly, knew all their names, and even helped with clean up sometimes.

Sam recognized the girl's voice. "Come in Vanna," he called.

The young woman walked in with the tray. "Afternoon, Sam," she said with a bit of a bow and set the food on the table.

Sam planted a final kiss on D'ean's neck. "You. Break. Now," he scolded D'ean. "You need to eat."

He walked over to the obviously very pregnant woman. "They shouldn't be having you carry trays and climbing stairs," Sam said, wiping his hands clean of the oil. "May I?" he asked indicating her belly.

"I like the walk and the tray isn't too heavy. I'm pregnant not crippled," she said with a laugh. "Of course you may. They're being quite active, especially these last few days. One of them likes to kick. Maybe both of them. Or maybe they're tusseling with each other."

Grinning, Sam gently laid his hand on her belly. His face lit up as he felt one of the twins give a sound kick. "Oh they're going to be a handful."

"Jontae says their activity is a very good sign. If the Illness were affecting them, they wouldn't be nearly so active, so we have high hopes." Her face darkened. "I remember last time, when my baby died at birth, she had never been as active as these two are. Jontae says one week, maybe two and they'll be ready to pop out into this world screaming and red faced."

"You make sure someone tells me. I'll come visit. Merith and I will go get you some of that fruit from Ruatha you like so well."

Smiling she gave a bob of her head. "How can I turn down such an offer? Let us know if you or D'ean need anything else. You can tell him we're working on getting more salt."

"Salt?" Sam asked as he escorted her to the door.

She pointed down to the thick line of salt across the threshold.

Dean had settled down on the couch and watched Sam's easy interaction with the serving women. He'd always had the knack for connecting with people at a below-the-surface level, and had not lost it, Dean could see that. He was wiping his hands on a rag realizing Sam was right, he was ready for a midnight snack, when Vanna alerted Sam to the salt line. Great, another thing that would convince Sam he was freaking nuts.

{{You could easily distract him from any such thoughts.}}

{Merith's here, right?} Dean thought he knew the reason for his dragon's 'suggestion.'

{{Right}} Ithiel rumbled with delight as the queen touched down on his ledge, and butted his head with hers.

As Sam walked over, Dean shrugged. "It's ah... ah... a thing." Please let it go, Sammy or we're gonna have that talk.

"I'm more discreet about it," Sam said with a soft laugh. "I think that clinches it. You must be family. I haven't met anyone else who lays salt across the doorway until you." He picked up one of the reeds beside the doorway and brought it over to the couch. "Use these instead. You can fill them with salt and use salted wax to seal their ends. I'll have the potters make you a pipe like I have at the edge of Merith's ledge. That took some figuring out, how to put something there that Merith wouldn't break, or wouldn't blow away. It hasn't broken yet and it's been there for a turn or so."

After handing D'ean the reed to look at he asked quietly. "Do you know why we do it? Why we lay the salt? I don't. I just know I don't like to sleep without the salt there. I feel...vulnerable." His hazel eyes begged for an explanation from the man.

"Yeah Sam, I know why. I also know the minute I tell you, the way you're looking at me now, like you trust me... it's gonna all change." Letting out a breath, he grabbed Sam's arm, tugging him down to sit next to him. Their thighs pressed together and Dean actually wondered if Ithiel's plan might not be a good idea. "Maybe this talk should... wait, a couple more day, until you get to know me more." His eyes locked with Sam's.

"If you know why it's got to be because of family, something to do with our family. I always assumed it did." Sam touched the tattoo on Dean's chest. Maybe this was family related too. "Some distant memory, something Mom and Dad did and I somehow remember it." He dropped his hand and let it rest on D'ean's thigh. "Is there a reason I shouldn't trust you? And whatever the truth behind this salt fetish of ours is, it would break that trust?" Shaking his head Sam said, "I've slept with you. I've let you jack me off and ...and put your fingers where no one else has except by force. I told you before, I've always felt like some part of me was missing, and somehow you fill that place. Maybe it's because I knew, deep down, you existed, somewhere."

The 'straight talk' about where Dean's finger had been had Dean squirming just a little. {He said 'jack off.}

{{He's starting to talk like you, you're a bad influence,}} Ithiel answered.

Sam pulled the plates off the tray and then the cups of water before setting the tray aside. "I don't know what a few more days difference will make. I know you love me. I know you're scared to death to sleep with me because of some twisted code of honor you were reared with. But if you need a few more days to have faith in me, then that's what you need. Just promise you'll tell me someday? And about this, too." He glanced down at his tattoo on his chest. "I always thought others had it, but I've never seen anyone else with one, not that I see many without their shirts though. Not until you. I got it a few years ago, but I don't...I really don't remember getting it."

"Twisted code of honor," Dean gave an almost bitter laugh. "Okay... okay Sammy, what if I told you Kansas is somewhere else, somewhere far... I mean outta this world far, beyond even that red star. What would you think? What if I told you that back there, if I even tried to touch you like... like that, you'd have beaten the shit outta me." His face was deadly serious, though he expected Sam to get up and walk out, or laugh in his face.

He was surprised D'ean decided to answer him. He wanted to know, but he was going to give D'ean his time. He listened to D'ean's words, his brow creasing. D'ean was from another world? That was...well, not impossible...but...

"Then you have a starship?" Sam challenged skeptically, not really believing D'ean. Maybe D'ean was a little crazy. But his ways were so odd, so different. His speech was different, he used words that no one knew or understood. A hundred questions bubbled up inside Sam, but first D'ean had to convince him he was from another world. "Prove to me you're from somewhere else."

"No... no starship, you know about space travel?" He was surprised by that, and it gave him a flash of hope, even though Sam was asking him for proof.

"History says we are descendants of settlers from another world. They found the ships around the time of the white dragon, but so much of our history has been lost, so much of the way to make things and do things. I know there are those who study those artifacts and try to make sense of them. Some they have, some they haven't. The ships are where the glows come from." Sam pointed to the glowing lights in the room. "The people from the ships made dragons out of fire lizards to fight the thread. They had machines that could cut tunnels into rock to give us our weyrs and holds for safety from the thread. I know ways to travel between worlds using ships are possible."

"There are other ways to travel." Right, like he hadn't been floored by the method he had used to get here. He rubbed the back of his neck, then got up off the couch to walk across the room to a chest. Lifting the lid, he rummaged through it and came back with a handful of items. Sitting down, he held out the silver dagger. "These are the only things I was able to bring. The hilt is made of ivory... I don't know if you have that here."

Sam looked at the dagger. He ran his fingers over the 'ivory.' After a moment he realized it was polished bone. He looked back up to D'ean to see what else he had.

D'ean lifted a silver amulet on a leather tie and held it up. "You gave me this. Last couple days... it's the first time I've taken it off." The music player lay on his lap.

Fingering the amulet, Sam shook his head. It was, well, kind of ugly, actually. "How is that possible? I was a baby when I arrived at Ista. Or was it some sort of present that my--our parents gave you in my name?"

"No Sam, you grew up with me. From the time you were born until you disappeared to... here, we were together almost all the time, except when you left for school for two years." He knew he wasn't doing a proper job of explaining it. "You were missing for... less than half of a turn. You looked... just like this." He saw the denial hot in Sam's eyes, and grasped his arm. "Your memories were altered. You weren't born here, anymore than I was. I swear it's the truth... I swear it."

"Half a turn?" Sam said. Okay, maybe D'ean was...touched. "D'ean," he laid his hand over the one grasping his arm. "Merith is almost two turns old. Everyone here knows me. Everyone in Ista Hold knows me. Are they all in on this," Sam waved his free hand, "conspiracy? For that matter, why me? Who took me?"

{Ithiel,} Sam asked, {is your rider...delusional? Can you tell?}

{{There is nothing wrong with Mine!}} A chagrined Ithiel told Dean that Sam believed him to be delusional.

Dean pulled his arm away. "I am not crazy, Goddamit." He ran his hand over his face, knowing he should be more patient. Hell, in his much more technologically advanced world, he'd kick the ass of anyone who told him they were an alien brother of his. "I didn't say all these people are 'in on it.' I said memories have been altered... yours, theirs... but it's a lie, this life you think you've been living. I don't know how much of it is a lie, I mean time might pass at a different rate here, but for me? You were with me six months ago, and then you read these... these scrolls and... okay, let's skip that part. How about you listen to this."

He picked up the mp3 player he'd railed about when Sam got it for him. "Here, in your ears, like this." He leaned in and put the buds into Sam's ears, swallowing as his brother's scent affected him again. Was he going to have to sit on the other side of the room, dammit? "Ready?"

At Sam's nod, he hit play. "That's from where we are from, Kansas. It's what we listened to."

Sam jumped a little when he heard music the likes of which he had never before experienced. He picked up the box and looked at it, playing with the buttons and figuring out how to skip to the next piece of music, how to adjust the volume, everything. After a few minutes he turned it off and handed it back to D'ean silently.

He drank some of his water and absently ate a few pieces of cut up fruit as he pondered. Finally he said, "Okay, let's say for the moment I believe you. I know without any doubt that I have been here at least two years. You know what a bond with a dragon is like. I don't think that could be altered." He stared at the box that made music. It was unlike anything he had ever seen and the music was like nothing the harperhall could produce.

"I'm not...fully convinced of your veracity. But I will think on this. Until I have sorted this out for myself, let's leave my other questions unanswered. I would prefer to deal with one fantastical concept at a time. I will want to know why you remember and I don't, why I was taken, how you got here, and why I have a need to put salt at the door. And probably a dozen other questions. And is it a one way trip for you? You have a dragon now. Pern needs her dragons."

"Hard questions," Dean nodded, glad he wasn't gonna have to answer them now. Some of them ... he had no idea how to deal with. The dragons.

Sam sat back and began eating his sandwich, watching his brother. He had an idea as to how to check the truth of D'ean's words. "You did say half a turn ago in...Kansas...I was not a child I was apparently as old as I am now, right?"

"Yeah Sam, you were." He was being a little defensive, but he couldn't help it. He knew he was still being tested. Hell, he knew he'd have tested Sammy ten ways from Sunday, but he couldn't help it if it pissed him off a little. "Twenty four."

"No need to snap, I'm just confirming I understood you correctly," Sam said, almost preoccupied. Cocking an eyebrow he gave a nod. "I'm twenty six now. My theory stands. I've been here two years, if what you say is true." He turned his gaze on Merith who had cuddled up with Ithiel. "If that's the case, I was brought here in time for the hatching. You were found near a weyr where eggs would soon be hatching as well. It may not be that time passes differently, but merely someone is brought when they are needed. When dragon eggs are nearing hatching. Or even you were where you needed to be for B'tan and Ithiel." He turned his gaze back on D'ean. "I'm not saying I accept this yet. I'm simply looking at the logic that might be behind it."

Dean rubbed his eyes. "Scrolls have been scattered in my wor... in Kanses. You were snooping around our dad's stuff and you found one of them. I guess you fell asleep trying to figure out what it meant, and just like that... you were gone. It took months, but then we figured out that the scrolls ... they select people to bring back here. Half the stuff in the scrolls, I didn't get... I mean dragons, really?"

{{What is that supposed to mean. Did I appear to be a figment of your imagination when you were oiling me and got tired so quickly?}}

"I had help," Dean continued ignoring Ithiel. "Figured out how to make the journey keeping my memories, and..." he spread his hands out, and grinned. "Here I am."

"I'm glad you're here," Sam said. "Whether you're delusional or from Kansas, I'm still glad you're here." He scooted a little closer to D'ean, leaning against him, and yawned. "You're lucky either we speak the same language which seems highly improbable, or that you didn't entirely escape some effects of your trip. I couldn't read the writing on your music box, but I could understand the words to the songs. Huh. That seems counter intuitive." Sam yawned again. "C'mon, let's go to bed. We'll deal with your 'Kansas' in the morning. We can finish oiling Ithiel then too since he's otherwise occupied." Sam didn't move to actually get up, feeling pretty comfortable right where he was. If the man was crazy, then the man was crazy. It didn't change the fact that D'ean made him feel safe and loved. He would find a way to deal with whatever the truth was.

Sam snugged one arm around D'ean's waist as he turned toward him and settled his head on D'ean's shoulder. "So while we're on the strange and unbelievable, tell me about the salt."

"The salt," shaking his head and chuckling, Dean put his arm over Sam's shoulder and was reminded of the brothers at the dininghall. He didn't pull away, but he leaned forward to grab one of the sandwhiches and took a huge bite. "These would be better with onions... you have any here?" he asked, even before swallowing.

"I have no idea what onions are. A Gather will be soon. I'll take you around to all the food and you can hunt for your onions. So, salt?"

"The salt is to keep evil things away. I don't think you have a concept that I can analogize to, but there are things that walk our earth that possess people. Take over their bodies, and that's putting it simply. The salt prevents that type of entity from coming in when you're asleep. It keeps you safe from some of the other things that go bump in the dark too." He recognized the disbelief in Sam's face. "It's true, wish it weren't... but it is. That's what our tattoos are for." He touched Sam's bare chest. "Matching. We got them to prevent possession."

"Of course it is," Sam said with a groan. Traveling from other worlds by using scrolls? Music boxes. Fake memories. Well, why not monsters too while they were at it? If someone was going to dream up a delusion, D'ean was doing a good job of it. More frightening, Sam thought, was if it was all true.

"Possession? And there is more than one type of...evil? The only thing I want going bump in the dark is me and you."

Dean laughed. "I told you, if I tried to so much as bump you in the dark there... you'd punch me out. Also true." Looking at Sam resting against his shoulder, his heart constricted. "And also maybe wish it..." A sigh escaped him, and he held Sam just a little tighter.

"So everyone in Kansas salts their doorways? Has these tattoos? Kansas sounds like a strange and dangerous place. But salt must not work here," Sam said snuggling closer. "Didn't keep S'rance out."

"Uh uh, most people don't know about possession. They think its something that happens in the movies... in the ballads, stories. Takes something happening to you or someone you know to wake you up to the truth." He skimmed his mouth over Sam's temple as he wondered whether should tell him his own theories, that some evil things had gotten through. "Salt works, you just keep on using it. S'rance is... he's a human piece of shit, not the same."

"I don't sleep easy unless it's there." He sighed when Dean gave him a light kiss. He tilted his head back, hoping for another kiss. "Do I want to know what happened that woke us up to the truth? You said I was snooping around Dad's stuff. Is Dad...is Mom...are they still alive?"

"No. I'll tell you that story some other time. Bed?" He raised a brow, "you ah... bunking with me?"

Sam tried to figure out what the world 'bunk' meant, then rather hoped it meant what he thought.

{{That means sleeping with him. Mine hopes so,}} Ithiel told Sam directly.

Sam sat up enough so he could kiss D'ean. He moaned as he slipped his tongue inside D'ean's mouth, tangling their tongues and investigating every part of D'ean's mouth that he could. After a long and intense kiss he finally came up for air. "Guess it's a good thing we're not in Kansas anymore, because punching you out is the last thing on my mind." He decided to ignore the explanation Ithiel gave him for the word 'bunk.' He liked his initial interpretation of it better. "I'd be happy to let you bunk me all night long if you think you're up to it." He grinned as he ran his hand high up Dean's thigh, caressing it suggestively.

He couldn't help the feelings rushing through him, or that the kiss affected him so. He couldn't help the fact that his fingers carded through Sam's silky soft hair, or that he moaned when Sam stroked his thigh. "I'm not..." He cleared his throat. "It's really freaking me out that I'm the one putting on the brakes and trying to be logical. We're definitely not in Kansas anymore."

He stood up, taking Sam with him, not really answering as he walked him backwards toward the bed. "Let's get this off ya." His hand slid to Sam's waist and he started to undo his leather pants, swallowing when his hand grazed Sam's bare stomach.

Sam's eyes didn't leave D'ean's face as he trusted the man to guide him. He saw the look that crossed his brother's face when he felt the light touch on his stomach. Sam had no idea what 'freaking me out" meant, but he didn't want D'ean to put on the brakes tonight, and this time, he wanted Dean just as naked as he intended to be. He ran his hands over Dean's still oiled chest. "Mmm, nice," Sam murmured.

As soon as D'ean had his pants open, he rested his hands over D'ean's and helped D'ean push them down his hips, making sure to catch his undershorts too. Stepping out of his pants, he kicked them to the side, then with deft hands, he had the other man's pants open and pushed them down before giving D'ean a chance to react.

"No brakes tonight, D'ean. We're not in Kansas and here, brother and brother making love to one another is easily and readily accepted." He pulled D'ean to him, kissing him and rubbing against him, feeling the blood begin to fill his cock.

So fast, Sam moved so fast Dean's head was spinning. He'd wanted to give Sam some pleasure but hadn't intended on getting any himself, not really. But here he was naked, standing there with Sam plastered against him, their bodies slip-sliding against each other because of the oil, his temperature rising by the minute. He let Sam kiss him, allowed his tongue inside his mouth, and engaged it, even as he fought a battle inside. As Sam's cock brushed his, then was pressed into his belly, a shudder of need went through him.

Sam felt the ripple that ran through his brother's muscles and felt the beginning of D'ean's cock hardening against him. He had never felt such a flaming desire inside him. Not with Selina. Not with B'tan. B'tan and he had tried for this, but the spark between them just never seemed to get beyond friendship.

Dean tugged Sam toward the bed, speaking between kisses. "Our dad would have put a bullet through my brain for this." Even that image in his head, his dad disappointed, angry... none of it put out these fires that Sam so easily started.

"And our dad, here, he would have been so proud. Both of us dragonriders, protectors of Pern and her people. He might have been as shocked as everyone else I ended up with a queen, but us together? You dragon flying my dragon? Merith will be rich with eggs when Ithiel flies her. We'll help save Pern that way too. Yeah, he would be bursting with pride," Sam said, his eyes glowing at that thought. What he had been, a kitchen drudge beaten into submission by S'rance's daily torment, his father wouldn't have been proud, he was certain. But this? Yes, he knew in his heart his father would be proud he and D'ean were helping to save a world, side-by-side.

Dean sat heavily down on the side of the bed, his arms sliding down Sam's body, over his ass and down to encircle his thighs as Dean drew him him between his legs and kissed his hip, moving his mouth back and forth. "If it's wrong... why does it feel like this?" His heart was beating so fucking fast he thought it might explode. Was it the element of wrongness? Was it the dragons? Or was it just ... was this for real?

"Maybe because it isn't wrong," Sam said, running his fingers through D'ean's hair and down and over his shoulders.

"You never get that spike of adrenalin... a thrill when you do something wrong... steal a cookie?"

"No, mostly just guilt," Sam said.

Dean didn't have any of the answers, but he imagined their dad the way Sam said, proud of them. Well, that version of John Winchester might have been. Pulling back a little though he moved his hands up and down the backs of Sam's thighs and ass, he studied Sam's mostly erect cock.

{How hard can this be? Maybe I should have consulted one of those brothers.}

Ithiel informed Sam that D'ean wasn't entirely sure what to do, or rather the best way to do it.

{Yeah, well me neither,} Sam answered the dragon, amused.

He blew a warm breath across Sam's cock, then grasping it gently, he moved his half open mouth over it, back and forth, learning Sam's shape.

Sam shivered at D'ean's breath whispering over his erection. When D'ean's hot mouth touched the head of his cock, he thought his knees were going to give out and the sudden rush of pleasure He almost bucked into D'ean's mouth, barely managing to hold back.

"You, uh, you better hold my hips," Sam said in between small mews of pleasure, "or you're going to get to taste a lot more of me all at once. Maybe...maybe pull me closer?"

{Merith, Ithiel, think you could maybe get some advice from...no never mind,} Sam thought to them, utterly embarassed at almost asking them to get someone's advice about how to make love to another man. They'd figure it out. Dean was doing fine, by the egg, he was doing just fine.

"That feels so good," Sam murmured as Dean's mouth explored his cock.

"I can see that," Dean said smugly, smiling against Sam's now rock hard erection. Looking up, he grabbed him by the hips and pulled him down onto the bed. "Spread 'em." He was done being shy and tentative about this.

Sam almost gasped when D'ean's mouth and tongue left his cock. A small yelp of surprise escaped him when he suddenly found himself on the bed. He wasn't entirely certain what D'ean had in mind, but if he didn't get some pressure back on his cock and soon, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. Literally.

He spread his legs and watched D'ean lustfully and with great anticipation. "My dick's getting cold," Sam said teasingly.

"Let's see if we can rectify that." Crawling in between Sam's legs, Dean shoved his arms under and over Sam's thighs, lifting him slightly. His gaze locked with Sam's for one long, heated moment, and then he was guiding Sam's cock to his mouth. He licked him from base to crown, then did it again, this time pulsing the flat of his tongue under Sam's cock and dragging it up the ridge. "Taste sweet... even here," he announced, before opening up his mouth and sucking on Sam's crown.

A loud groan escaped Sam at D'ean's focused his attention on his cock, his hands slapping the mattress then fisting the sheets in his hands. "Feck! By the first dragon, D'ean!"

Sam would have pushed in deeper if D'ean wasn't holding his hips. As it was he made what tiny thrusts he could, moaning with each caress of the man's hot tongue

Dean sucked and swirled his tongue, never taking more than Sam's crown inside, teasing... tasting, then he pulled off. Sam was caught between complaint and pleasure as he moaned. This time Dean touched the tip of his tongue to Sam's slit, making a low sound as he licked off a bead of come... just for him. Pressing a little harder against Sam's cock, he started licking right under his sensitive head, ocasionally letting his tongue slide over it, but mostly whipping up Sam's need, his desire, and he knew from the way Sam tried to buck, he was getting to him.

Sam hadn't expected it to feel like this. To feel this good. He didn't think he had ever been so hard in his life and he wanted more than just his head teased and touched. He wanted to push into that mouth, that hot tempting mouth behind those beautiful lips. Just barely he could touch D'ean's hair and raked his fingers through it.

"So fecking good, D'ean," he murmured. "So good."

{{You are torturing Sam.}}

{Oh, tell Merith I'm not... he's just so fucking impatient. You don't have sex in three minutes, unless three minutes are all you got.} As Dean answered Ithiel, he knew Sam hadn't had a good experience, or maybe he had with Selina, he wasn't sure. But if neither Selina nor Sam had known how to go about making pleasure last, then this was the first time, and Dean was going to show him.

Looking up, he locked gazes with Sam. "You want me to take you in my mouth, suck hard... you want to fuck my mouth, don't you?" He didn't even need Sam's answer. "Won't happen... not until you want it <i>ten times more</i>," he whispered the velvet threat and lowered his head again.

Sam moaned and bucked what little he could when Dean went back down on him. Merith passed along Dean's comment to him. He was not being impatient, he was just used to ...everything being taking away if he didn't get what he wanted right away, before S'rance found out. S'rance had walked in on him and Selina a couple times or stood pounding on the door outside, yelling at them. He didn't want S'rance screwing this up and he couldn't remember if they had barred the door but he didn't think they had.

Dean was relentless, holding Sam down, sucking first one side of his sac, then the other. Pulsing his tongue agains the seam, then finding the sensitive spot between his sack and cock, and licking and sucking. By the time he made his way up Sam's cock again, it was wet... so fucking wet with precum. He licked it off, one swipe of is tongue at a time, then grasping the base of his cock, took his head inside his mouth.

Drenched in sweat, Sam made sounds he didn't think he could make. Surely he was at the ten times worse level by now, because fecking that mouth was just about all he could think of. He had never felt this desperate or needy. The pleasure was bordering on pain. With Dean's hand on his cock now, he didn't care if Dean brought him off by hand or by letting him go so he could push himself deep into that mouth, just so long as Dean let him come.

Dean sucked lightly, squeezing and slightly twisting his wrist... giving Sam as much pressure as he needd there, but still teasing him with his mouth. Each time he made as if to pull off Sam, he practically felt his lover's... his brother's... panic, and started to suck again.

"Ten times more," Sam panted, practically whined. "Promise. Please, D'ean," Sam begged. He swore he was getting light headed because all the blood was staying down near his cock and nothing was geting sent up to his brain.

Dean pulled off with a wet popping sound. "Ten times? Yeah? Come on Sammy, fuck my mouth." Opening wide, he took almost all of Sam in, letting his cock bottom out in the back of his throat. He started to suck hard, then pulling out just a little, holding Sam's hips, he rolled them over, arm muscle's bulging as he initially had to hold Sam's weight off him until Sam balanced himself on his knees, straddling Dean's head now under him. Sucking on Sam, he invited him to do what he wanted, to get what he needed out of this.

When D'ean released his cock, he wanted to whimper, until D'ean's words soaked into his lust-filled brain. His moan was obscene as D'ean finally wrapped his mouth over Sam's steel hard cock and began to suck. He was ill-prepared when he suddenly found himself on top of D'ean and it took a moment to gain his balance. Feeling D'ean's strength holding him there made him impossibly hotter. Practially as soon as he realized he wasn't being held back anymore he began to thrust into that hot mouth.

"Shards," Sam murmured. Seeing D'ean below him, his dick buried in the man's mouth sent another shockewave of pleasure through him. He had never imagined such a position or what it was doing to him. He began to pump in and out, the sucking D'ean was doing sending shivers through him. He didn't want this to end, he didn't want to come because then...maybe it would all just be a dream.

He fought against his carnal desires to fuck wildly into the handsome man's hot mouth. Instead he kept a slower pace than he thought he might ever manage, but the need was growing so desperate in him. As soon as he wavered even a little, he was lost and knew it. He did what D'ean asked him, told him to. He fucked D'ean's mouth until there was just no holding back. He felt his balls tighten until suddenly the release came and he screamed D'ean's name as he poured his seed into the man's mouth.

Just as he felt Sam start to climax, Dean rolled them over one more time. He had no intention of choking, not when he'd done so well so far. He kept sucking, lightly milking every last bit from Sam, swallowing, even catching what dripped down Sam's shaft. Slowly, he eased off Sam's cock, licking his lips and crawling up Sam's body. "You're one lucky bastard?" He grinned at Sam's tired expression. "Cause I don't seem to have a gag reflex," he smirked.

"Yeah, you losing your meal might have put a damper in our evening," Sam chuckled, still panting. "That was fecking amazing," he said, combing his fingers through D'ean's hair. He pulled D'ean down for a kiss. He was a little startled at the different taste in his brother's mouth and realized it was him. His seed. D'ean had taken him in, had swallowed everything he had given. Sam hugged him close as he wrapped one leg over D'ean's and felt the older man's own hard need press against him. The way the man made him feel was just amazing. Kissing D'ean deeper, he ran his hands over the solid muscles across the man's back. Still catching his breath he had to come up for air a lot sooner than he wanted to. He ran his hands down to D'ean's ass and squeezed and kneaded.

"Jesus," Dean hissed. It was too fucking hard to keep denying the pleasure he was getting out of this.

"So one of us is taken care of," Sam said with a contented smile. He wrapped his other leg around D'ean, moved his hands to Dean's waist and arched against him, rubbing himself against the stiff erection caught between them. "It's your turn. Name your pleasure, dragonrider."

Groaning at the slight relief Sam was giving his aching cock, Dean brushed the hair off his forehead and smiled. "My pleasure is... your pleasure." He had trouble speaking... trouble thinking when Sam was moving against him like that. "Stop... stop Sammy. Feels good... too fucking good, but stop." Reaching for Sam's legs, he made Sam release him, then rolled onto his side, not allowing too much space between them. He kissed him lightly, and put an arm over him, allowing their chests to touch. "Just like this... it's fine. Don't worry." When he saw the frown, he dipped his head forward and sucked Sam's lower lip into his mouth, distracting him.

Feeling D'ean suck and nibble on his lip, their still oiled and sweaty chests pressed against one another, it seemed so right and comfortable. Even so he pulled back from the kiss. He was more than ready to fall asleep in the man's arms, but he couldn't. With a soft groan of complaint he pushed himself out of bed and to his feet. D'ean wouldn't let him touch him, not in that way, because they were brothers and it went against his beliefs. At this point, if all D'ean said was true, he knew his brother had come to find him, to try to take him home to Kansas. He had risked everything for his brother. He wanted to make sure Sam was happy and had done what he had to to make Sam happy, but it wasn't the sort of love Sam really wanted. He supposed he was being selfish, wanting more, wanting it all, wanting D'ean to be his and only his. It meant a lot to him that D'ean given him such pleasure, but it just wasn't right or fair. He took hold of Dean's hand and pulled him upright.

"You, into the privy. If you...if it's not your way for me to touch you, then please, take care of it yourself. The blueness, it's uncomfortable, it hurts, and I don't want you to hurt because of me. It would make me happy for you to find your release. If I can't give it to you, then give it to yourself." Sam tugged him out of bed and nudged him toward the privy. "Go. No argument."

"Sam..." Dean sighed, and started to walk toward the bathroom, mumbling under his breath. "Not like I don't get blue balls <i>all the time.</i> If I had to find a private place all the time..." He pushed the door mostly shut.

A few minutes later, he'd rubbed his palm on his chest and was using the oil as a lube, his fist moving rythmically up and down his hard shaft. Eyes closed, he started to breath faster, puffs of air coming out from between his parted lips. He squeezed a little harder to the erotic images flitting through his mind, biting his lower lip at the ones that sent particularly intense waves of pleasure through him.

{{Mine imagines Pamela... Susie... Cassie... but keeps returning to Sam, no matter what he does.}} There was a smirk in Ithiel's voice, he'd learned it from Dean. {{Sam, Sam, Jenna... Sam}}

Sam was pleased by Ithiel's words, that Dean was at least thinking of him. He debated about staying, but it was late and Merith and Ithiel were comfortable. He would pursue his theory in the morning. He wished D'ean would let him make love to him, but it wasn't going to happen. D'ean sent such fire through him, but if D'ean couldn't get past his prudish beliefs then maybe it would always be this way. Sam couldn't help the small bit of hurt he felt. As if he wasn't man enough to be able to please his brother.

Dean felt his balls drawing up tight against his body, leaned forward a little and then groaned as he came to the word "Sam" pulsing in his mind. Ropes of come splattered the wall and it took him more than the usual time to come back to his senses.

Cleaning up, he walked back out. "Nothing weirder than being ordered to go beat off, just for the record, Sammy."

Sam settled back into bed and held the sheet up for D'ean to crawl under. "Weird seems to be our catch phrase. Now you don't have any excuse not to lay close to me. C'mon. I'm tired. I know you are too, and both the dragons are practically asleep."

Dean got in, and spooned up behind Sam, whispered against his ear. "I never made any excuses. G'nite Sam." He dropped a kiss on the side of his neck and then pulled him just a little closer.

* * *

The sun had been up for only a short while when Sam slowly drifted awake. D'ean was still spooned up against him, his arm resting comfortably around his waist. He laid there for a few minutes enjoying the feel of D'ean pressed against him, the lingering smell of sex and sweet oil and the scent of them, together. He remembered D'ean had said he liked 'morning surprises,' but after last night, Sam didn't think it would please the man to have Sam give him that surprise. He crawled out of bed without waking his brother, then leaned over D'ean and planted a light kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you later," he whispered.

After slipping into his riding pants he picked up his shirt and headed for the door.

{Merith, get Ithiel breakfast then meet me back in the weyr. I'm going to bathe then I want to take a short trip.}

{{You like to get up too early, my Impressed.}}

{{C'mon, lazy. I'll see you in the weyr in a few.}

{{f you insist,}} Merith said, mentally yawning and stretching her wings.

Sam hurried down to his weyr, giving those he passed a cursory greeting. The last thing he wanted was to run into S'rance. He was releived to reach his home unaccosted. Quickly shedding his clothes, he got into the pool and after a few strokes back and forth across it, he washed himself free of the oil, dried off and redressed. By the time Merith settled onto the ledge, he had her riding harness ready.

{{Where are we going, my Impressed?}}

{To test my theory and see if what D'ean said is true.}

{{And how are we going to do that?}}

{We're going to go back five turns in time and see if anyone knows me.}

{{I think I might be a bit obvious five turns ago.}}

Sam chuckled as he climbed on her back. {You think?}

Since he didn't know how accurate his memory might be if indeed the memories were false, he chose a time he was certain of, a time when the stars and planets visible in the night sky would be in a specific location. Once Merith acknowledge the image in his mind, they blinked between, appearing over the creek he knew so well. The four hour walk would make it daybreak by the time he reached the Ista hold, but also minimized any chance of Merith being seen. He also knew it would be bad if he ran into his younger self, but he had never gone herb hunting before daybreak. He changed out of his leathers into regular clothes and headed down the coast.

{Stay out of sight,} he cautioned Merith.

{{Yes, yes. You stay clear of any predators. There is a reason people are not out at night.}}

{I will call if I get in trouble.}

*

He arrived at the hold soon after daybreak. The door had been unbarred and he could smell breakfast cooking. He suddenly wished he had thought to grab something to eat before they had left this morning. And klah sounded very good at the moment. Slipping in the back way, he headed to the kitchen, walking in as if he were suppose to be there. Jeanda, headwoman of the kitchen, scowled at him.

"Might I ask who you are and what you are doing here?" she demanded, thumping a wooden spoon in her hand.

Sam knew Jeanda well and even though he almost hoped she wouldn't know him, it was still a surprise when she didn't.

"I'm from the Weyr, delivering a message but I left before I had a chance to eat," Sam said. "I was hoping I might get a cup of klah?"

After a long glare from her, she poured him a cup of klah and handed him some warm bread smeared with a fruit spread. "There, now be on your way. We've work to do."

Sam gratefully took the food. "Uh, have we ...do you know me?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Studying him a moment she shook her head. "Maybe you've seen me at a gather," she said. "Now, be on your way. I've work to do."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and left the kitchen making his way toward the healer. The healer would surely know him if anyone would. Finishing off his breakfast as he walked, he headed through the dining hall. Turning a corner he came face to face with S'rance. No, he amended. Serance. He stared a little wide-eyed at the man. "Pardon me, Lord Holder."

Serance's cool blue eyes looked over Sam, obviously measuring him, but there was no recognition in his eyes. "I know everyone in my hold. You are not one of mine. Who are you?"

Sam stared dumb-founded for a moment.

"Are you deaf?" Serance demanded.

"No, sir, I'm from the Weyr. A dragon is headed to High Reaches where there are some rare herbs. Healer Jontae sent me to check with Healer Leandra to see if her supplies were low and had need of any."

The look of distaste that crossed his face when Sam identified himself as being from the Weyr was clear. He dismissed Sam with a wave. "Then be on your way and return to your parasites."

Giving a small bow, Sam hurried down the corridor. He could feel Serance's eyes following him. As soon as he was around the corner, he blew the air from his lungs. D'ean was telling the truth. His memories had been altered. Five turns past, he had not been part of Ista Hold.

He finished off his klah and headed to what had been his room. Opening the door, he found the room bare. He took down a glow from the hall and walked in. He studied the walls he knew so intimately, saw marks and scrapes a few of which he recalled making, but one in particular, one he had made three turns prior a place where the stone was sharp and he had run into it, leaving a scar on his hip, a scar he still bore. He had broken the sharp edge off with a chisel. But that sharp edge was already broken, an old roughened spot on the wall. Running his fingers over it briefly he felt anger flare inside of him. His life was a lie. All the things he remembered Serance having put him through, it was false. Serance's long obsession with him, untrue.

"Bastards. If you were going to bring me here and give me a lifetime of memories, why did you have to make them so fecking--fucking miserable," Sam muttered to the walls. He spun on his heels. He had seen enough. He quickly made his way out of the hold. As soon as the hold was out of sight, he called for Merith.

{Home, girl.}

{{Did you find what you were seeking?}} Merith asked, sensing his deep upset.

{Yeah. Get us out of here.}

***

"C'mon man, it's what, a fucking five minute flight? If I can do it, why can't you?" Dean demanded, frustrated. He slung the sack of stuff he'd brought onto the ground. "Didn't you say you wanted to be friends... friends drive friends ... give rides to friends."

"I asked if you wanted to break bread and have some wine," M'rick countered, raising an eyebrow. "There's only one type of ride I'm interested in, bronzerider."

{{He's a greenrider.}}

{I know that! What's with the useless advice today?}

"Yeah and what's that?" Dean frowned. What the hell was with this people, you'd think he was asking for a huge favor. "Can't we break bread at Bendon Hold? Come on dude, gimme a break."

"I'll give you something alright," M'rick gave him a smile, and put is hand on Dean's back. "Come on. Let me show you something."

{{D'ean, he's a greenrider, he...}}

{I KNOW what the fuck he is, he's got a dragon, it flies... that's what matters.}

He started walking with M'rick. "Taking that as a yes, right? He's on your ledge."

***

Sam had decided not to return to Ista right away and took Merith out for a long flight. He wanted time to think though mostly he fumed, furious at those who had done this to him. Everything he knew was a lie.

{{Not everything,}} Merith pointed out. {{I am truth. Pern is truth. Thread is truth.}}

{You know what I mean. My life, everything I remember before I impressed with you, it's all fake. I don't remember my own brother. I don't remember growing up with him. I don't remember Kansas. I don't know how Mom and Dad really died. D'ean came after me. Do I have a wife? Do I have kids? Can I go home?}

Merith was quiet for a handful of beats of her wings. {{You wish to go home?}}

He felt her sudden fear and stabbing loss at the mere thought of losing him. Stroking her neck he reassured her. {I would never leave you. But I do want to remember.}

{{If you remember, then you too will not wish to fly your brother.}}

Sam didn't like that idea. He was falling in love with D'ean. Shards, he did love him. If he regained his memories would he still? D'ean had said he would beat the 'crap' out of him, punch him for making such 'moves' on him, for being intimate with him. He didn't want that. What if he regained his memories and was...disgusted...by what he and D'ean had done? But what was so terribly wrong with it? Brothers and sisters, that was generally a bad idea because they sometimes, more often than was common, had children that were sickly in some way. Generally, the dragonriders tried to keep a relationship of that type from forming, but female riders were almost non-existent so that was pretty easy. Two brothers, they couldn't have children, though they might take on fosters. Children were raised together so sibling bonds were fluid anyhow. The only time it really counted was among the Lord Holders for the purpose of inheritance. What was wrong with brothers loving each other, damnit?

{{That is one of his words that you use occasionally, even before he came into your life. You remember some.}}

{Not enough,} Sam shot back.

Merith circled lazily above the land. {{No need to snap. Your memories are still there. They are buried deeply but I can sense them. I have always known they were there. I have tried to tell you, but you never understood. A few others are like you. Memories deeply buried. New to this world.}}

{You can tell?} he asked, shocked.

{{Sometimes. For those who have dragons, their impressed can always tell. We have discussed it. It is only since the Illness, after bringing others from the past forward failed, that the New began to appear. Not all become one with dragons.}}

{So these scrolls bring people here to help repopulate, not just impress.}

{{So it would seem.}}

{Do you have any idea who is doing this?} Sam asked, hopeful

{{No. We only know some people are New.}} She paused in her thoughts and began almost chortling. {{We had best return. M'rick is trying to convince D'ean to fly him. D'ean does not seem to understand. Ithiel promises D'ean is not slow, but sometimes I wonder.}}

{Scorch it! Get us to M'rick's ledge and tell his Shandrath to tell him D'ean is not available! D'ean will most likely punch him for the attempt to fly him. He's not use to being intimate with men. And by the First Egg, D'ean is <i>mine!</i>}

*

"So... bronzerider D'ean, do you like it?"

Dean looked at M'rick. "Like what?"

"My weyr?"

{I think there might be something wrong with this guy.}

{{He's a--}}

{Greenrider, I fucking know that.} Dean looked around. There seemed to be more funiture and things, more furs than in his weyr or Sam's. "Art lover, heh. Can we get going?"

M'rick sauntered over, "Oh yes, I was counting on it."

Dean leaned away, looking at him strangely.

Merith pulled her wings back as she settled onto the green dragon's rather cramped ledge, at least cramped for a dragon of her size. Sam was off Merith before she had barely touched down. He rushed in, knowing full well he was commiting a challengeable offense by bringing Merith's to M'rick weyr without his leave.

"M'rick, by the egg, he isn't used to being approached by men for sex." He pulled D'ean back, placing himself between M'rick and his brother, fearing D'ean would lash out at the green rider. "I sincerely apologize for my uninvited entrance into your weyr, but this is all still very new to D'ean. At his hold, he favored women. I am his first male companion." Sam paused, straightening. "And I will be his only companion, at least for now. I'm am certain he is flattered by your attentions, but he is taken." Sam turned to D'ean. "Is this not correct?"

Dean opened his mouth but was cut off by M'rick.

"With all due respect Sam, he came to my weyr to share some wine, and wanted to 'get going.' Isn't that right D'ean?"

"Well..." he pointed at each of them twice as he thought this through. "Whoa whoa whoa... I do <i>not</i> have two <i>men</i> fighting over me."

{{A greenrider and a goldrider, it makes perfect sense.}}

"A green... what the fuck does that have to do with..." Dean took a few steps away from M'rick. "Sorry, I don't fly that way. I just wanted a ride... on your dragon... I mean your real dragon. Fuck," he looked at Sam and then at the door.

"M'rick, please, forgive the misunderstanding. He is a newly impressed rider with an adult dragon and has had no chance to learn our ways. Ithiel is too injured yet to fly."

{{He wanted to go to Benden,}} Ithiel told Sam.

"He only wanted to fly to Benden. He didn't realize you were interested in more than that." Sam hesitated and finally said, "I would be willing to make it up to you, to correct this misunderstanding." For D'ean he would do that, even though he knew the ramifications if it got out. And greens were notorious gossips. Most worrisome would be the way S'rance would use it against him.

{{No.}} Merith said firmly. {{That is unacceptable.}} She conveyed her displeasure to the green dragon. {{A queen's rider does not fly a green!}}
M'rick looked over at D'ean. "If this is true, then..." he motioned to the door. "There are other men in the sea."

"Damned <i>straight</i>." Dean choked, "you know what I mean."

{{I am sure he does not,}} Ithiel supplied.

"I give up. I'm... I'm with him," he pointed at Sam. "C'mon darlin' let's get going while the going's good."

{{Kansas humor,}} Ithiel sighed to Merith and Sam. {{It takes getting used to.}}

"Thank you M'rick. You are an honorable man and noble rider. I appreciate your understanding." He kissed M'rick lightly on the cheek. Turning to D'ean, he said, "Merith and I will fly you to Benden." He waved D'ean toward the black queen.

Dean just gave the guy a nod. "I'm not doing that," he said about the kissing, and walked out to the ledge. By the time Sam came out there, Merith had gotten an earful of Dean's complaints about how he'd never had trouble with men hitting on him and things were upside down, did they think he was gay? Shouldn't it be obvious he wasn't? And then Sam came out and memories of sucking him off had him shutting up. He hooked his sack onto Merith's saddle, then took a step back as he tried to get the courage to get on.

He looked at Sam. "You'll fly low?" He cleared his throat, then wiped his brow. "Real low?"

"D'ean," Sam sighed, "you are a bronze rider. They fly the highest of all the dragons. You are going to have to come to terms with this fear of heights. It will be better when you have Ithiel beneath you, reassuring you. Flying high is safer than flying low. If you are high and were to become unseated, your dragon has time to go between and catch you. If you are flying low, that is not possible."

He motioned D'ean to climb up so he would be in front of Sam and Sam could hold onto him.

Once D'ean had mounted Merith, Sam followed, and showed D'ean how to wrap his hands in the straps and adjusted the stirrups to fit him, though little adjustment was needed. Sam wrapped one arm around his waist. "Once we are airborne, I will have Merith go between and we will be up very high. For me, it is more comforting to be high. The distance is less intimidating and you find this to be the case for you as well. We'll stay only a minute, then we'll go to Benden and she will arrive very low, okay? We'll ease you into getting use to being high, getting use to flying." Sam kissed D'ean on the neck. "Trust me bronze rider. I would never let anything hurt you. I would never let you fall. Remember not to panic when we go between. We'll be there only a moment."

{Let's go, Merith,} Sam told her.

"Why is it everytime someone calls me bronze rider, it's followed by me getting hit on?" Dean tensed, leaned back into Sam and tried to ignore the illogical fear that grasped him. His lips were pressed together so tightly, they were white. Turning his head, he looked at Sam and tried to give a tight smile, then nodded.

"Because it's a term of respect," Sam said. He held D'ean tightly against him as Merith took to the air. She was barely away from the ledge when she went between and re-appeared high above Ista. The extinct volcano was clearly seen in outline as was the farmed land not far from the hold. The blue waters of the sea sparkled in the sunshine, their height making the sea look almost as if it were only sparkly cloth wrinkled with texture. Sam easily spotted the area where he knew the creek was. This was actually a little higher than the dragons typically flew, but D'ean didn't need to know that. It might help then when he discovered he didn't have to fly quite so high in the future.

Still gripping the straps, Dean put his hand over Sam's across his chest and waist, had a death grip on him. He was trying hard not to give any other signs of his fear. Talk about bad luck... he'd avoided planes for so long in his life, being stuck on one only once, and now this... a place where he was expected to do this all the time.

Merith beat her wings, angling to catch an updraft but made certain she kept herself as level as possible, and kept the ride as smooth as she could.

"Do you want to take a moment to look around and see your new home, or are you ready to go to Benden? The trip between will be slightly longer."

"Sightseeing? That would be a 'no'," he quickly answered, taking in the sight, but knowing he'd be a helluva lot better off if he didn't. It was a long long way down, and all they had holding em up was a pair of dragon wings, and if that didn't sound nuts... "Wish I'd taken M'rick up on that drink." Realizing he was pushing against Sam so hard it had to be painful, or uncomfortable, he tried to pull forward slightly, muttering an apology.

He was doing fine, better than he thought, when an updraft of wind had him digging his other hand into Sam's thigh and yelling. "Just get us there, now."

Sam couldn't help but feel some sympathy for his brother, but facts were facts. He had to get over his fear. He really had done well, all things considered, though Sam suspected he might have some bruises on his arm and thigh from D'ean's death grip.

Picturing Benden in his mind, he direct Merith to arrive fairly low. In two breaths and a brief eternity in the dark cold of between, they were there. Merith circled lazily, bugling a greeting to some of the other dragons nearby.

"Okay, so why did you want to come here and where exactly did you want to go?" Sam asked.

Dean was breathing hard, trying to get used to the height, telling himself it was safe, that they weren't about to fall, when Sam spoke. "You... ah, expect me to talk up here?" Dean licked his lips. "I heard stuff, things that make me think they've got a problem. The kind of problem we use the salt lines at the door for."

Concentrating on not shouting as they descended, Dean told Sam that he'd heard talk at the weyr that a family had been killed by their six turn old daughter. That while the girl was leaving her house someone had run after her and thrown a knife that stuck into her leg and she never even stopped walking. "Can we land now. Please?"

Sam had to bite back his laugh at the pleading note in D'ean's voice. "Of course."

Merith flew so low her wings barely had enough space to sweep through the air as she circled half way around the bowl, finally settling near the large entrance. She stopped so gingerly and gracefully, it nearly amazed Sam.

{Show off,} Sam teased her.

{{Of course. We have an audience.}}

As soon as Merith touched down, Sam disengaged D'ean's death grip on him and jumped down with practised ease, then turned to aid D'ean.

Once both feet were firmly on the ground, Dean leaned against the dragon for a sec. "Thanks, Merith. Don't tell Ithiel." When his own dragon informed Dean that he'd been monitoring the whole time, and knew how hard his heart had been beating and how near to screaming he'd been, he groaned. "Dad would have hated it here, can't even keep a secret."

As Merith had noted, dragonriders were already gathering. Merith and Sam fought thread, but only at their own weyr, as was true of all the queens. K'tol was a bit possessive of the young queen and her rider and Sam always suspected he was afraid Sam would leave with Merith because of S'rance, or perhaps find a man that attempted to woo Sam to another weyr. If Merith had not fallen so deeply in love with Ithiel, Sam probably would have switched weyrs as Merith got closer to maturity and rising. Any of the weyrs would have greedily welcomed him. While there was currently great envy of Ista, Merith was Istan born. Had Sam relocated, that envy may have easily turned into rivalry, something Pern could not afford. Giving Merith's first clutch to Ista would ease any ill feelings if he chose to relocate.

"Greetings, Sam of Ista Weyr," a tall dark haired woman, gray threading her long locks, greeted him warmly, trying hard to keep her eyes on Sam instead of looking at the black dragon nearby. "To what do we owe this rare honor?"

Sam gave her a slight bow. "Greetings Weyrwoman Trysta." He turned as an older, muscular man arrived at her side. "Weyrleader R'thion."

"Dragonrider," R'thion rumbled. "I hear tell your queen rose."

"Yes, Weyrleader. Not that long ago. Curanth flew her."

"He's a fine dragon, strong and healthy," R'thion said but there was a hint of distaste in his eyes.

The man would never come right out and say what everyone knew. S'rance's arrogance put that of any dragonrider to shame. If he had been arrogant as Lord Holder, he was insufferable as a dragonrider. His dragon, as was wont to happen, reflected some of his characteristics. Still, there was no denying S'rance gave his all when fighting thread and that was truly all that mattered. With a tight smile, Sam nodded, "Yes."

"'T'is true that she rose at night?" a rider asked.

"She was quite the tease. I had no idea until she actually rose. She blooded her kills without any need of control from me. We had been away from the weyr all day so the males did not know she was in heat until she was already up and taunting. She even drew Nimarath away from his queen."

"Rumor says she was injured during the mating," another rider said.

Sam didn't answer at first then finally nodded. "Yes. Curanth's rider had poor control over him."

"A dragon would never hurt a queen," R'thion said, his face darkening.

"Curanth takes after his rider," Sam said simply.

R'thion laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You would be welcome here," he said sincerely. "None of the Weyrs can deny the hope that K'tol will permit bronzes outside of Ista the chance to fly her. Any of the weyrs would welcome you." His smile was genuine, as was his concern.

"Thank you. With any luck Merith will lay a queen egg and K'tol has told me that if an Istan were to impress the new queen, lots would be drawn to place that queen in another weyr."

Trysta stepped forward. "But what of the next time Merith rises? Surely he would not permit that bronze to try to fly her again."

"Ithiel will win her next time. I have no doubt of that," Sam said confidently.

A hush fell over the murmuring crowd.

"It is rumored" Trysta said, "that Ithiel was badly wounded and his rider dead. It is said too that he took another rider, impressed another rider, a rider rather unlike most men."

Sam laughed and pulled D'ean forward by his side. "Ithiel will heal, but yes, D'ean definitely has his own ways. Werywoman, Weryleader, this is the man who tried to save B'tan's life. B'tan begged Ithiel to stay and take D'ean in his stead. Ithiel did. This is Ithiel's new rider and my companion, D'ean. He was holdless by choice and those he lived with were unfamiliar with the ways of the weyr and hold. He is still learning these things. D'ean, this is Werywoman Trysta and Weyrleader R'thion."

"Hey." He could have killed Sam. If he hadn't said anything, they'd be on their way by now, but no, now he had to make nice. At least these people seemed nice, seemed to care about Sam maybe more than K'tol and that group. Though he could see the position K'tol was in, it still rankled Dean that K'tol had warned him to stay away from S'rance and told him that he'd be found in the wrong if anything happened to the brutal bronzerider, even after what S'rance had done not once, but twice. They should care about their next clutch, but they ought to also have taken care of their queen rider.

Shaking off those serious thoughts he started answering questions about where he'd been when B'tan fell, how he'd re-impressed, and how Ithiel was doing. Sometimes when he didn't understand a question or answered it a particular way, there was laughter or confusion, but Sam or Ithiel or one of the people around him would eventually lead him in the right direction.

They were taken inside and a few goblets of wine were shared. Dean kept probing about the murders until someone mentioned it was at Benden Hold, not at the weyr. Great... that must mean another ride. His eyes briefly met Sam's and he swore he saw amusement in his brother's.

A few hours later, they were finally at the hold. R'thion had sent one of his own bronzeriders along, in order to ensure they were welcome and so that there was no question but that his weyr was looking to protect the people of the hold as well. Dean knew the weyrleader hadn't known what to make of Dean's claim that the girl had a disease that made her feel nothing and that she'd kill again unless they were able to either cure her or... Yet the rumors Dean had brought had been verified, hence they had the 'escort.'

At Benden Hold they were directed to a small community of houses and small growing yards. The houses had been abandoned after the murders, and the child was said to be lurking somewhere in the area. Guards had kept a close watch to make sure she did not leave the area, but several men who'd gone in had never come back.

"Right, this is the end of the road for you two," Dean told the two men. Seeing the stubborn angle of Sam's chin, he raised a finger. "No arguing, it's too dangerous. In fact I'd rather you wait at the weyr."

"No. I'm not leaving," Sam said firmly. He gave a nod to their escort. "We'll be back once the problem is handled, one way or another."

The bronzerider from Benden Weyr was obviously reluctant but finally headed to the hold.

Turning back to D'ean, Sam crossed his arms and glared at his brother. "We're in this together or you're not going in at all. So what are we up against? What sort of monster convinces a child to kill her family? What protection do I need against it and how do you plan to kill it?"

"Sam..."

"No! I'm coming, and that's final. You try to leave me out here, and I'll just follow you in. Weaponless. Not knowing what I'm going up against. So. You going to tell me what we're going up against or shall I walk in and find out for myself?"

He didn't like it, not at all, but he could see that Pern Sam was as stubborn, if not more stubborn as the Sam he'd grown up with. "Shouldn't you be a bit more responsible with your life, you know, being the 'hope of Pern'?" Dean shot back

"I don't plan on dying today," Sam answered.

Seeing that he didn't have a choice, he started explaining about demons inhabiting other peoples' bodies and the evil that they could do, giving examples out of their own lives and noting that their tattoos would protect them from being taken over. "You still want to do this?"

He listened to D'ean tell him about things that they had done that he didn't remember. "Yeah. I want to do this. It's what we do apparently. So how do we kill this thing? What is a 'demon' anyhow?"

"A demon is an evil spirit... not exactly, but... it's pure evil and doesn't have a body usually, so it hijacks one." Upon Ithiel's request, Dean clarified, "It steals a body, like this child's. As for how to kill it, that's where it gets complicated." Looking around, Dean tried to shake off the eeriness of the complete silence around them. "First of all, don't let her size fool you. If this girl's possessed, she can throw you across a room. You can hit her all you like but..." he shook his head. "Second, she can pin you against a wall, choke your life out of you, all without touching you. The way we beat that thing is we gotta get her trapped in something called a devil's trap. Then we send the demon to hell by exorcising the it.... it'll leave her body." He started walking. "We need to find a place where I can draw this trap on the ground or ceiling, and then trick her into stepping into or under it. Any ideas?"

Half of Dean's words didn't really make sense. "So a spirit it's...a life essence without a body to live in. It is super strong and can do things without touching you. Where is this 'hell'? What is it? How does making a demon exercise make it want to leave the body? And the little girl's life essence? Is it still there? Or has she gone between?"

As they started passing the first building, Dean grabbed Sam by his shirt and pulled him inside. He put a finger on his lips. "Listen."

From somewhere outside, they could hear a child's sing-songy voice, just the sort of voice that would make a normal person investigate. Voice lowered, Dean explained a little more, his eyes scanning past the window for signs of the girl. "The girl... she's probably in there, in her body," he nodded, "but I don't know if she'll survive." He glanced at Sam and saw his face fall. "Maybe she will."

He vowed he would do anything he could to try to make sure the girl survived. "If you need to draw this trap thing, would here work?" Sam asked. "I can probably get her to come in here. We can cover the drawing with straw from the mattresses to hide it. It will surely not expect this drawing since we do not know its kind here."

{Is my brother fucking nuts?} "Sure", Dean smiled, having no intention of letting Sam play bait, and having no idea that Ithiel was transmitting the question that needed no answer to the very subject of his question.

Getting down on the ground, he grabbed a chalkstone he'd been given after bothering the headwoman at Ista with descriptions of what he needed, and how it had to write on the ground. Course when the answer had been that they used 'chalk'... he'd felt stupid. "Let's hope I get this right. Usually double check my diagrams by looking in dad's journal," he said, starting to draw.

Sam went into the next room and dragged out a mattress, unlacing it to gain access to the straw. Deciding not to antagonize D'ean, nor let him know Ithiel had passed on D'ean's upset he said, "I thought I would simply stay in here and call for help. That would draw this spirit here, wouldn't it? It comes in and is trapped and then you can make it exercise and it will go to this hell place." Sam wondered what sort of exercises would scare away such a formidible creature. He couldn't imagine telling the thing to do a hundred situps would be effective, but he trusted that his brother knew what he was doing.

"That's a great idea Sam," Dean watched as he left the room and returned with the mattress, "on both counts." {Maybe he's sane after all.} Giving his brother a second look, just to be sure, Dean rushed through the diagram. When he finished, he stood and reviewed his handiwork, then nodded.

Once they were done, Dean asked, "is there any other way in? If not, maybe you and I can stage a fight in the room. She'll walk in the door, to get to us..." he pointed at the hidden trap, then nodded toward the room.

"There is a window, but it is barred closed to keep out any errant thread. She will have to come through the door, and straw on the floor is common enough, though it is more common in colder weather. Why do we need to fight? I can simply yell for help, that I've injured myself. You can hide in the next room, just in case. I wouldn't know what to do if it attacked you. I think it would be best if you stayed out of sight. Wouldn't it? Or would conflict draw it more readily than injury?"

"No difference, I thought it would be easier to make noise fighting than, you know... screaming like a girl." He winked and stepped back into the living room, and went to hide behind a curtained closet of sorts. From there, he would be able to see the girl walk in. She'd pass right by him and try to get to Sam, it was a solid plan.

"I will not scream like a girl," Sam growled. Once D'ean was concealed, he knocked over a piece of wooden furniture then sat on the ground and held his leg as if he injured it.

"Scorch it!" he shouted. "By the first egg! Hey! Can anyone hear me? I think I sprained my fecking ankle! Anyone?" he shouted.

Dean clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. {'By the first egg'... Sam said ... he shouted it.} Yeah he'd heard the phrase before, but it was funny every time, and especially when Sam was shouting it in a serious voice.

{{There are some thoughts you ought to keep to yourself, Mine.}}

Sam heard the little girl singing again. A pretty little blonde girl skipped into the doorway of the small cottage. "Are you okay?" she asked, her blue eyes big. "Oh, you're a dragonrider aren't you?"

Sam winced as he held his ankle. "Uh, hi. I twisted my ankle. A holder asked me to get something for him from out here. Yes, I'm visiting one of my friends." He hissed as he probed his ankle. "Do you think you could go up to the hold and ask for the healer?"

Good, thought Dean in approval. Instead of asking her to come in, his brother had made as if to send her away. That would definitely arouse less suspicion. He held his breath, hoping she'd walk in there.

"Can I ride on your dragon? Hasn't your dragon already called for help?" she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to another, and tugging on one of her long pig tails as she looked at Sam with crystal blue eyes.

"My dragon is up at the weyr. I was planning on staying here a few days and there isn't any room at the hold for my dragon. Yes, my dragon told them, but you can probably get there faster since they'll have to send someone to fetch a healer. If you go get the healer, I'll take you for a flight on my dragon." Obviously trying to keep hold of his patience he gave the little girl a strained smile. "Please?"

She danced around. "What's your name?"

Huffing in frustration, he gritted out politely, "Sam. What's your name?"

"Oh, you won't be needing that information, sweetie," she said in a completely unchildlike way as she crossed over the straw toward the room Sam was in.

Sam stared at her with shock, the voice far too mature for a girl barely six turns old.

Dean's heart lurched as he waited an eternity, it seemed, to find out if she'd be trapped.

She slammed against an invisible barrier and her expression changed to panic. "What's happening? What's happening?!!!!"

Dean walked out and kicked a chair toward her. "Why don't you sit your ass down."

She started to cry. "Sam, what's he doing?"

Dean walked behind her and grabbed some rope. "Don't make me tell you twice."

Sam stood up, brushing off his pants, feeling a moment of concern that they had maybe made a mistake. But D'ean could walk in and out of the 'trap' and the little girl couldn't. He had to trust his brother. Hiding his uncertainty, he said, "He's going to make you exercise so you don't hurt anyone again. He's going to send you away to someplace called hell."

She laughed and turned to Dean. "You're from my world. I'll make you a deal. Let me go and I'll make you whatever you want to be. Famous. Popular. Weyrleader. Make me a deal."

"Sorry sweetheart, I don't do deals. Not anymore," he said in a hard tone. One minute he was outside the trap, then next he was inside and had jabbed his elbow into her face.

She screamed like a child, but when he started to tie her down, the air stirred in the room. He felt a force pushing him back, and hit her again, a full on punch in the face, ignoring her tears. Then she started getting out of control, slamming her head into him.

"Fucking sonovabitch. Sam, get the wineskin from the bag and pour it on her," he snapped, pressing his knee into her chest so she'd sit.

Sam watched as D'ean beat up this child and it took everything in him not to stop his brother. He was so damned confused inside. It took a moment for D'ean's order to register and he moved without even thinking about it, as if he was used to following D'ean's orders. He pawed through the pack and found the wine skin. He unscrewed the lid as he strode over to them and poured it on the child. The girl screamed as the clear liquid hissed and burned her. Yet the liquid splashed onto D'ean and had no effect. It couldn't be acid, but what was it then?

Using the demon's anguished moment to his advantage, Dean was able to get her ass in the chair and tied down. When she spit at him, it took all his restraint not to strike her again, but there was no reason to now... he knew it would only be to the detriment of the child... if she lived through it. Wiping the spit away, he stood back and searched Sam's face for signs of disgust at his manhandling of the demon.

Stepping back, Sam didn't interfer as D'ean practically threw the child into the chair and tied her down. He shuddered at remembering being so bound himself. He knew D'ean didn't intend to hurt her that way but...

"D'ean?" Sam asked hesitantly. "What's in the wineskin? And how can you make her exercise if she's tied up? And why would a six turn old child offer you things she can't possibly give you?"

"It's not the child, its what has taken her body over... the demon. The demon has the power to give all that and more, but it comes at a high price." He pushed the child's head back and looked into inky black eyes. "See that?"

The child started screaming at him, her hair falling over her face as she cursed him.

"What you poured on her is holy water. Evil things don't like it, but it won't hurt the child. And we're going to exorcise the demon... that means throw it out of her body, and send it back where it came from, to hell."

"He's hurting me, Sam help me... he's crazy." Tears fell from the girl's eyes. "Please help me."

Sam saw the pure black eyes and stepped back. When the girl cursed with words from Kansas, not Pern, he knew his brother was telling the truth. 'Holy' water. He wondered at the word but mentally shrugged. Another Kansas term. Listening to D'ean he realized exercise and exorcise were two different words and felt kind of silly, but how was he to know?

"You know, I might have thought twice about what he's doing to you, but we don't curse with those words. Those are Kansas words. You come from the other place. So stop your crying. I don't believe a word of it."

Sam tugged D'ean away from the child and whispered to him, "Uh, are you sure you can send this demon back to the other world and to this hell place? What if you can't get it back through to Kansas? What will happen to it? What will happen to the little girl?"

"I'll get it out of her," Dean said confidently.

"And what about her wounds? She'll die if you take me out of her... tell Sam how many have died after you removed their demon. Tell him," she said, wildly.

EXORCIZO te, immundíssime spíritus, omnis incúrsio adversárii, omne phantasma, omnis légio, in nómine Dómini nostri Jesu+Christi eradicáre, et effugáre ab hoc plásmate De Dean started to say the words of the simplest exorcism prayer that he knew by heart. As he spoke the words, she wreaked havoc with the room, sending items flying and crashing into the wall, trying to strike him with them.

"He already told me the child might die," Sam snapped at her. He dodged some of the flying items though he still took a chair across the back. The thought the girl might die tore at his heart, but this thing, this creature, the little girl wasn't living with it in her anyhow. It had killed her family. Would she remember that? He hoped not. Okay, so if D'ean got it out of her but couldn't send it away, the girl had no protection from being possessed again. Sam dove for D'ean's pack and the chalk he had seen D'ean use. He ripped down the curtain for the closet and quickly drew a replica of his tattoo onto it. As soon as the demon came out, though he wondered how he would tell, he would wrap the girl in the cloth and hope it protected her. He folded it over to hide the symbol so the demon wouldn't see it and brought it close, still dodging the occasional bit of flying.

It went on and on, Dean went through the ritual twice, and then another, then cursed. "Sonovabitch... there's no hell to send it to. Goddamit... Goddamitall."

"So let me go..." she hissed.

"Shut the fuck up," turning on his heels he ran his hand over his face as he tried to think of what else he could do. He paced and looked at Sam, and paced somemore. "We have to keep her trapped right here or else the demon will inhabit someone else. You have the clout to get the Benden people to bar this place up?"

"You would starve the child's body?" She asked. "You know she's in here with me."


Sam shook his head. "Not my weyr. Not my hold. We might have a day before there are questions. I know about Kansas. They don't. She'll convince them she's the child and then we're both going to be in trouble." Sam contemplated for a minute. "What's 'holy' water? Where did you find it?"

"What do you mean they won't believe, they know she fucking killed..." he sighed. "Yeah... even in Kansas, we had the same trouble with the authorities." A clay pot wooshed through the air toward him and only his raised arm stopped it from hitting him in the face. It shattered and fell to the ground.

"Holy water, I made it. It's kind of complicated." Seeing Sam's expectent look, he took a deep breath and gave him the basics about heaven and hell, and the battle between them, and the symbol of the cross, and how water could be made holy. He was no expert, no theologian, but he did his best, keeping it simplistic.

Dean paced and came back. "We have to convince them to keep her in here."


"Those words you spoke to make it leave, they say to send it back to Hell?" Sam asked. Dean's curt nod confirmed his suspicion. "Okay, so can you rework it so it sends the demon 'between' instead? We know between exists here and there's nothing in that place. I don't think dragonriders will be in danger of being possessed going between, do you? Do you think it's possible to do that? To rewrite those words?"

Dean rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, Hell is where they come from, that's why we send them back to it." He blew out a breath and started thinking on what the closest word or description for 'between' was in Latin. "It's not even in my language. You were always the better one at Latin, I know it more by rote," he admitted.

He played around with a few words, then started the exorcism all over again, this time subsituting 'between' for 'Hell' and ordering the demon to that cold empty place he'd experienced a few times now.

The girl started to scream, her head flinging back as black smoke rushed out of her mouth and pooled around the legs of her chair, before dissipating. Then she slumped down.

Instantly, both brothers were at her side freeing her. Dean felt for a pulse, and nodded. "She's alive but... your healers will have to see if they can do anything about the injuries."

Sam swept the young girl up in his arm and mentally told their escort's dragon to tell his rider they were bringing the child up but that she would need a healer. Sam broke into a jog and at the great doors to the hold the healer met them.

"D'ean healed her of the sickness, but you'll need to tend to her physical injuries," Sam said as he handed the girl to one of the men the healer brought.

"Is this sickness contagious? How can it be cured?" she asked D'ean.

"It's a mental disease, but once it's gone, it's gone. Now you gotta take care of her physical injuries. She has a knife wound that I saw, and we know that others tried to stop her when she went ballistic... erm... mad. Might have broken bones, or internal injuries... if she pulls through, she'll be fine, it won't come back, and it's not catching. Hopefully she won't even remember the things she did when she was sick."

The healer nodded, clearly relieved. If it was the Illness and had changed into something that made people mad, there would have been no saving them. Still, if one person caught this mental disease, other might. "Once I have tended the girl, I would like to speak with you and learn what herbs you used to cure her. If this happens again, we must know how to deal with it." The healer turned then and followed after the injured child.

Leaning against the metal door, Sam crossed his arms over his chest. He had never seen anything like that demon thing. "This is what you did? What we did? Hunted things like that?" He stared into the hold at the now empty path the healer had taken. "Will she make it? Will she be okay? Did we save a lot of people?"

Dean looked up and met his gaze, nodding. "Yeah, things like this, and other evil things. I don't know if she'll make it, Sam, I'm not a doctor... a healer. But yeah, we did save a lot of lives." He walked up to his brother who looked disturbed, much like many of the people they'd saved and whose eyes had been shockingly opened to the dark side of life. Running his knuckles down the side of Sam's face, he asked, "You all right?"

Sam pulled D'ean into his arms. "No. I'm not. But I will be. Especially once I know the fate of the little girl. I hope she makes it. I hope she doesn't remember anything." He kissed D'ean before releasing him. "Let's get back to Benden Weyr. I bet we'll be able to get some Benden wine for our help. And believe me, Benden wine, there's nothing finer. Then we can head home. Unless you found more demons that need to be sent between?"

"I'm not the demon magnet in the family." Dean touched his burning lips, glad no one had been around when Sam decided he wanted that kiss, then he laughed at himself. He'd crossed so many fucking lines already, what the hell did he care if anyone saw? Putting his hand behind Sam's back, he started to head out. "Let's go get drunk... and can we get into a good bar brawl? That's always fun after a hunt." Plus flying drunk has to be better than sober.

Laughing, Sam shook his head. "You can challenge another rider to fisticuffs. We all enjoy watching a good friendly fight. We don't generally have brawls. Unbecoming plus, we can't have riders down from trivialities like fighting. Drunk? Yeah, we can get drunk. Well, you can. I shouldn't. But I'll definitely have a couple goblets. Very unseemly to fall off your dragon because you're drunk. Hurts, too." Sam gave a slightly embarassed smile at that. He knew that first hand.

Sam lead him up to the Weyr to report their success in curing the girl but that she had yet to survive the physical abuse her body suffered while ill. He asked them to be sure to let him know her fate.

* * *

The sun was out and it was a bright morning, warm and pleasant. Deanie was flying about the room chirping and creeling. He had already eaten, the kitchen drudges were always prompt to bring up a bowl of meat and a cup of klah as soon as Sam called for it.

"What has you so excited? You're going to wake your namesake," Sam said as he sat at the table, drinking his klah and eating some fruit the kitchen had sent up. Merith was settled next to Ithiel. Ithiel's wing was nearly healed and would be able to fly in a few days. D'ean had been practicing, but it was apparent he still wasn't at all thrilled with flying. It would still be a good week before Ithiel would be up to even trying to fight thread, and frankly Sam didn't think D'ean was ready for it yet. He also doubted Ithiel would readily make it through a full threadfall.

Deanie landed on his shoulder and rubbed his head against Sam's cheek. Sam clearly saw the picture of the gather flag in his mind.

"Really?" Sam said brightening. He grinned. "I lied. Go wake your namesake."

There was chattering near his ear. Dean cursed and took a swipe at the irritation. Then something landed on his back and sharp nails scratched into his skin. "Buzz off," he muttered, jerking his body. "Sam, call your pet from hell off ..." Rolling onto his back, he grabbed a pillow and put it over his face.

Sam laughed and pulled aside the curtain, hints of the bright day filtering in. "It's festival D'ean. It's a gather day. C'mon, get up. Everyone will be dressed in their finery, there'll be wine and fermented drinks, foods of all sorts, smithies and leatherworkers and dancing and song. Maybe you can find these onions of yours. I've got plenty of marks that we can spend. I've got more scrolls I can sell, too. It'll be great." He pulled free the pillow covering D'ean face. "Get up or I'll have Deanie start nipping at you in far more painful places."

"Sam... Sam!" he pointed at him to get away, then sighed and sat up. "I hate you. Why don't you go, I'll meet you later, when it's daylight." He was muttering under his breath about 'vampires' when Ithiel pointed out that he'd previously said that vampires were fanged creatures and that Sam definitely had no fangs. Everyone was a critic.

"It is daylight. Come to think of it, you don't have any dress clothes. I'll go see if I can find you some. Kitchen won't be serving long because the stalls will have food cooking and ready by mid afternoon or so. So if you're hungry, you better get up and eat. I'll bring back your clothes, then go bathe and get into mine. If you're not hungry, you can always go back to sleep until I bring you the new clothes but I don't want to hear you complaining about being hungry. We'll get some proper clothes ordered for you at the gather, but you need something more than your riding gear and your day to day clothes."

"I'd like some jeans," he said, getting out of bed and stretching. "I gotta talk to someone here about making them, how hard can it be?" As he passed Sam, he threw him a sour look, his brother was entirely too chipper for time of the morning. "I think your lizard takes after you," he muttered, walking into the privy and shutting the door.

"He's your namesake!" Sam called as he headed down to the stores for some decent dress clothes for D'ean, the fire lizard zipping down the hall chortling and chirping.

In the store room, Sam rummaged through the clothes until he found a brown shirt with some decent embroidery of dragons on the billowed sleeves, and a pair of green wherrie hide pants he thought should fit his companion. A sleeveless jerkin that matched the pants reasonably well was on the bottom of a pile of clothes so it was a little creased, but it would shake out okay. He didn't find anything promising among the boots.

After dropping the clothes off and making sure the kitchen brought up a light breakfast for D'ean, he disappeared to his own weyr and quickly washed. He pulled his nicest set of clothes from his trunk. He had a gray shirt similar to D'ean's and tight fitting black pants with a matching jerkin. Gold thread etched the seams. He ran his hand over the jerkin a minute. B'tan had gotten these clothes for him. Said the rider of the black dragon ought to have an outfit to match. He smiled fondly and returned to D'ean and Ithiel's weyr.

Dean emerged a little later in a much better mood, and put on the clothes Sam put out for him. "You're almost as good as a wife," he joked, sliding his eyes over Sam. "So... Merith, any news on eggs?"

Sam lobbed a pillow from the couch at him. "I'm not your wife. I'm your companion!" he said, but there was no venom in his words. "Merith says she'll be laying anytime now, which is earlier than is typical, but she assures me the eggs are fine and healthy. She won't tell me how many, though I'm not sure if she actually knows anyhow."

{{Of course I do. I'm just not telling you because you will tell everyone.}}

"Good." All right, it rankled D'ean that the 'baby daddy' was S'rance or Curanth, but he wasn't gonna give that much thought.

{{What is a 'baby daddy?'}} When Dean didn't answer, Ithiel moved on to ask Sam what it was and why Dean wasn't pleased. His rider was able to hide things from him unlike B'tan.

{I have no idea.}

Dean pulled the clothes on as quickly as he could, then went and snagged Sam's klah, his eyes daring Sam to argue about it. If he woke him up, he should share his coffee like drink. Nursing it, he looked over at his brother. "So... not a chance in hell that we can take the stairs all the way down, is there." Damn dragon rides... yeah he was getting used to them, but that wasn't the same as enjoying them.

"It's outside the hold. We can just have Merith take us between and drop us off. Pretty soon Ithiel will be able to do this for you. I bet you'll like flying a lot more when you're in control, when it's you and Ithiel flying as one." Sam walked over to the tray sitting on the far table. "I had them bring you up some breakfast, but if you want the remains of my fruit and cooling klah instead of the roast wherrie and bread and hot klah..."

Immediately leaving Sam's 'health nut' food, he went to the other tray and started to help himself. "I don't know. Maybe." He took a bite and closed his eyes in pleasure, then washed it down with the klah. He listened as Sam told him a little more about what this gathering was, then he finished and got up. "Okay, let's see what this Pern style festival is about."

When they went to the ledge, he stopped at Merith's side, then climbed her leg and got onto her back. "Can I sit in the back," he asked, his gaze locking with Sam's.

Sam looked at Dean surprised. It was a much more stable and safer position to be in front and he assumed Dean would prefer that. He had preferred that so far at least. Maybe he was getting more comfortable riding on dragons now. "Uh, sure. You realize there are just straps, no stirrups right? It's practically like riding her bareback."

No, he hadn't realized that.

{{Don't panic, Mine. You have excellent balance.}}

Dean managed to nod, but took a couple deep breaths as if to avoid hyperventilating. Leaving the stirrups for Sam, he waited until he got on, then managed to get a death grip on the straps. Once Sam was settled in front of him, Dean wrapped one arm around Sam's waist and held the straps to one side of his body. "Up up and away, Merith." A nervous laugh broke from him.

{{Sometimes I still wonder about Ithiel's chosen,}} Merith said to Sam. {{He does realize we are going down, not up?}}

{I think it's a Kansas thing,} Sam responded, but was equally at a loss. He wished he could hear D'ean's thoughts as he could any dragon's. Still, he rested one hand over the arm D'ean had secured around his waist.

Merith launched from the ledge of the weyr. {{Besides, I thought he hated flying high,}} she added before blinking between. She circled the assembling area once, then settled down to let Sam and D'ean dismount. Sam wasn't accustomed to getting off second and knew Dean wasn't accustomed to dismounting with just the straps.
'
"It'll be easier if I get off first," Sam said to him.

"Not here." Grinning, Dean clung to Merith's harness as Sam gracefully hopped off. When he saw Sam reach up for him, he gave him a look.

"Don't even think about it." They had an audience! He dropped off the dragon's back and straightened.

Sam smirked at him. "A guy can't offer to help his companion get down from dragonback huh?"

As they stepped away Merith launched herself back to the Weyr, flying instead of going between.

"Okay, what do you want to do first? Get you some clothes? Food? Hunt for these 'onions' of yours that you keep complaining you want? You could use some new boots too, actually." He handed D'ean a pouch. "Since I assume you don't want it to appear I'm buying things for you, here are some marks." He shifted the small duffel he had brought. "I've got some scrolls to sell too."

"No, I don't think I'd like it to look that way, but by the end of the night... I might be the one buying you things. You said they have gambling booths." There was also stealing, Dean thought as he tucked the pouch into his waist band and started to look around.

{{That would be conduct unbecoming a bronzerider}}

{I'm a bronzerider/hunter combo... deal with it}

"All right, we can get boots. I'm a size...nevermind." He had no idea what size he was on Pern. They started to walk down to what looked like a huge bazaar, with aisles and aisles of booths. Some had signs hanging, that made it immediately obvious what they were selling. People walked in throngs, and many carried mugs or goblets. There was more than one person who seemed to be weaving from too much drink. From somewhere in a distance, Dean could also hear music.

"And what are you gonna get for you?" He looked at Sam.

"I need some new daily clothes. Tired of getting the hand-me-downs from the stockroom. I could use a new belt too, I guess. And I need more scrolls and ink and to see if they have any work commisioned for me." He pulled D'ean over to a booth that served drinks. "See if you like this. You keep talking about beer and ale. From what you've said, I think maybe this might be close to it. And they have saltbread here too."

Once at the booth he ordered a mug of a red amber liquid for each of them and got them each a warm stick of double twisted bread rolled in salt. He watched as D'ean took his first drink and hoped he approved.

It was too early for beer... then again, since it was beer, it was never too early for it. After Dean took a sip, he felt the foam over his lips and wiped it away with the back of his arm. "Ahhh... I think I love you," he grinned, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. The bread smelled great too, kinda like pretzles, but he'd fucking missed beer.

Sam's breath caught a little at D'ean's proclamation of love, but he knew D'ean didn't really mean it that way. Not the way he would like for D'ean to mean it.

"So this is close to your 'beer,' then?" At D'ean's nod he turned to the man behind the counter. "How much for six kegs?"

"Oh yeah," Dean nodded, and watched them start to haggle.

The man raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Well, typically it's four marks a keg. For you, Sam, I'll cut you a deal of twenty-two marks."

"That's no deal," Sam snorted. He began bargaining in earnest until he got the man down to seventeen for the six and told him to deliver them to his weyr. He had a cool storage area cut into the stone wall where he could store them for D'ean and besides, D'ean would have to come down to get a drink.

After Sam made his payment and they started walking away, Dean took another long drink. "This is... it's good beer. And this..." he lifted the braided bread with salt crystals on top. "In... Kansas, we call these pretzels and we eat them with mustard and a helluvalot of other things. I think this is the best I've had," he said. "You were right, this was worth waking up for." Dean's eyes lit up with excitement. Weyr life had been a little too... quiet for him. This was more like it. "You used to live down here, in town. Did you prefer it to the weyr?"

Sam scowled. "The weyr is a lot better. Here I was just a drudge. I got up every morning before the sun was hardly up so I could get to the steward to get my job assignment for the day and try to avoid S'rance. I would come in as late as possible. At the weyr, I have Merith, though I do kind of miss walking the shoreline gathering herbs. I always liked that." He took a swig of the beer and shrugged. "It's really hard to compare. They're really like two different lives. Believe me, the weyr is much better, more exciting, more...lively than the hold." Sam took a bite of the bread. "It's just called saltbread here, and the drink is called dosaches, but mostly we call it 'dose.' It's from up north." He walked past several booths until he stopped at one of the many hide vendors. "This is the best place to get boots. I'm going to get a belt here. You want to try to bargain on your boots, or do you want me too?"

"I got it, you get your belt," he said, walking over to rack of boots. After a while, and after talking to the seller, he got ones as close to the ones he favored at home as possible. Without asking his size, the guy produced a pair that fit him perfectly... just by eyeballing him. Impressed, Dean started the negotiation and then was the proud owner of the new boots, which he decided to wear.

Seeing Sam was still looking at belts, he told him he'd be at the next booth and walked out into the sunshine. The smell of food and the ocean air was strong. Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought he really did smell onions.

Sam struggled to keep his mouth shut when he heard the final priced settled on. D'ean paid a good half mark more than he should have, but since D'ean seemed proud of his 'bargain,' Sam didn't want to spoil it. When the man was done with D'ean, Sam bargained down the belt price quite a bit, pointing out that his companion had just paid a goodly price, too goodly a price, for the boots. After getting his belt and sliding it into his duffle he came out and scanned the crowd for the bronze rider.

Popping out of one of the tents, Dean waved Sam over. Soon they were both looking over a display of every type of knife you could imagine, talking comfortably about their merits, feeling their weight. "You have any in silver?" Dean asked.

"Silver is too soft, of what use would that be?" the man behind the counter said.

"How about dipped in silver."

The man's eyes shifted to Sam. He knew this must be the bronzerider who some said wasn't 'all there.'

"Hey, why look at him, I'm the one interested in buying."

"Make it two knives dipped in silver," Sam said, smiling at the man. "A silvered blade looks good when you're in your finery," he explained. "It doesn't need to be practical when it's just for show." He assumed the blades would be useful against some of the evil D'ean thought might have invaded Pern. If D'ean was getting one, then he would need one too because he had no intention of not backing up his companion.

"It will tarnish," the old man, set in his ways, said.

"Then we'll clean them. Look you gonna do this or..." Dean started walking away when the man called him back. "I'll take that one," Dean pointed to one that he'd played with earlier, and then waited for Sam to select one. He agreed to pay when the knives were delivered.

Once they were out in the sunshine again, he ran his hand over his face. "Getting tired of 'those' looks."

Sam laughed. "Well, you do ask for strange things. Believe me, I got them too. Everyone knew I kept salt at my door. And I get them for being a male rider of a queen. I've always been considered odd." He lead Dean down to a stall with scrolls and handed over those he had been commissioned to make and the man had new orders for him. Sam's work was becoming well known and older scrolls that were faded or ruined due to water or the like were finding their way to him instead of to the some of the historians, especially if they were family scrolls. He picked up his marks and restocked his supplies. The merchand and Sam had made agreements on prices long ago, so there was mostly just small talk between them. When they left there Sam headed for another tent that made clothing.

"Was I odd when I lived in Kansas? Odd like I am here?"

{{You are not odd,}} Merith insisted. {{You are interesting.}}

{I'm different and you know it.}

{{Why do you think that is a bad thing? I am different am I not?}}

{Yeah, but--}

{{Odd is not bad,}} Merith insisted.

Knowing he wouldn't win the argument Sam looked at D'ean and waited for an answer, though he suspected he knew what it would be.

"Why do you ask that? You're from Kansas, why would you be odd in Kansas," Dean asked, not entirely comfortable with the question.

It was obvious to Sam that his companion was hedging. That, by itself answered the question but he responded to D'ean anyhow. "I dont know. I just...I always feel out of place, out of synchronicity with the rest of the world around me. I was just wondering if it was because I was from Kansas or if it is just me."

He struggled with that one. Should he tell Sam about his powers? What if he could access them here? What if... "No, you were normal. Maybe a little nerdy, you know, hitting the books all the time. And you could have gotten a lot more chicks if you'd tried instead of keeping your nose in research. Other than that... normal."

{{What are you hiding from him?}}

{Nothing. There was nothing wrong with Sam.}

Sam didn't really believe he was normal there but pretended to accept it, though he puzzled over his brother's answer. "Why would I hit books? Would that not damage them? And why would I want a lot of chicks? Is owning a large flock of birds a sign of rank in Kansas?"

It was a good thing Dean was done with his beer cause he would have spewed it. He did laugh at Sam. "See now... NOW you're being odd." He shook his head. "Hitting the books means what you are doing here too... library, reading, writing. And chicks, they're girls. Owning a flock..." he laughed again, and stopped at another beer stand. "If I'm gonna sound drunk, I think I should be drunk."

The day went quickly. Though Dean wasn't one to love shopping, everything was new and different so it was interesting for him. By midafternoon though, they'd reached the gambling tent and he was on a lucky streak and wouldn't leave, even when Sam was ready to. "Nah, you go ahead. We'll make the dragons be our cell phones, I'll find you." He gave Sam a push, then turned back to the game.

"Cell phones?" Sam asked, but D'ean was already back inside the tent. He looked around at the people laughing and drinking and eating. He picked up a few bubbly pies to eat and wandered a bit more, suddenly feeling more than a little lonely. It had been nice to be at a gather with somene for a change. D'ean seemed interested in everything, and he did find a vegetable that came from a bulb that he said tasted quite close to his 'onions.' Sam made certain to pick up some which Deanie was kind enough to deliver to D'ean's weyr, and then asked the man to speak with the kitchen staff and see too it that some were always on hand for his companion.

After a while, seeing all the clusters of people, of couples, of groups of friends, he just couldn't deal with it anymore. He was contemplating heading back to his weyr when he heard the harper songs and music. He always enjoyed seeing the dancing and headed over to it. He settled himself at a table, watching the couples dance to the raucous music. With a a goblet of wine to sip on, he watched the people enviously.

*

The coin bag Sam had given him was quite heavy, though only figuratively as the marks he'd won and added to it were made of wood. Having left the gambling behind, he walked at a leisurely pace and found his way to where the music was coming from. He'd been about to ask Ithiel to find out where Sam was when he saw Sam across from him, on the other side of the dance area. Sam's expression... something about it haunted Dean. So lonely, so disappointed... no, maybe the word was yearning, yearning for something. The same look Sammy had worn when they'd be forced to leave a school or a town where he'd just started to make friends.

{He has a lot of friends, why is he lonely?}

{{Acquaintances aren't the same. Merith says he fears getting close to anyone because of S'rance.}}

Biting his lip, Dean continued to watch Sam.

Sam was debating about getting a second cup of wine. He enjoyed watching the dances but it really just accented the lonliness in him. He had never gotten to actually dance. He and Serina had practiced in anticipation of the next gather, but that had never come to pass. He hadn't had a chance to dance with Jessca and B'tan wasn't a fan of music really, and he wouldn't even go to watch the dancing. Always the observer, never the participant. He sighed and decided the dancing was just making his lonliness worse. Best he leave before it got too much to deal with.

The sadder Sam looked, the deeper Dean's frown became. He told Ithiel at least three times that he just didn't dance, but when Sam looked down at the table, his hands flat on it, as if trying to talk himself into pushing up and away from the scene, he just couldn't take it. Crossing through the dancers, he made made a bee line for Sam and stood in front of him, putting his hand out. "C'mon, I want this dance."

{This is so not me.}

{{You are a new man, and this is not your Kansas.}}

Sam looked up, startled. He had been so lost in his own misery, trying to get up the nerve to leave, he hadn't even seen D'ean approach. He stared at the offered hand in wonderment and even a sudden bit of shyness showed on his face. "I, uh, I've never actually...danced before. I'm probably not any good," Sam said apologetically, but climbed to his feet and let D'ean lead him out to the dancing area.

"I haven't since high school, and even that is debateable." Did swaying a little while you were in a lip lock count as dancing? He found them a spot at the edges, in an area where the torches weren't lighting the place up so well that everyone would see their every move. Then they were standing in front of each other and he knew damned well that there was no way he was going to dance in the way the Pernese were... choreographed steps that they all seemed to know.

"Kansas style," he said, putting his arms around Sam's waist and pulling him close. "Put your arms around my shoulders." He felt a flutter low in his belly and knew it was because of Sam's nearness and because this felt so damned intimate, even more intimate than laying in bed next to each other.

Sam really didn't know what to think of this Kansas style, but he decided pretty quickly that he liked it when D'ean wrapped his arms around his waist. It took a moment to figure out how it was most comfortable to have his arms, and found himself staring into those beautiful green eyes. His breath hitched just a little and he felt a warm ripple go through him.

"I think I like Kansas style," Sam murmured softly. It seemed as if the music had faded into soft notes as he watched the shadows from the torchlight play across D'ean's face. It felt as if just the two of them were all that existed the this world.

Unable to draw his gaze away from Sam's, Dean found himself having to face some uncomfortable truths. He found his brother beautiful. Not good looking, not just ruggedly handsome, not as Winchester pride in one of their own, but phsysically attractive to him in ways he never thought. He liked having Sam close, not just to keep him safe, not because he'd done that all his life... it wasn't about habit. Pulling him closer, flush against his body... he knew it was about the heat, about the electricity that flowed between them when they touched.

Then there were the things he saw in Sam's expressive eyes, things that made him react on a hundred levels, from wanting to protect him, to making him happy, to wanting to give him what he needed... things that maybe made both of them tick. He licked his lips, and moved one hand up and down Sam's back, molding him close as they swayed, legs sliding together, bodies colliding. Touching his lips to Sam's temple, he moved his mouth over Sam's ear. "When you disappeared from Kansas, a part of me died every day." He squeezed his eyes shut as he recalled the day Sam died in his arms... that day, and the day he'd realized Sam was nowhere on earth, those had been the worst in his life.

"Now. Now I found you and... God this ... I'm not good at this." Sam back home would know that. He blew out a breath of hot air, his heart pounding against his chest. "This... what we're doing here... what you want from me, it... it's impossible in Kansas. I mean seriously impossible, like a Goldrider refusing to be with the rider of the dragon who flew the gold." Feeling Sam tense, he refused to allow any distance between them. "What I'm trying to say is..." He pulled back so he could see Sam's face. "I'm not entirely uncomfortable with this, even if I should be. I just... I just don't know how it would all work, once we get back home."

Sam couldn't deny that he liked the way D'ean pulled him close. When D'ean mentioned S'rance, even in such an obtuse way, he felt his stomach churn, but having D'ean so close made him feel safe. He didn't understand why it would be so impossible in Kansas.

{{Brothers do not share beds with brothers in Kansas,}} Ithiel told Sam. {{It is considered wrong. On the level of wrong such as killing a dragon.}}

{But why?}

{{I do not know. Much of Kansas does not make sense.}}

Sam's brows furrowed. "D'ean, I can't leave Merith. I won't leave Merith. She's...she's part of my soul. Between her eggs and the fact we help destroy thread, I'm helping to save a world tottering on the brink. If you leave...Ithiel will die. He will go between. What he did, taking on a second impressed, it's unheard of. He wouldn't, he couldn't, survive if you left. Surely you still feel the hole in his heart and mind from the loss of B'tan. I still hear it in his thoughts." Sam bit his lip. "I, uh, I'm like Weryleader Lessa from all those turns ago. I can speak with any dragon. It's highly unusual and I haven't told anyone I can. Until now."

Sam gave a soft sigh. "I can't leave D'ean. I mean if I could go and then come back to Merith...if I could take Merith with me...maybe. If she lays enough eggs, lays enough queens, then maybe I could go. But there aren't any dragons in Kansas, are there? We don't even know if there is a way back. Why worry about what might not even be possible? You are here. And here, it is okay for us to be together. Can't you accept the now and stop worrying about what might be? Next threadfall either of us could die." He ran his hand along side D'ean's face. "If I love you and want you this way here, how can it be I won't there? You loved me enough to risk everything to come after me. Be a bronze rider, D'ean. Not someone from Kansas. Be the man I love, not the brother that you fear sleeping with." He managed a grin. "And if somehow we do end up going back to Kansas, I promise I won't punch you or kick your ass for it." Sam frowned a minute. "Kick your ass. That's a Kansas term, isn't it?" He looked deep in those eyes of his brother. "Besides, can you honestly tell me you could leave Ithiel behind?"

These weren't new questions. Dean had asked himself the same questions, knew it was complicated... so fucking complicated it tangled him up on the insides. He moved his face away when Sam stroked it, asking him ... telling him things that couldn't be dealt with as simply as he seemed to think.

"See now, this is why you hardly ever got laid in Kansas. Sometimes it's okay to just... just fucking kiss someone instead of the... going into details, taking the conversation ten levels up, looking at it from a hundred angles. Are we done?" He swept his hand around, to indicate the dance.

{{Why are you angry?}}

{I am not angry.}

Sam saw the frustration, maybe even a touch of fear enter his brother's eyes. "You asked a question, rhetorical or not. I answered it. And no, we're not done," Sam said.

Sam slid his arms around D'ean and pulled him closer, covering Dean's mouth, pushing his tongue into his brother's mouth, feeling his moment of hesitation. Running his hand down D'ean's back he finally brought it to rest on the curve of his ass, then brought their already close bodies closer. He wanted D'ean so badly. He needed D'ean to want him just as badly. He was done with words, though he wanted to say a million more things to him, to try to convince him it was okay. Though he did wonder what getting laid meant.

{{Sex,}} Ithiel supplied helpfully.

Sam almost laughed but instead he began to moan softly, feeling a warmth begin to coil in his stomach as his blood began heading in that general direction.

Dean wasn't good at multi-tasking and his insides were still churning with the thoughts that Sam had brought up. Despite Sam's forceful refusal to end the dance, he was considering ending it himself when their mouths met. Emotions warred inside him... he hesitated.

{{Sometimes its okay to just kiss,}} Ithiel quoted. {{And even if you're not good at this ... multi-tasking... you're very good at blocking. Forget what he said, show him how you feel. You could both use a dose of that, but try not to shock him, he is almost a virgin.}}

{What?!} Dean almost jerked away. {Are you trying to help, or break my concentration?}

Ithiel merely chuckled, calling for Merith to keep him company.

Sam's soft moan drew an intense reaction from Dean, making every muscle in his body clench hard. His arms were still around Sam's waist, and while his brother's were also around his, Dean suddenly moved his palms down, over Sam's ass, molding him closer, up against his body. "Fuck..." He could feel every plane of Sam's hard body against his, imprinting his, setting him slowly on fire.

Sam would have smiled if he could have thought that clearly, loving that D'ean pulled him so close, loving the feeling of D'ean's hand on his ass, loving the tense tight muscles under his own hands. "Mmm," was all Sam could manage in response to D'ean's 'fuck.' He wished Dean would feck him. Even though S'rance's touch was long gone, it still lingered there inside him, the only thing to have breached him except for D'ean's fingers. He pretended it didn't bother him, pretended he didn't still have nightmares about it, but he did. He wanted his brother deep inside him, removing the last of that foul touch on Sam's soul.

As their tongues tangled, Dean started to take control of the kiss. Twisting his tongue around Sam's, he pushed past it, delving into Sam's mouth. He must have had sweet wine, because his brother tasted good, so fucking good... Groaning, Dean swept one hand up Sam's back, bringing it to cup the side of his neck as he deepened the kiss, tongue fucking him as his body set the same rhythm, rubbing, grinding into Sam, his hardening cock pressed firmly against Sam's thigh.

Feeling D'ean's erection against him only made the blood rush faster to his own cock. The way D'ean's whole body rocked against him fanned the flames inside him. The dance was going to have to end because otherwise they would end up doing things in public that would be very unbecoming to dragonriders. They were already probably crossing the line if anyone was paying them any attention. They would need to find a secluded place and soon. He already had a few places in mind that would offer them privacy and weren't terribly far away. The last thing he wanted was taking a ride on Merith and going to the cold of between.

{{I wouldn't have to go between. And you could continue what you're doing while I get you back to a proper bed,}} Merith said, her tone more than pleased with the situation developing between the two riders. She nuzzled Ithiel affectionately.

So good... so good not to think anymore, not to allow guilt to spoil it, to just feel. Feel how right Sam felt in his arms, how in synch they were in this ... just as they were in all other aspects of their lives. Dean felt all the walls he'd raised come crumbling down, need quickly spilling over. Groaning, he kissed Sam hard one more time, then whispered in his ear. "Want you." Even with his lust hazed mind, he realized this wasn't the place and started backing Sam away from the dance area.

A heavy hand landing on Dean's shoulder had him turning and protectively pushing Sam out of the way at the same time. "What the fuck."

Sam stumbled at the sudden shove from D'ean. When he saw S'rance, he froze for a moment. He knew he shouldn't have let D'ean take him out to dance in public. It was what he had always feared. S'rance coming out, making a scene, and trying to claim him.

{{You are not his, My Impressed. You are mine. You will soon be D'ean's. Never Curanth's rider's. Not again.}}

"What the feck indeed." S'rance's face was flushed red, his expression hard, eyes furious. "Who the feck do you think you are slutting it up at my father's gather?" He raised his chin, a haughty quelling look on his face. "You're going to answer to--"

"Slutting it up? 'Slutting it up' bothers YOU?" Dean could tell S'rance wasn't used to being talked back to, that he'd expected him to knuckle down, not make a scene. He should'a learned from the dining hall. "So rape is okay in your book, but a little consensual kissing, that makes you go all red, and angry and prudish, really?"

There was some uncomfortable chuckling from the crowd. S'rance had been their lord for a long time, but that meant the truth of D'ean's words reached them and was understood.
Sam started to step forward. He still had no idea if D'ean was any good with a sword.

{Ithiel tell Sam to stay the fuck out of this, or I swear, I'll never touch him again.}

{{That's blackmail, he won't like it.}}

{Tough.}

When Ithiel's words rang in Sam's head, he faltered. He had a feeling D'ean meant what he said, but dammit, he couldn't stand by and watch his brother, the man he loved, be killed.

"D'ean," Sam pleaded, but was ignored as D'ean kept focused purely on S'rance.

"Tell you what, I don't appreciate your hands on me. I'm not interested, and you can bring all the ropes and ties you need, still not interested. And Sam isn't either, so either find yourself someone else or get real familiar with your right hand, you coward."

There were some intakes of breath.

"That's right, you heard me.... coward. Or do you wanna iron this out with say swords... what do you call it... a challenge."

"D'ean, no," Sam begged and pulled at his shoulder. "Let it go."

"No." Dean refused to budge. "That's the problem here, everyone let's it go. I'm not letting it go. How about it, S'rance." He shoved him, just to make sure it would be harder for the rider to walk away.

"Why you arrogant..." S'rance drew back his arm, only to have it caught by someone behind him. Arguing angrily, he turned and stopped when he saw it was his half brother, Guaran, new Lord of the hold.

"Enough... both of you. You will not ruin this gather," Guaran said, giving everyone involved a stern look. "A challenge has been issued?" He looked at D'ean.

Dean nodded.

"Has it been accepted?" He turned to S'rance.

"Yes. Swords," he made sure to clarify, giving a sure smile.

"Then it will take place at dawn, here in the hold yard... but not tonight." Several hold guards came into view, a silent show of strength.

"Six... got it."

"Six what?" asked Guaran.

"Never mind, I meant dawn. See you at dawn," Dean nodded, his gaze focused on S'rance, expecting him to play dirty pool, as he backed away, one hand searching for Sam to make sure he was coming too.

Sam closed his eyes briefly. Did people from Kansas even know how to use swords? Well, D'ean carried a knife, so maybe he knew something of swords. While the challenge did not have to result in death, one look at S'rance's face said it would. He took D'ean's hand and let D'ean tug him along. S'rance would steal not only his lover but his sole family member too. He kept back the tears, but only barely. He should stand in D'ean's place. He could beat that bastard when it came to swordplay. He had nearly challenged S'rance one time but K'tol stepped in and forbade him. The loss of the only young queen was unacceptable. It would be the end, and Sam knew he was right. The loss of a bronze as large as Curanth was equally unacceptable especially when they did not yet know if Merith could even produce eggs. Now, though, one or both bronze might be lost but the challenge was made and accepted.

{Curanth can you do nothing about your rider?} Sam asked.

{{Not when it comes to you. He considers you his property. His drudge. His slave. Seeing you with another inflames him. I believe I know more curses than all of Pern combined. Because of you.}} Curanth's voice was mildly haughty and arrogant, but at the same time Curanth, when S'rance was not raging for whatever reason, still bowed down before the queen dragons. He had even made apology clear to Merith for his treatment of her during the mating.

{Then please at least try to keep him from killing Ithiel's rider. Ithiel can not take another such loss.}

{{I will do what I can, gold rider. I can offer no promises.}}

A few moments later, they went to the field past the edge of the gather and two dragons gracefully circled then dropped down in front of them.

{Ithiel, you're not ready. Hell, I'm not ready--}

{{They have to see you are a real bronzerider, they need to see it.}} Ithiel was aware of the politics and that S'rance would try to spread rumors about D'ean's mental faculties or lack thereof or to heap any other negatives that he could upon the rider's shoulders and reputation.

{You're hurt, you're not supposed to take me on your back.}

{{It's a short ride. Mount, before they start to believe rumors that you are afraid of flight.}}

{Rumors. This is me screaming on the inside.} He watched as Sam mounted, then giving the crowd a salute, he mounted Ithiel.

{There are no straps... there's fucking nothing to hold onto.}

{{My neck ridges. I promise not to drop you, Mine.}}

Pasting a grin on his face, Dean gripped onto Ithiel's neck spike with all his might as the dragon took proudly to the skies, screeching loudly and joining Sam and Merith. He mentally counted and recounted to calm himself, until he realized a sense of elation at being one with Ithiel, up in the sky, each of his thoughts almost instantly obeyed... to the left... to the right... though had no clue which ledge to drop down onto... they all looked the same.

A few moments later, they landed, and he could see they were at Sam's weyr. Slipping off Ithiel's back, he scratched the dragon's eyeridge and thanked him for the ride.

Sam dropped from Merith's back and stripped off her riding harness, practically tossing it aside angrily. He stalked over to D'ean. "Blast the shell and sear the skin!" Sam exploded at him. "What were you thinking? He wanted to push you to challenge! Are you a fool? He is a master swordsman. He will killed you! You fell perfectly into his trap, challenging him in front of not just dragonriders but half the hold! There is no way you can deny the challenge without great loss of face and reputation. It's bad enough everyone thinks you're not right in the head. Are you trying to prove them correct?"

"What the hell, Sam." He put his arms out to prevent his incensed brother from colliding into him. "A little faith here, is that too much to ask?" he demanded. He stripped off his jacket and headed inside, trying to calm his own ass down, but not doing a great job of it. He turned around to find that Sam was hard on his heels. "Listen, I don't care what anyone else thinks, but I am not a fool. You think I fell into S'rance's trap, well think again. Maybe he fell into mine. I've been waiting for this since... I've been waiting for this. You don't like it, fine... just stay out of it. I'll take care of it."

"Your trap? YOUR trap? Do you even know how to use that sword you have strapped to your side?" Sam ran his hand through his hair, brushing it off his forehead. Almost to himself he said, "I can substitute for you. K'tol won't like it, but I don't see any other choice. It's fair within a challenge to call in a second. I know I can beat him. No one knows just how good I am with a sword. Well, B'tan knew. S'rance will be cockier than normal because he thinks I'm not that good. He also won't kill me if something were to go wrong.

"Calm your ass down." Dean grabbed him and practically shoved him down onto the sofa. "I'm getting you a drink, and you're going to drink it. And you might as well forget taking my place right now, cause it's not happening. You wanna think I'm inept with the sword, fine, whatever. S'rance won't be the only one surprised tomorrow. You know you're working your dragon into a lather," he said, just taking a guess.

"Merith is fine," Sam snapped.

A moment later, Dean returned with a glass of liquor and held it in front of his brother. "Drink it."

Sam gave a soft snort. "You first. I'm not drinking fellis juice, jerk." He looked up at his brother. "Prove to me you can use a sword and that will calm me down."

"I think I was using my sword on that dance floor and you had no complaints. Now drink the fucking juice." He swirled the liquid in the cup in front of Sam.

Sam knocked the cup aside as he leapt to his feet and drew his sword in one graceful motion. He brushed the tip of his sword across D'ean's throat, not drawing blood but only barely. Deanie was flying around creeling, his faceted eyes shifting between red and yellow, anger and anxiety.

"Do not treat me as if I am a child, bronze rider. I am not. You ask me to have faith in you. I do not remember my life in Kansas. I trust you with my life but I have also seen how short tempered you can be and I know you loathe S'rance as much as I do. I know that you can act rashly, just as you can act deceitfully. I cannot read you well enough to know which side you fall on this time. Why will you not draw your sword and spar with me? Is that too much ask? A little proof so that I am not among the observers fearing for your life because I don't know if you can fight or not? Please, brother, give me this."

"Rashly? Deceitfully, this is what you think of me? Now I'm some country bumpkin who has no idea how to protect myself, and goes and challenges a sword fight, plus all that. You think all of that... then what the hell are you even doing with me?" Dean demanded, pissed off. One thing he wasn't used to was Sam questioning his fighting abilities, his need to protect... everything else was fine.

"Either you were rash and fell into his trap, or you were deceitful and drew him into yours. I have no idea what a bumpkin is but I do not know how well you fight! How can I when I have never seen you fight? Whether or not you can has no bearing on why I am with you!"

{{Be reasonable. Sam is just worried. He loves you.}}

{Right now all I want is his trust.}

Irritated even more by Ithiel's urgings, Dean moved like a whipcord, sidestepping the sword Sam had pointed toward him in challenge. By the count of three, he had taken the sword away, had his brother's arm twisted behind his back, and was leaning over one of his shoulders. "There's your proof. Now fucking let go of this ..." He felt Sam shove him back, but didn't release him for a long moment, trying to make his point, before letting him go.

Sam was startled by how fast the other man moved. He was not prepared for a physical attack or the way D'ean disarmed him and held him in an arm lock. Once Dean released him he said, "All it proves is that you are afraid to face my blade in a fair fight."

Sam leaned over and picked up his sword, resheathing it. He walked over to the shelf where the fellis juice sat. He kept his back to D'ean. "Maybe you're right," he said, picking it up, feeling hot tears spill down his cheeks. "I can drink enough of this to keep me out for three days. I will not have to watch you die, I will not have to watch them bury you." He took a breath, and continued. "You will not have sex with me. You will not face me in a fair fight. You are as bad as he is. You must control me. I am nothing to you."

He glanced briefly back at D'ean, his eyes sad, his cheeks coated with tears. "I know you love me in your Kansas fashion." He turned his back to D'ean once again. "But you will never love me as a companion. You want to dominate. You insist it must be your way or no way. I can't accept that anymore..." His voice cracked at the end. He pulled down a mug and upended the bottle of fellis juice into it then poured the wine in afterward. He briefly wondered if it were too much fellis and actually, in that moment, he didn't care if it was.

Dean saw the tears but he was too angry to care. Following Sam, he wheeled him around to face him again, holding him by the collar of his shirt. "Don't you say that to me, don't you EVER fucking say that I'm like him. I am nothing like him. I would never hurt you, not like..." Sure they'd always had physical fights, but they'd been normal, not like what Sam had with his fucking stalker. "All our lives, since I was four, it was my job... mine... to take care of you, to make sure you were fed, protected, that you had what you needed, that I made the tough calls when dad wasn't around, so forgive me... forgive me if I come off a little bossy, it's how it is." He released Sam, but stayed in his face. "You're a good swordsman? And who the fuck do you think taught you? You learned to outfight S'rance in a couple of years, here? I think not."

Turning on his heels he started walking away, seething at the comparison.

{{He did not mean to hurt you, Mine.}}

{I don't hurt that easy.}

{{You lie to yourself.}} Ithiel told D'ean.

"Dammit D'ean, don't you get it? I don't remember that! All I know is my life here! My life here where I have always been alone, where I could trust no one but myself! Where everyone gave me orders. Everyone! I have known you only a few months. You tell me you are from another world, from a place called Kansas. I believe you. You tell me I am from Kansas. I believe you. You tell me I am your brother. I believe you. Now you must believe me. I am fecking terrified I will lose you tomorrow. You are my only family. Your are the only person left alive that I love and that I trust to even touch me. I don't understand why you refuse to reassure me. Why does it upset you so much that I ask you to prove you are good with a sword? I'm sorry I don't remember the sacrifices you made for me. I'm sorry I don't remember you taking care of me. I'm sorry the sons-of-bitches who stole me from you and put me here gave me only memories of a lonely and terrible life. I wish I remembered. By the first egg, I wish I remembered. But I don't and I am scared I will once again be left alone. That I will be left to face him alone. I don't want to be alone any more D'ean."

So many hot retorts came to Dean's lips about how he didn't appreciate all the insults. That he wasn't gonna take em, not from anyone, especially not his brother. But the more Sam went on, the more the depth of his brother's fears sank in. And the more he realized he was expecting Sam to act like he would back home, trust him when it came to fighting.

Dean didn't appologize, didn't acknowledge hearing anything Sam said, just nodded. "Get your sword."

Sam felt the air rush out of him. He wiped away his tears and after gathering himself, pulled his sword from his sheath. He had already seen just how fast D'ean could be without a weapon. He truly hoped D'ean was as good as he claimed, that D'ean had indeed taught him his skills. If that was the case, then he also needed to fight as S'rance would fight, in Pernese fashion because that was what D'ean would face. Pernese style of swordplay was different from the unique style that came to him naturally and admitedly, the first few times he had fought against the Pern style he had done poorly.

"Put your jerkin back on," Sam asked as he moved to the large open area between his living area and where the dragons were resting on the ledge. "It will offer you some protection and you will be fighting in it tomorrow. You should know how it feels to fight in it." After a pause he added, "Thank you for this."

Dean's eyes merely darkened, but he silently went out to the ledge where he left his jacket, and returned wearing it. Holding the sword loosly in his hand, he wiped his other one over his face. "Let's get on with it." He wasn't gonna underestimate his brother, no way. So he watched him closely, waiting for the attack.

Sam slowly circled him, watching how D'ean moved, measuring how he kept his balance, when he was the most off balance when he moved. K'tol had shown him quite a bit, as had others who were very good with the sword. He knew how S'rance would fight and he knew if S'rance started to lose, he would fight dirty. He wanted D'ean to be prepared for that as well.

He lunged suddenly, saw D'ean move to counter, disengaged their blades so they never even touched and feinted to slice at D'ean's side, only to whip the blade down and aim for Dean's knee. He barely missed as D'ean jumped back. He sensed he had startled his brother and pushed the advantage, realizing almost too late that D'ean was drawing him in close. He sidestepped D'ean's lightning fast lunge, tossed his blade into his left hand and sliced at Dean's legs again. When D'ean shifted to avoid the blow Sam flicked the blade up and felt the tip hit D'ean's arm. He lunged forward rotating the blade back, trying to catch the hilt and disarm D'ean and was rewarded instead with a cut across the back of his jerkin. He spun around and waited for D'ean's attack, watching as D'ean did the same to him, making him move, watching his balance and his footwork.

They were testing each other, using tricks they'd learned together or apart. Dean had the advantage of knowing Sam, of knowing the moves he favored, his weaknesses. It wouldn't be the same with S'rance, but he... both he and Sam were damned good at fighting, and he'd already seen and decided S'rance would be easy to rile up if he needed to do that to get him to make a mistake.

The fighting became progressively more heated, more advanced moves were used as Sam started to gain confidence in Dean's abilities to protect himself. Dean made sure Sam would not find any of his weaknesses, not have any reason to doubt his skill. If he'd been in a better mood, he might have even joked during the demonstration.

And so the fight went, each occasionally getting through the other's guard. When Sam decided S'rance would be getting tired, he lunged in. He had scooped up some grit that had blown in or little pebbles the times he had gotten close enough to the ground to do so. When he lunged, he threw the debris into his brother's face, prepared to make the 'kill.' He suddenly found himself on his back, disarmed, and staring at a blade at his throat.

"You have any other hoops I need to jump through before you're satisfied?" Dean asked, lowering the weapon.

Sam pushed himself to his feet and threw his arms around his brother. "No more 'hoops.'" He kissed D'ean hard, relief filling him, knowing that his brother had a good chance of beating S'rance come morning. He pressed up against his brother as he pulled Dean tightly against him.

Seeing as he was still slightly pissed, Dean was surprised by the sudden hug and kiss. "Okay, get ahold of yourself, Sam," he made a face. "It's not a big deal, alright?"

{Would you ask Merith if Sam intends to squeeze me to death so I don't face S'rance.}

{{You're being surly, but I will ask.}}
"It is a big deal," Sam said. "It's as big as the red star to me. I had to know, I had to be sure, that I wasn't going to lose you tomorrow. S'rance has taken everything from me, right down to my virginity. I couldn't stand the thought of him taking you too. And you're nothing like him. I'm sorry I said that."

Dean gave a halfhearted nod. If anything, Sam was usually very precise when he spoke.
.
Sam laughed when Merith passed on the question. "No," he said, easing his hold on D'ean even though he didn't want to. He slipped from D'ean's arms and went over to his trunk. Opening it he moved things around inside until he found what he was looking for. He brought a silver flask over to D'ean, unscrewing the lid along the way and took a good solid swig of it, hissing a little at the fire as it rolled down his throat. Holding the flask out to him he said, "This is hard to come by, but I've got a little left. Enough to share a couple healthy swigs. It's called moondew. It's made from grain. I thinlk you'll like it."

Reaching for it, Dean sniffed the flask, then laughed. "Good old fashioned moonshine." Knocking some back, he made a face as the liquid burned all the way down to his stomach. "Ahh... whoo!" he shook his head side to side. "Potent stuff." He passed the flask back, then went to sit down on the comfortable sofa. "So... bout tomorrow, you coming with?" It was a stupid question, but he wanted to know the logistics.

Sam screwed the lid back on. It was potent and there was only about three, maybe four swallows left. Following D'ean over to the couch he settled beside him, setting the flask on the end table. "Of course I am. I want to see you 'kick his ass.'"

Twining his fingers in D'ean's, he said, "I kinda assumed you were my older brother. Since you were four you looked after me. So that's when Mom died? No, nevermind. I don't want the details tonight. Thank you for dancing with me. I've always wanted to dance, it always looked so fun, but...I just never...there was never anyone...and S'rance, well, I knew he'd ruin it, just like he did. I think I would like to drop those scrollmakers out in the middle of threadfall. If they mess with everyone's memories, why, by the egg, did they have to make that bastard obsessed with me? I'm nothing special to look at."

"Oh I have a boot with those scrollmakers' names on it, believe me, when it kicks their asses... you're gonna hear it all the way to Kansas." He cocked his head and looked at Sam's face, "but I don't know about the 'nothing special to look at.' I mean, I bet you take a survey and you'll get a lot of tens, I mean, not that I'd rate a guy or anything."

{{On a point system, he thinks you would get ten out of ten. He also thinks you'd get 'sizzling hot' but he denies thinking it,}} Ithiel ratted Dean out.

Sam had to hide his embarassed smile at the flattering comment. "I don't know about that. Maybe a ten on the strange scale."

"Alrighty," Dean slapped his thighs. "I should probably get going, get some sleep, hmm? Early day tomorrow." It was a little awkard. He kinda didn't know where they stood now that the mood from earlier in the evening had been disrupted. "You ah... you'll come get me?"

"Ithiel is staying the night. Why don't you? You can soak in the hot pool in the morning to help loosen you up," Sam offered, hoping to tempt him. "I'll be a good companion and get hot klah and a sandwich up here for you once you've bathed. And I would kind of like it if you, you know, stayed?"

"Ithiel's staying? What he just decided that?"

{{I have no human intimacy issues.}}

"What intimacy issues, what the fuck?" Dean only realized that he'd spoken out loud when he felt Sam's gaze on him and shrugged at the slip. "Okay, I'm staying. I think I'd like that bath now, if it's alright with you." He was a little tense, a little on edge from all the emotional crap that had been going on, something he didn't really enjoy and wasn't well equipped to deal with.

"After our sword fight, I'm pretty sweaty, too. A bath sounds good." He ignored D'ean's exclamation to Ithiel. Releasing D'ean's hand he pulled off his boots before standing up. He took off his jerkin and his shirt, setting them aside for cleaning later. As he headed back toward the hot pool he called over his shoulder, "C'mon."

When he reached the water's edge, he finished disrobing and slid into the warm water. It felt really good to rinse the sweat and dust of the day from him. He grabbed some soapsand and began washing himself.

The doorway to the washing pool was open and Dean leaned over to watch as Sam walked into the water. Shaking his head at himself, he followed, tossing his clothes onto some hooks along the wall.

He quickly got into the water, and dipped his head under, then pulled it out and shook off, running his hand over his face. "It's good to be the Queen." He grinned, loving the private jacuzzi like bathing pool that only the upper leadership or those who'd been at the weyr for very long had, as far as he knew. "Or to know the queen's rider."

{{Or to ride the queen's rider}}

{Ithiel...}

{{Just echoing...}}

Dean made an exasperated sound.

Sam snickered at D'ean. "They can be irritatingly plain spoken, can't they?"

He took some soapsand over to the bronze rider but rather than handing it to D'ean, he turned Dean so his back was to him and began washing Dean's back, massaging some of the tenser muscles as he went. It had been going so very well at the dance until that bastard ruined it. Maybe they had been getting a little out of hand, but they were getting ready to go to a more private place, and they hadn't done any worse than he had seen many do in public. He wished fervently that he could recapture that moment. He moved his well lathered hands around to D'ean's chest as he stepped up close, pressing himself against his brother's backside. He was careful to ensure he ran his hands over D'ean's nipple a couple times as he ran his hands over D'ean's chest.

There was nothing wrong with Dean's senses, and he knew when someone was trying to seduce him. He turned his face to tell Sam to cut it out, but found his brother's mouth was closer than he'd thought. And his hands were moving over him just so, sending heat through his system. Their gazes locked. Dean closed the space between their mouths, kissing him at first very lightly, then again, with a bit more force.

Sam knew D'ean liked to take control of the kissing so as soon as D'ean started to kiss him, he opened his mouth in invitation as one of his hands slid lower, finding his dick and stroking it, fingering his balls in between each stroke. D'ean's kiss was sending blood straight to his own cock and he could feel himself getting harder as he moaned into his brother's mouth. He began a slow grind, his erection slipping under the cheeks of D'ean's ass and between his thighs. If things went badly tomorrow, really badly...no. They couldn't. But if they did...he wanted this to be a night to remember. For both of them.

As Sam's hand closed around him, touching him in a way he'd never been touched by a man before, Dean tensed only for a fraction of a second before his anxieties were washed away by waves of sheer pleasure. He moaned into the kiss, hardly able to breath or think when Sam's erection ground into him, a solid reminder of the intensity with which he'd wanted his brother when they'd been groping and kissing on that dance floor. Lifting one arm up, he cupped the back of Sam's head, forcing him closer, weaving his tongue in and out of his brother's mouth, exploring its silky depths and engaging Sam's tongue in a heated dance.

It was enough for a while, arching back, enjoying Sam's taste... the feel of his hand sliding up and down his shaft, playing with his sac, but Dean wanted to touch his brother, to run his hands over him, to explore his body... to learn it. Turning suddenly in Sam's arms, his brother still pumping him, Dean grasped Sam's hips and pulled him flush against his body as he melded his mouth over Sam's. Another groan broke out of him, far more satisfied by having control over the sitation.

Sam was a bit startled, but definitely pleased when D'ean turned in his arms. He continued to run his hand up and down D'ean hardened shaft until Dean' pulled him close and the pressure of D'ean against him made that too difficult. Having lost the pressure of Dean's ass against his member he groaned right back into Dean's mouth, thrusting against D'ean.

Pulling his head back, Dean licked the outline of Sam's lips, then tangled their tongues outside their mouths. With each slide of his hand over Sam's ass, up his back, pressing into firm muscles, heat inched through his veins. Needing firmer contact between them, he pushed Sam, walking him backwards to the edge of the pool, pressing him up against the wall.

Sam trusted his brother to guide him.

"Oh God... Sammy." Words that never should spill from his lips in this context, did, and right now, he didn't give a fuck. Sliding his hands down Sam's shoulders and arms, he clamped his hands around his brother's wrists and pulled his hands back behind him outside the pool... trapping him half leaning back as they kissed.

The way D'ean bent him back, covered him, kissed him, it was like a dream. It was what he had longed for. The touch of someone who loved him, someone who would make love to him, and never leave him. He wanted to wrap his arms around D'ean's shoulders but he needed his arms behind him to keep his balance, to keep the firm pressure up against D'ean's body.

"Love you," Sam whispered between their kisses. "Love you, D'ean."

It still wasn't enough, he wanted more of his brother, wanted all of D'ean, wanted his brother to touch him, to mark him and possess him body and soul. Just once, he wanted this special moment uninterrupted. He refused to think of what tomorrow might bring. He focused purely on the now. He pulled his head back as he let his elbows flex, making D'ean follow him if he wanted to keep kissing him.

His brother's words did things to Dean's insides, made him feel things ... a sense of elation, of completeness ... like he'd never felt before. "Mine, Sammy," he lifted his brother up and onto the side of the pool, quickly stepping between his thighs. "You're mine." As he kissed his brother, his hands moved possessively over his chest and sides, like they belonged there, had always belonged there. He wanted, needed to give Sam all the things he needed, that he'd said so many times that he'd missed out on in this life, this place. He wanted to show him what love could feel like, and he would do that.

"Yes," Sam agreed. "Yours." He sighed as he arched slightly against D'ean's possessive touches.

Dean laid open mouthed kisses down Sam's chest, his mouth slipping over wet hot skin, steam rising from Sam's body. Gripping Sam's thighs, he rearranged him, so that Sam's legs now rested over his shoulders, and Sam was leaning slightly back. Dean's arms curled over Sam's thighs and with one hand, he grasped his cock and brought it to his mouth.

Sam's groan was almost obscene as he bucked up a little as his tip was touched by those sweet lips.

Dean licked Sam's head, smiling at his brother's reaction, then licking him from base to tip. Licking him a few more times, he pulsed is tongue right under the head of Sam's cock, then locked gazes with Sam. "What do you want... tell me, I wanna hear it," he said, running his thumb along Sam's shaft, swallowing at how hard and big his brother had gotten.

D'ean expected him to be able to think after he'd just gotten through tonguing him like that or as his thumb rubbed his shaft? He forced his brain to work when all he really wanted was for D'ean to either curl his hand around around his cock, or to go back to using that fecking hot mouth on him.

"I want you inside me. I want you to touch me in ways I've never been touched. I want you to mark me for everyone to see and know. I want everyone to know that I'm yours and only yours."

"So fucking impatient, Sam," Dean gave him a look, pulled away and putting his palms flat on the side of the pool, pulled himself out of the water. Putting his hand out, he helped Sam up, and dragged him up against his body, cupping his ass as he kissed his throat, and walked him slowly backwards, staggering at times. "So you don't want to be licked... or sucked, just want to get down to it? How the hell did I misread you that badly?" Dean was talking to himself as much as to his brother as he maneuvered them toward Sam's bed.

Sam found it hard to concentrate as D'ean kissed him and practically had trouble walking. D'ean's words cut through him and he blushed bright red. "I just...I want you inside me when you come. I don't want you coming before then. I-I didn't want to tease you." If possible, he blushed even brighter. "I liked your mouth on me, like you did last time. I liked...you know...fecking up into your mouth."

"I like to be teased... nothing wrong with a bit of teasing." As he spoke, Dean curled his hand under Sam's ass, touching his sac, teasing him, making his point.

Sam ran his hands through D'ean's wet hair. "Lick me, suck me, make me scream your name," he whispered huskily. "And then I want to do it for you. I want to watch you come completely undone. I've never fecked a guy. I want to feck you. I want to feck you so badly it almost hurts."

Just as Sam's legs hit the edge of the bed, Dean registered Sam's last request. His eyes widened slightly. No way, there was no way he was taking it up the ass, not in this lifetime. He'd crossed a lot of lines, and he was about to cross more, but not that one. Cupping Sam's face with both hands, he kissed him, then pulled back. "By the time we're done, I promise you won't be hurting for anything, I promise Sam. But don't ask me to... I'm not comfortable with taking you, anyone, in me. Everything but that... we can work it out." He shoved Sam down onto the bed and watched him intently, searching his face.

Sam gave a small sad laugh. "If S'rance hadn't...raped me, I would probably be of the same opinion. But I still feel him there, D'ean, I don't care how many times I wash or shit, I still feel him there. I want to feel you there. I want that memory. Not the memory I have now. And D'ean, just one time, let me curl my fingers inside you one time, like you did for me. You might change your mind."

Dean just gave a 'no' shake of his head, but smiled, and was glad when Sam smiled back despite his refusal.

Spreading his legs wide, Sam grinned. "Make me want it twenty times worse this time." A flicker of almost panic crossed his face. "The sweet oil is in the other room. I don't really want you, you know, without some oil helping."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Deanie popped in, dropping the jar of oil onto the bed. He chortled happily, obviously proud of himself, then soared out into the other room. Sam threw his head back and laughed. "Thank you, Deanie," he called after him. He shifted his gaze back to his brother and gave him a slow sultry smile. "Okay, lover. I'm ready."

Dean's heart skipped at beat at the look that Sam was giving him. He cleared his throat. "Mind telling the 'animals' to keep out? This..." he put one knee on the bed, "is..." he put his other knee down and started to crawl over Sam, "just between us." Straddling Sam's hips, he picked up the oil, spread some between his palms and then rubbed a little on his still wet chest and abs. Then he poured a little on Sam and did the same. When he lowered himself over Sam and and started to kiss him, their bodies glided over each other. "Mmmm, where were we?" He asked, rolling over onto his back, so that Sam was on top of him, his mouth, never leaving his brother's.

His already hard cock seemed to swell and stiffen that much more when D'ean slid on top of him, the man's mouth capturing his own. He welcomed that tongue inside him and combed his fingers through D'ean's hair. He was a little surprised to find himself on top. That seemed to be D'ean's thing, to be on top, to be in control. Sam broke the kiss and grinned down at him.

"About ready to fornicate in public, I think," he chuckled, pushing the memory of the interruption from his mind. That would take him places he did not want to go. He loved that D'ean had oiled them up and slowly slid down D'ean's chest just a bit, kissing the side of his mouth, then trailing light kisses down his cheek to his earlobe. He sucked on his earlobe then ran his tongue down the side of D'ean's neck, nipping and pausing to suck now and again. When he reached the base of his brother's neck he bit harder and worked on putting his mark there, running his hand up and down D'ean's side and the other playing with one of D'ean's nipples. He pulled back occasionally then went back to work. He wanted this to be a definite, easily seen hickey.

"Nothing wrong with a little fornication... sides, what we were doing is just called dirty dancing in... Kansas," he managed to mutter, as Sam kissed, and touched, and licked and sucked him. He was about to tell him that he was going to leave a bruise if he kept that up, when he realized little brother was doing it intentionally. "You marking me? So highschool, Sammy," he said, his voice thick with emotion and at odds with the lightness of his words. He stroked Sam's back, his hands gliding up and down over Sam's broad shoulders and to his narrow waist. He squeezed his ass, pulling him closer, biting his lip as their cocks made firmer contact.

Finally please with his handwork, Sam slid down further and went to work on D'ean's nipples, sucking and nibbling. Pinching was easy, twisting was a little harder with the sweet oil there. He made it a point to clean those erect nubs of flesh clean of the oil so he could do just that. He rubbed his erection beside D'ean's own as he spent time on sucking and licking at Dean's chest before finally sliding lower. Wrapping his arms around the man's waist, he turned his focus to D'ean's belly button, licking at it and tongue fucking it, nipping at the skin around it, the licking over the bites to soothe their sting. He smiled, lust in his eyes as he looked up at D'ean, never breaking his gaze as he slid his mouth down to D'ean's cock, kissing its tip and raining kisses down and back up Dean's member.

"Holy hell." Dean lay back, bracing on his elbows, raising his hips and nudging his cock against Sam's mouth. "Take me in your mouth." The thought of his cock disappearing past those red lips of Sam's had Dean tied up in knots. When his brother's mouth merely glanced off his blunt tip, he moaned. "You're such a tease."

{Do people on Pern believe you can die from blue balls.}

{{I'll ask Sam.}}

{No!} Dean made an exasperated sound. "Need your mouth on me, Sam. Make me feel good, suck me."

"You said there was nothing wrong with teasing," Sam laughed lightly. "What was it you said to me? Not until you want it ten times worse?"

"Always were too damned good a student," Dean answered, his gaze hot and needy.

Sam went to work on D'ean's cock, wrapping his tongue around it, licking across the slit, putting his lips on the very tip and sucking gently. Moving down to D'ean's balls he sucked lightly, ran his tongue up the side of his brother's cock, then back down to nuzzle at the other ball. He remembered how good it felt, that spot right under the crown and played his tongue there, then continued to investigating every inch of D'ean's cock with his mouth and tongue, holding the man's hips firm. He toyed with the underside of D'ean's sack, and then ran his tongue further down until he licked across D'ean's hole. Pausing, he did that again, He had never made love to a man before and the feel of that puckered flesh, that enticing hole, was so different. Sliding his hand to D'ean's cock, he began to pump it slowly, not wanting to torture his brother too much as he focused on this new spot.

"Oh God..." Dean did his best not to buck up, to allow Sam to explore, to lick and suck him almost too lightly. Every touch, every wet trail Sam left, every teasing suck inflamed Dean's desire. His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as his fingers dug into the bed cloths. "More... more," he demanded, eyes widening as Sam's tongue went to his hole. His heart rammed against his chest. He allowed it for another moment, surprised at how sensitive he was there, and then he reached out, tangling his fingers in his brother's hair and slowly pulling him up slightly. "I'm at times ten. Suck me. Please Sammy... want to be in your mouth, want to fuck it so bad."

Sam let D'ean pull him away from that intriguing little spot. "At ten huh?" Sam teased. "You sure?"

The look in D'ean's eyes told him he was. With a broad grin, still pumping his brother's dick with his hand, he brought the tip to his mouth and took in the crown. He sucked on it, moaning in pleasure, then went down just a little further, sucking as he pulled up and almost off. Then a little further, repeating until D'ean was pratically in a frenzy and his nose was being tickled by his brother's pubic hairs. Okay maybe he had pushed D'ean to a twenty, he thought with a chuckle. Bracing himself with his hands on either side of D'ean, he went all the way down on D'ean then pulled off halfway. He tickled D'ean's cock with his tongue, wrapped his lips firmly around D'ean's blood engorged dick and began to go down on him until he didn't need to, until D'ean was fucking up into his mouth.

One hand on his brother's shoulder, the other in his hair, Dean thrust into his mouth, cursing... fecking ... fucking... he had no idea which it was right now, all he knew was that he was sheathed inside Sam's warm mouth, that he needed this, was dying for it. "Oh yeah... God yeah, Sam." As if he knew exactly what he needed, Sam sucked him hard, causing a deep groan to break from Dean. He started to move his hips faster, with desperation, and then he remembered what Sam said... wanted. "Oh God... stop now...." he suddenly said, arching up off the mattress as he cock slipped from Sam's mouth. "So good..." he answered the questions in Sam's eyes, "but I want to be inside you, when I come," he said, echoing Sam's wish.

Sam was trying his hardest to give his brother everything he needed so was a little surprised when D'ean pulled out. His first thought was that D'ean had decided he couldn't do this. Again. But then D'ean's words went straight to his heart. D'ean was going to wait just to give Sam what he had asked for.

Dean dragged his brother up his body, their mouths meeting in a heated kiss. He tried not to buck against Sam, needing no stimulation, he was that close to the edge. The kiss went on and on, Dean trying to calm his body, the terrible urge to fuck Sam already.

{{Well why don't you... just fly him.}}

{Oh my God, stay out of my head during sex!}

That helped cool Dean off a little. Closing his arms tight around Sam, he rolled them over, so he was on top. Using his knee, he parted Sam's legs and leaned in, his thigh hitting Sam's sac, his body trapping Sam's cock between them as he moved against him, kissing his throat and chest, grazing his nipples with his teeth then licking him, soothing him. "Gonna be inside you Sam, gonna fuck you. Gonna make you mine."

"I'm already yours," Sam whispered, moaning as D'ean rubbed against him, as his mouth slid over him and teased him. It took great effort, but he looked away from that wondrous image of D'ean kissing him all over. He found the sweet oil and set it down near his hips for D'ean to reach. The thought of D'ean being in him made him both elated and fearful. What if all he could picture was S'rance fucking him? What if he panicked?

{{You will not panic. He loves you. He wants to fly you,}} Merith reassured him. {{You are as safe in his arms as you think you are.}}

The moment of tension, of fear melted away as D'ean continued to kiss him. It was D'ean. It was his brother. It was the rider of his dragon's love. There would be no hitting, no whipping, no bondage. He could even say no and he knew D'ean would stop. Even if it practically killed him, he would stop.

"Feck me, D'ean," he breathed as he arched into those talented lips.

"Thought you'd never ask," Dean answered just as breathlessly, kissing him one last time. He started to push Sam to turn around, but something stopped him. "No, it's all right, just like this," he said, pushing Sam back down onto his back where he could see everything. Sam breathed a little sigh of relief. He didn't want to have D'ean behind him. He wanted to see him...just so he knew it was really D'ean invading him.

D'ean liberally applied sweet oil to his fingers, then had Sam put his knees up. Eyes locked with his brother, a promise in his that it would be all right, that nothing would hurt him, Dean started to apply the oil to Sam's hole and worked a finger inside. At the same time, he kissed Sam's inner thigh, moving his mouth up and down, trying to distract him.

Gasping, Sam clenched a little around D'ean's finger as it enter him, as he felt the slight burn, but Dean's lips certainly did their job and he moaned. He remembered that spot inside of him that made sparkles appear before his eyes. He made himself relax. It was D'ean he kept telling himself. D'ean. And he wanted D'ean inside him, washing away anything S'rance, cleansing his body's tenaciously held memory of the fecking bastard. He rocked a little on the finger. It felt good, now that he had relaxed some.

As Dean inserted another finger, he bit Sam's thigh, smiling against it.

"Shards!" Sam cursed not sure if it hurt more than it felt good.

He knew that Sam had hardly felt the entrance of his second finger, not when he was complaining about the bite. "I know, I'm such a savage. I'll kiss it better," he teased, then made good on is word. "Lift you hips a little."

Sam didn't even think as he did what D'ean asked. Then D'ean was curling his fingers iniside Sam, searching, finding the gland that seemed to affect him. Sam let out a cry of pure pleasure.

"Gonna be inside you... gonna touch you like that... just like that... gonna fuck you Sam."

"Feck me now," Sam begged, writhing under D'ean's magic fingers.

"When you want it ten times worse," Dean teased, but pulled his fingers out and soaked them in more oil, lubing Sam's entrance. On his knees, between his brother's legs, he aligned the blunt tip of his cock to Sam's entrance. He pushed slightly. "Relax for me, baby. Like its my fingers," he said thickly, pushing again, this time harder.

Sam did as his brother told him, relaxing as best he could, feeling the lube, feeling the burn but not the ripping injury of S'rance's violent attacks.

As he breached the tight ring of muscle, Dean threw his head back and groaned out his pleasure. "So tight... so good Sam," he said through gritted teeth, once he was all the way inside and leaning over Sam. He stayed still, waiting for his brother to adjust, kissing him lightly, holding back... using every bit of control he had even as his body, every nerve, every molecule screamed for him to fuck Sam... fuck him now. Sweat dripped from his forhead.

It hurt some, he felt so full, D'ean was bigger than S'rance, but it also felt good. He saw how his brother was struggling, was trying to let him get used to him. He'd practically tortured D'ean. He wouldn't with this. He wrapped his legs around D'ean's waist and pulled him in deeper, wincing a little, having to let himself get used to D'ean's bulk even though he didn't want to wait, then he started to pump a little against him. "Don't hold back," he said as he stroked D'ean's hair. "Make me yours."

"Shshsh..." Dean took a couple gasps of air, hardly moving as he allowed Sam to do all the lifting. "Want this to be perfect... perfect for you," he insisted, every muscle in his body straining as he held back. "You deserve better... you Goddamn have to demand better," he said, closing his eyes as Sam tightened his powerful legs around his waist and practically forced him to sink inside him, balls deep.

Sam had no idea what Dean meant. It was perfect. They were together. They were both hard and aroused and D'ean was inside him. Who could possibly be better than his own brother making love to him?

Lifting himself up, Dean pulled out a little, then pushed back inside, his eyes on Sam's face, watching for any hint of pain or panic. He licked his lips, pulled out almost all the way and in a single thrust was buried inside his brother again, eyes closing as white hot heat coursed through his body. Lowering his head, he gave Sam a hard kiss, then started to move. He started to thrust, a little faster, a little harder each time, trying to hit the right spot, the one that would have Sam just as crazy with need.

Sam loved every moment of it. All his fear of panicking washed away as D'ean kissed him with such passion. The first time D'ean hit his prostate, he cried out, trembling, instinctively tightening his legs and pulled D'ean's in deep as he arched. He began to move with D'ean, lifting up and together they found that spot that had Sam coming undone everytime D'ean brushed it with his cock. He wrapped his arms tightly around D'ean and returned the kiss hungrily, practically devouring D'ean mouth, taking over the kiss, groaning with D'ean every stroke.

"Oh yeah... yeah Sammy, good, just like that," he said, angling his thrusts, long, alternating with short strokes. Each time he felt Sam shudder, Dean's entire body reacted. He started fucking harder, groaning as Sam clenched around him, squeezing him with his velvetty heat. "Oh God... so good Sam," he whispered, kissing him again, then sucking on the side of his throat, tasting his Sam, his brother.

{{You're flying him, you're flying Sam.}} There was a note of approval in Ithiel's tone.

{Goddamn it Ithiel... shut the fuck up, I don't wanna lose it. Bet Merith isn't chit chatting with Sam.}

Dean moved harder, faster, the blood starting to pound at his temples. Lust was riding him now, like he was riding Sam. "So good baby, fuck..." They moved in synch, Sam's legs pushing and pulling him, helping as he strained to get closer, to be deeper inside his brother. He started to tongue fuck Sam to the same rhythm as his thrusts, moving in and out, not holding back anymore... taking what he needed, what they both needed.

"D'ean" was about all Sam managed to chant over and over intermixed with the occasional "fecking good" as he took D'ean inside him again and again. It felt better than he thought it possibly could have. He could tell when D'ean lost all restraint, pumping harder and faster and Sam matched him, his cock brushed by D'ean's body every time D'ean pushed in. The way D'ean's tongue thrust in his mouth, the way his cock thrust inside his ass, he was reaching his peak and this time he wanted to come, would feel no shame in coming. He let out a cry of pure pleasure into Dean's mouth as his come shot free, further slicking their skin as rope after rope coated them both.

"That's it... that's it," Dean encouraged as his own balls drew up tight against his body. As Sam came, Dean moved his hand between them, his hand sliding up and down Sam's wet abs and chest. He suddenly stiffened and throwing his head back, he shouted, "Saaam!" The intensity of his orgasm had him seeing white, had his fingers biting into his brother's flesh, had him bucking one last time as he filled his brother with his hot cum. "Oh God... oh God..." he looked down, gave Sam a smile, then collapsing down over him, giving him a messy kiss.

He licked his lips, kissed Sam again, then slowly pulled out and rolled onto his back, turning his head toward his brother. He ran a finger across Sam's lower lip. "So?"

Sam was still catching his breath when D'ean rolled off of him. D'ean could have laid on top of him all night and he would have been quite content. He opened his mouth and caught D'ean's finger, sucking it into his mouth. He sucked on it for a minute before releasing it and then rolled onto his side, facing his brother.

"Better. You might have to do that a few more times, you know, to make certain there's nothing but you in there." He grinned and kissed D'ean. "You need to get some sleep. Dawn comes early."

"There's nothing there but me," Dean said with finality, his hand on his brother's back, pulling him close as they kissed one more time. Once Sam settled his head down on his chest, Dean closed his eyes. "If you ah... want anything, you know, in the middle of the night? Wake me." A smug smile spread over his face as he whispered, "g'nite Sammy."

"I want you to win tomorrow," Sam said softly as he closed his eyes.

"Little thing called faith." It was all Dean said, as he fell asleep.

* * *


It was early. Usually, Sam woke before him. But today, knowing he had a fight ahead of him, Dean had slipped out of their bed more than an hour before dawn and bathed. Ithiel had asked him why he was in such a good mood, and the dragon was perplexed to hear it was because he'd 'been laid.' Now mostly dressed, he ordered breakfast for both of them, and returned to sit on the edge of the bed, and shook Sam. "Wake up, sleepy."

Sam slowly opened his eyes and saw his brother sitting there. He smiled contentedly. "Morning." Practically jack-knifing up, his eyes wide, he asked, "What time is it? Is it almost dawn? Why did you let me sleep so late?" He threw back his covers exposing his nakedness. He really needed a bath, dried cum and sweet oil still on his stomach and chest.

"It's not late, and all you gotta do is show up," Dean winked. "I ordered breakfast, so don't ah... you know, wander out of the bathroom... erm privy without something on." Smacking Sam's ass, he got up.

"You should stretch out, warm up," Sam scolded him as he hurried into the bathroom and almost immediately afterwards got a quick bath. He heard breakfast arrive and could smell the klah while he was drying off. He pulled on some fresh clothes. Deanie had already settled on the smaller table where a platter of cubes of raw meat had been set. He gobbled them down, occasionally glancing between the men as Sam came out.

Settling into a chair, he saw that D'ean had gone with his typical sandwich and had ordered fruit and a half sandwich for Sam. Sam took a drink of the klah and then popped a piece of fruit in his mouth. After swallowing he asked, "Do you know the rules of a challenge?"

"Rules... there are rules." He had the grace to look a bit sheepish as he stuffed the sandwich in his mouth and looked at Sam for an explanation.

Giving an exasperated huff, Sam nodded. "Of course. Most important is if the other yields, you must accept. If you disarm your opponent you don't have to allow him to retrieve his sword but you can if you wish. The challenge can stop at first blood. At first blood, the bloodied is permitted to yield if they so choose. To kill an unarmed opponent is considered cowardly. For one dragonrider to kill another is almost unheard of because you are essentially killing a dragon as well. Once the battle is over, it is over. Honor has been restored. If you are disarmed and refuse to yield and your opponent will not permit you to retrieve your sword, you have still lost and lost all rights to ever challenge again."

Sam continued educating D'ean in the other subtleties of the challenge, the position when starting, the proper ritual words for beginning and ending the battle. He hadn't even thought that D'ean wouldn't know these things and wished he had thought to go over them all the night before.

{{The sun is near rising, My Impressed,}} Merith told Sam. {{It is time. Ithiel's riding harness is outside the door. I requested it brought down for D'ean.}}

{Always on top of things for me, aren't you?}

{{I believe it was D'ean who was on top of you last night}}

Sam flushed a little. {Don't you start picking up habits from Ithiel.}

Merith and Ithiel both snorted in amusement.

Sam took another long drink of klah then retrieved the riding harness as well as D'ean's jerkin and sword. After D'ean was set he wrapped his arms around D'ean and kissed him. "Don't you dare get yourself killed."

"Don't be such a girl, I'm going to be fine." Dean lightly slapped Sam's cheek, then holding his hand there, kissed him again. Pulling away, his heart fell slightly at the thought he'd have to ride down to the damned hold. He didn't complain though, merely following Sam's lead and put the straps onto Ithiel and scratched his eyeridge. "Oh God, not you too." Dean let out a breath as he had to listen to more pleas, this time from his dragon, that he not let himself get killed.

"Seriously, guys... I'm gonna be fine." He started to mount when a knock sounded, and they both turned to find the Weyrleader walking in, looking serious.

K'tol shook his head. "I warned you D'ean."

"I didn't challenge him," Dean's eyes held rebellion in them. "Did you have this talk with S'rance, or does he always get to skate?"

"Skate? I know not what you mean, and yes, I had this talk with him. You are not to kill each other. Draw blood, then stop. Neither this Weyr nor Pern can stand the loss of a bronze, not over your egos."

"Egos?" Dean's chin jutted upwards. "It's called protecting your own, you should know what I'm talking about."

It was hard to tell whether K'tol's flush was one of embarrassment or anger. Frankly Dean didn't care. He held the man responsible for what happened to Sam in that flightroom, and nothing would change his mind.

"Mind what I told you. Samuel," K'tol held the goldrider's gaze for a long moment, knowing Sam understood his duties better than most, before turning on his heels and leaving.

"D'ean, K'tol is right. Please stop at first blood. It doesn't matter what S'rance did. That's in the past. All that matters is that we're together and S'rance will never have me again. I'm okay, Brother. So long as you're with me, I'm fine."

He pushed Dean gently toward Ithiel. "Now c'mon, let's get down there."

Sam went to Merith's side and climbed onto her back.

{{I think it will be today,}} Merith said matter of fact.

{What will,} Sam asked as Merith turned and launched herself into the sky, bugling.

{{My eggs. I think it shall be today that I lay them. They are near ready.}}

{Couldn't you have waited until after the fight to tell me?} Sam complained. He was already fecking nervous enough. The thought that they would find out today for certain that Merith's eggs were healthy or not, at least at first blush, didn't help.

{{He will be fine. He is a better swordsman than you are, you know. He was holding back.}}

{What?} Sam said, exasperation in his tone.

{{'T'is true.}} Her voice was light. {{Stop worrying, My Impressed.}}

"Sure," Sam muttered. "Just as soon as this whole fecking thing is behind us."

* * *

All the waiting around was what bugged Dean. A small crowd was gathering, and S'rance was trying to browbeat people into standing with him, as if the number of supporters made a fucking difference. He caught the menacing look S'rance aimed in Sam's direction, as well as the boastful comments about putting Dean where he belonged.

{{Curanth says His is emotional today. Intervention might be needed.}} When Dean paid him no attention other than to give him a brash response, Ithiel started to tell Sam, but Dean must have guessed because he quickly told Ithiel not to agitate Sam who was already nervous.

S'rance shot his mouth off again, walking closer and insulting Dean.

"Cram it with walnuts, ugly," Dean responded, giving him the middle finger, and earning some nervous laughs. Sam stood with people who were there in his support, Steward Giles, warrior Alon, riders Z'rlin and Dielle, and others.

Z'rlin spoke softly to Sam. "I know you feared always B'tan would challenge S'rance. Is this one good with a sword? Can he defeat S'rance?"

"Yes," Sam said simply, hoping he was correct. "I just hope he does not kill him."

"If it weren't for Curanth I'd like to see him spitted and roasted," Z'rlin said.

"We could make up a list," Dielle added helpfully. "Whipped, flayed, skinned..." He winced when his dragon scolded him for such thoughts.

"It's starting," Sam said, his breath catching a moment in his throat.

Guran motioned for the two men to stand in front of each other, and quickly reviewed the rules of challenge for them. "Good luck, and fight fair," he said, moving out of the way.

A moment passed. "Dude, you waiting for an invitation?" Dean asked.

The angry flush that crawled up S’rance’s face made his white scars stand out. Unsheathing and slashing his weapon to one side, he attacked.



Right from the start, both men were out for blood. Their blades rang out, clashing, sliding together. Their grunts echoed in the silence as the riveted crowd watched, as tense as the participants. Neither one gave quarter, testing each others’ limits.



S’rance pressed forward, eyes blazing with hate. “You are nothing. You came from nowhere. You will die a nobody,” he snarled when they were fighting close range.



“I can understand why you're mad. It’s hard to lose to a nobody, isn’t it?” Dean pushed him off, but found himself under stronger attack. S’rance’s sword slashed with ever quickening motions, with Dean making a circle around the yard, walking backwards, ducking and hopping over S’rance’s blade as he defended himself.



There were some startled gasps as S’rance’s sword sliced D’ean’s jerkin, cutting his sleeve. Sam almost found himself hoping there would be blood, but he feared if there was that D'ean would not yield.



No blood.



Dean cracked his neck, smiling the instant S’rance’s gaze fell on the red mark on his throat and anger flared in the man's eyes.



{{Be careful, Mine. You antagonize him, and he is already imbalanced.}}



Just as S’rance’s blade threatened to bite into his shoulder, Dean did a back-flip out of the way, causing a stir. The blood vessel stood out on S’rance’s temple as he redoubled his efforts. Dean was still defending, frustrating the hell out of the other bronzerider as he dodged his blows, sidestepped them, and made sure his sword glanced off his own.



Marks started exchanging hands. More people bet on a victory by S’rance, he was a known quantity, but many saw that they were evenly matched, and this new Bronzerider, who was said to be slightly ‘off’, had tricks they’d not seen before.


Sam scowled at them, but Z'rlin nudged him in the ribs. "You know bets always happen. Don't get stirred up."



Sam clenched his jaw and turned to the one who was handling the bets. Loudly, Sam said, "Twenty marks on D'ean."



The crowd murmured at the outrageous sum but the handler of the marks gave Sam a nod. "Twenty marks Goldrider."



Sam hoped both the mean heard him, declaring his faith in D'ean and his certainty than S'rance would lose.



Dean met Sam’s eyes, saw the worry in them. {Alright, Ithiel, tell Sam playtime is over.} Tossing his sword up in the air, Dean sidestepped and moved behind S’rance, grabbing his hilt out of the air and reversing their positions. He started to drive S’rance back, making each slash of his sword count, seeing the frustration building in S’rance each time he foiled S’rance’s efforts to turn the tables.



S’rance swept his leg around, sure he would hit D’ean in the gut. The crowd’s shouts echoed in his mind as D’ean somersaulted over his leg, then slammed his hand into his back, sending S'rance flying face forward toward the ground.



“That’s for being a bastard. Get up,” Dean ground out. “Get up.”



Sam couldn't help it, he felt a smile slide onto his face at seeing S'rance face down in the dirt.



The battle resumed, only now there was a sense of urgency, as if only one of the two men would walk out of it. It was no longer a sword fight, it was a fight where anything went. There were no rules.



Dean felt S’rance’s elbow slam into his jaw, his lip was cut, bleeding, but it didn’t count. It had to be the blade for a winner to be called. There could only be one winner and Dean was damned if it was going to be S’rance. Snarling, he attacked, their swords clashing so hard a shower of sparks fell around them. He saw an opening, took it, kicking S’rance in the chest and shoving him half way across the yard. “That’s for being a bully,” he said as he advanced. A few movements of their clashing blades later, he’d drawn a line down the side of S’rance’s face. “That... is for being a rapist and a murderer.”



The line bled red.



Dean’s gaze locked with S’rance’s. Don’t yield.



Ithiel informed Sam of what was in Dean’s heart.



{You think I don't know D'ean wants him dead?} Sam snapped at him.


“Come on douchbag, your move. Don’t tell me you don’t want it... me buried six feet under. Come get me,” he taunted, stepping back, but sword trained toward S’rance.

Holding his breath, it took everything in Sam not to yell to S'rance, to tell him how good it felt to have D'ean inside him last night. Merith forbade him from egging S'rance on. Curanth did not deserve to pay for the obsession of his rider. Reluctantly, Sam kept his mouth shut. He would enjoy telling it to S'rance's face more anyhow. Assuming D'ean didn't kill him.

"Come get me asshole," he beckoned S'rance by closing and opening his hand. "Come on... fuckin--"

"I yield," S'rance snarled.

"Fuck!" Dean tossed his sword, watching it bury itself into the ground, hilt standing straight up. Not very happy, he started to head for Sam, his hand almost deliberately going to the bruise Sam had sucked into his throat.

Rage boiled over. S'rance forgot his orders, forgot where they were and all the witnesses, forgot everything but his desire for the blood of the man who had ruined everything. Six feet under... yes, it's where he wanted to put him. Pulling a dagger from his boot, he threw it.

Sam saw the way S'rance's face twisted in rage, saw his hand go for his boot. "D'ean!" he shouted, dashing toward his brother. Before D'ean could react, Deanie popped in, shielding his namesake. The blade pierced deep in Deanie's side and the firelizard screamed as it fell to the ground.

The burning blade might as well have been in his own gut. Sam charged S'rance and tackled him, pulling his own daggar and burying it in the man's shoulder. He began to pound S'rance with his fists. "You conniving bastard, you fecking sick rapist. You stole my life! You killed Selina! You killed Deanie! You tried to kill my brother!"

S'rance was no small man and he began to try to fight back but Sam's skill and fury made him no match for Sam. Sam kneed him hard in the balls. He twisted the blade in S'rance's shoulder then yanked it out. Slicing open S'rance's pants he ripped them open and shoved the man's dick out of the way. "You aren't going to ever fecking rape anyone again!"

Before he could complete his intention of castrating his nemesis, K'tol caught his arm.

"No, Samuel," K'tol said calmly. "He will be dealt with. It is not your place."

Dean loomed above both men, ready to interfere as necessary. "Dealt with, like last time?" That was all he said, as he put is hand out and pulled Sam up. "Let's go see about your firelizard." For once, he didn't make a face when he talked about Sam's brave pet. He hoped his words would calm Sam, help him relax a little even under the circumstances.

{Is Deanie...?}
{{He still breathes,}} Merith answered him soothingly.

Deanie lay on the ground making soft whimpering chirps. He unfurled one wing and it slowly dropped closer to the ground. Tears rolled down Sam's face as he discarded his knife and, letting go of D'ean's hand, strode to his beloved firelizard's side.

"Don't you touch him!" the old healer woman said, yelling at Sam. "Let me see that creature, see if anything can be done."

"Leandra," Sam breathed. Sam stroked Deanie's eye ridge with one finger. "You did so good, little one. I'm so very proud of you."

Deanie chirped at him, a note of pride in his voice.

Leandra reached down and examined the blade that still penetrated the firelizard's flesh. She tsked and shook her head. "Maybe. Maybe. I make no promises, Samuel."

She kept the blade in place, securing it with scarves. She had the young boy Kelsy bring one of the platters from the kitchen. She looked up at D'ean. "Help me move him." Shifting her gaze to Sam, she said firmly, "You do not touch him. You will feel his pain and might jerk as we move him, damaging him further."

Jontae, the healer from the weyr, joined her. "If we both work on Deanie?"

Leandra nodded. "Yes, that may help. Once the blade is pulled free, we have little time. Stomach wounds can lead too quickly to going between."

Sam gasped at the sensation of pain that echoed in him when Deanie was moved, but stood and followed alongside, crooning to Deanie, reassuring the little bronze that he would be okay, that he was too brave to go between, that Sam needed him too very much.

Dean tried to keep as steady as possible, very aware that each time the firelizard was jostled, Sam paid a price as well. "You did good, little guy," he added to Sam's praises. "Just hang on, all right? Be brave."

{I'm talking to a firelizard...}

{{He saved your life.}}

{Think he'll be alright?}

{{The healers will know.}}

They reached the healer's room and walked inside. Dean set the wooden plank down gently, then moved to stand by Sam, putting an arm around his back.

"If Deanie dies," Sam said, "S'rance is going to pay in ways he never dreamed. And I can do it without hurting Curanth. I already have that all planned out."

Jontae handed Dean a wineskin and waved at a goblet. "Get some wine down Sam, it'll help." Jontae and Leandra worked in tandem, almost silently, each seeming to know eaxactly what the other one planned.

Nodding, Dean grabbed Sam's arm and held the goblet out. "Sam..." his tone said they weren't going to argue about this.

Sam sat down and accepted the wine D'ean gave him, wincing as he felt them work on his beloved pet. The bond between fire lizard and impressed was not that of a dragon, but Sam still felt some level of Deanie's fear and pain.

Leandra finally straightened, and wiping her hands clean, walked over to Sam. "He is a strong little lizard, he is fighting hard. We won't know for awhile but I do not believe he will go between in the next few hours. You can serve him best by getting a meal in yourself and staying strong for him. Come back later this morning. You can do nothing more right now. He is asleep."

Nodding, Sam stood and walked over to Deanie. "You fight, Deanie. Don't you dare let S'rance take you away. You fight hard." He rubbed his lizard's eye ridges for a moment then headed out into the hall.

{{The eggs, My Impressed. They come. Hurry if you wish me to fly us to the sands.}}

Sam grabbed D'ean's hand and broke into a run. "Merith is getting ready to lay her eggs. She needs to get to the hatching sands. C'mon."

"What?" Dean allowed Sam to drag him out of the healer's quarters. They ran through the yard where there was still a lot of activity and people yelling congratulatory comments. "Hold on." Pulling free of Sam, Dean walked up to the bookie and put his hand out. Once he got Sam's sizeable winnings, he headed back to him and they jogged to the open area where the dragons would touch down.

Merith landed, Ithiel right beside her. Sam practically leapt into the saddle and Merith wasted no time getting airborne. She flew to the bowl, flying in through the large archway and settled into the warm sands. Sam dismounted and quickly pulled the riding harness off of her.

When D'ean joined him, Sam told him, "Usually it takes two or three days for a dragon to lay all her eggs, but with the small clutches being laid, the first couple eggs will be very telling.

{{I do not intend to spend three days laying my eggs,}} Merith said, almost annoyed. {{A day at most.}}

She shuffled around in the sands. The news had spread instantly and the bowl was filling with other dragonriders and those of the weyr. Merith began the slow and careful process of expelling the soft shells and within the hour she had already laid seven eggs, one of which she had shifted a bit from the others.

{Is that a queen?} Sam asked her.

She didn't respond immediately. After a minute she flicked him a gaze while she rested and panted. {{Okay, perhaps two days.}}

Sam laughed a little. {So will you tell me now? How many eggs?}

{{About forty three. At least two queens. Possibly a third. I can't be sure of the deeper eggs. Seven to ten bronze I believe. I believe they shall all be healthy.}}

Sam passed the news to the other riders and hugged D'ean with one arm. "This is good news D'ean. She's laying more eggs in one clutch than has been laid in almost two turns on all of Pern. And more queens."

"You're a daddy! A mommy!" Dean laughed at his brother, but hugged him back. "Guess that makes me an uncle, huh? Or ... something. Ithiel, help me out here."

{{It makes you a lunatic, that's what they'll say. It's better if you stop talking now, Mine.}}

He laughed louder. "Ithiel just told me to shut the fuck up."

{{I do not use foul language,}} the affronted dragon protested.

Sam settled down on one of the benches to watch his dragon. He could feel her stress and effort as she went about the business of laying the precious eggs. It had been such a terrible and wonderful day he didn't really know what to feel. Numbness was all that seemed to fill him. D'ean had almost died. Deanie might yet. Merith's eggs had finally come and she promised they were healthy and numerous. So long as Deanie lived, it would be a good day. Deanie just had to live. He wondered what K'tol was going to do with S'rance. For S'rance to have tried to kill D'ean, to knife him in the back after he had already yielded. It was almost unthinkable. But after everything else S'rance had done through the turns...or at least the memories of what S'rance had done...

"I want my memories back D'ean," Sam said softly. "I want to remember my real life. It was a good life, right?"

Dean ran a hand over his face, eyes on the sands, trying to collect his thoughts. "It was a complicated life. More complicated, than good."

Sam pulled D'ean down beside him and kissed him gently. He ran his hand along side D'ean's face. He had almost lost his brother. "Am I better off with these memories? Only knowing this life? If I get my memories back, will I lose you?"

Stiffening slightly because of the presence of the crowd, Dean put a little distance between them. "I don't know Sam, I really don't. But I wish you had them back, cause then we'd know, you know? It wouldn't be like we're waiting for something to happen." He licked his lips. "There were a lot of good times, a lot of little things to be happy about, a lot of victories. But there were a lot of losses too." Remembering himself catching his brother, watching him die in his arms, Dean looked away. "It's possible you're better off here. There are less evil things, and we may have gotten rid of one of them today."

Seeing the way D'ean was uncomfortable, Sam shook his head. Victories. Losses. Complicated. He fought back the swelling sadness in him. He should be happy that S'rance finally showed his true colors in public, in a forum he couldn't deny. He and D'ean should be celebrating. Merith was laying eggs. More celebration. Deanie was not dead...yet anyhow. Hope there. And still...could he not have some happiness, happiness that lasted, that was not shadowed by terrible things?

He pushed himself to his feet. {Keep up the good work, Merith,} Sam said to her fondly and turned to head into the weyr.

{What did I do?} Dean asked.

{{He is probably emotional, as is Merith,}} Ithiel answered.

"Emotional... great," pushing up off the bench, Dean followed Sam. When they were inside the cool darkness of the caverns, he called out. "Hey, you want company or..." Standing there, he cocked his head and spread his arms.

Sam dredged up a small smile. "I don't know what I want, D'ean. I'm okay. I'm just...it's been a long day already and it's not even midday. Your fight was stressful. The egg laying is stressful. Deanie is sleeping but still in pain. And you...I know you're still not comfortable with me as your lover. I get that. I really do. And I know this has to be hard on you, in a world so different from Kansas." He laughed a little. "And hardly here and suddenly connected to a dragon and having a fear of flying on top of it all. I think you are holding up much better than I would." Sam held out his hand to D'ean. "Company would be good. I feel very alone at the moment."

Looking at Sam's hand, Dean took a few long strides and closed his around Sam's, threading their fingers together. "Last night was... amazing. I'm not uncomfortable with that, not here... not in your room, not outside of..." he took a deep breath. "Public displays might take some getting used to, or... you know, a couple drinks, like when we were dancing. As for the rest, maybe you need to try to enjoy the good things... you know, live in the moment. Worrying about the past and the future, it can drive you fucking nuts... and does no good, believe me." He was no good at this, Goddamit. If only Merith would hurry up and lay her eggs so she could give Sam the 'heart to heart' he seemed to need.

"I'll start keeping a wineskin on me. Or get you a flask of moondew to keep on you then," Sam teased. "Living in the moment, I've never really been able to do that. The threat of what S'rance might do in response to any of my interactions with others was always on my mind. I guess that's a new skill I'll have to learn. Do you live in the moment?"

"More or less, yeah," he nodded. He started walking with Sam, then stopped suddenly, looking at him. "You wanna go for a swim? Or you know, do something? We could toilet paper S'rance's room yellow," he smirked, but didn't know if that would make any sense at all to Sammy.

A swim in the lake. That actually sounded kind of nice. He had no idea what the other suggestion meant. It would feel good to get out in the sun. He could go to the lake without feeling those lechorous eyes on him. He brightened considerably at that idea. With S'rance gone, he might acutally be able to have something approaching a normal life. For a dragonrider at least.

"Yeah, let's go for a swim. Then we can go check on Deanie."

"Okay then... guess we'll just have to hijack someone to give you a ride. It'll be my first time seeing Ithiel playing in the water." A fond look crossed his face, even though his dragon was vehemently denying he would 'play.' "I'll need to get some swim trunks, unless part of your evil plan is to get me naked and fuck like crazy on the sand... no wait, that's more a 'me' plan." Smirking, he walked faster toward Sam's weyr, hoping the thought would simmer in his too-serious brother's mind.

"There are plenty who will," Sam assured him. He smiled, yeah it would be D'ean's first time down at the lake. Ithiel was going to love it too, and probably want to be sanded. Some of the weyrlings would probably be delighted to help sand a full grown dragon. That would make it go quickly and then he and D'ean could relax some.

"Swim trunks?" Sam asked baffled and sent the question to D'ean's dragon.

{{Water clothes,}} Ithiel told him.

"Oh, okay, " Sam said. "But naked is just fine. Since we'll be sanding Ithiel, water clothes is probably a good idea, though. The sand can be a bit chafing." Sam was admittedly delighted by the idea of rolling around on the beach with D'ean but was surprised he would want to have sex in public. "But the grass is better for fecking I'm told. The sand gets everywhere." He hurried to catch up to D'ean, wrapping his arm around D'ean's neck. "So is that your plan? Fecking me senseless to keep my mind off other things? I like that plan."

"Word is 'fucking,'" he answered, looking back. "It's really sexier that way, try it. And yeah... maybe that's in the plans."

{{The weyrlings can take care of scrubbing most of me, but I want you to do work on my neck and face.}}

"What weyrlings..."

"The werylings that will be taking care of their own dragonets. Well, they're not far off from being fully grown dragons at this point," Sam explained. "Okay, so, " Sam let his voice drop low and husky, "I'm looking forward to you fucking me senseless. There's this spot that I hear is really good for that, oversees the lake, out of direct sight of anyone down there." Sam stopped D'ean and turned him to face him. "Last night was the best..." He wrapped his arms around D'ean and pulled him into a steamy kiss. Yes, kissing D'ean was most definitely cathartic and distracting. Sex, he was certain, would be even more so. And he didn't have to worry about S'rance interrupting. That thought made him kiss D'ean even harder, more possessively. He was free, he was finally free of that bastard.

"Mmmm, Sammy." Having Sam plastered against him, Dean went hard just like that. Mouths crushing, teeth clinking together, it was as if he couldn't get enough of his brother, and Sam felt the same. He pushed, and pulled, and forced Sam up against the wall as he kissed him again, before tugging him along. Vaguely, he was aware that his back hit someone, but he was so into the kiss, he could barely think or make himself care. By the time they made it into Sam's weyr, he had to break the kiss to take a much needed breath. "This rate... we're not making it to the lake," he said with a laugh, his hand moving over and cupping Sam's ass, pulling him close.

"Fuck the lake," Sam said breathlessly. He needed D'ean and needed him now. He could feel Dean's hardness pressing against him and his own cock mirrored his brother's. He rubbed against him, looking for much needed pressure on his cock as he guided D'ean back toward the bed. The lake would feel even better after some very hot sex. Not giving D'ean a chance to get the upper hand, he practically shoved D'ean back on to the bed and straddled him, running his hands underneath Dean's shirt, caressing the hard muscles underneath. He pulled Dean's shirt up and began sliding his mouth along the ridges in Dean's washboard abs.

Arching almost off the bed, Dean didn't argue. "Now I know you weren't kissing me like that a few days ago... oh God, good," he added, lifting up slightly up to pull his top off. As he lay back down, he reached out and slid his hands up and down Sam's sides, up to his shoulders, moaning as Sam sucked his skin into his mouth. Squirming, he ran one hand over Sam's hair, loving how soft and silky it was in comparison to his own spiky short hair. "You a fast learner... or you cheating on me, Sammy?" he teased.

"You wouldn't let me kiss you this way before," Sam teased back. "And why would I cheat on the most handsome rider in the weyr?" He kissed and sucked some more, loving how D'ean was reacting to his attentions. "I'm just a fast learner. But I'm beginning to think I'm not the first guy you've fecked--fucked."

With D'ean's shirt off, he had full access to D'ean's chest and slid his mouth up to Dean's nipple as he ground his hips against D'ean's and slid his hands up and down D'ean's sides.

Dean bit his lip when Sam said 'fucked.' "Have I mentioned dirty talk turns me on," he asked, gaze meeting Sam's when his brother looked up. He let him kiss and tease him, lifting his own hips to meet Sam's, a low groan working its way out of the back of his throat. "But most handsome?" he laughed, "Kansas Sam would never say that. I think I like you better."

"Then Kansas Sam is blind."

Dean held still for as long as he could, letting Sam learn his body, then he reached down and started to pull Sam's clothing off. As soon as he tossed Sam's buttery soft leather top off, he scooted closer. Sitting side by side, legs pointing in opposit directions, they fell into each others' arms again. Skin against skin, just like he'd been dying for. Dean kissed Sam slowly at first, then deepening it, kissing him until they ran out of breath. He moved his mouth to Sam's throat, biting his adam's apple lightly, feeling him swallow, then moving to the rest of his throat. He knew where Sam was sensitive, and didn't spare him. Feeling his lover shudder, Dean lifted his head. "Like that?"

"No, I hate it," Sam said, moaning in delight. "Can't you tell?"

Lowering his mouth, he smiled against Sam's chest and licked his nipple, playing with it and then sucking hard over it, one hand pressing flat into Sam's belly, ocasionally threatening to move lower, just because he loved how Sam's muscles tightened with anticipation.

"You are such a <i>fucking</i> tease." Sam tried to figure out what sort of dirty talk would turn D'ean on then remembered the verbal sex game. "I want your hand stroking my cock with your fingers up my ass, feeling inside me while you tongue fuck me. When you've got me hard as iron, then I want my cock buried in your mouth, you licking at me, sucking on me, bringing me off. After I've come so hard down your throat, I want your cock buried deep inside me, you thrusting and moaning and screaming my name until you come and I milk you dry."

With every suggestion, Sam inflamed Dean's desire to new heights. The hunter-bronzerider steadily grew rougher and more desperate, kissing harder, scraping his teeth along Sam's flesh, licking to soothe the pain, groping him. His hand shook slightly as he moved it between them and undid Sam's leather pants, and then his own, freeing his straining cock. "C'mere," he helped Sam up, pulled his pants off and had him sit on his lap, his long legs straddling Dean's waist as they faced each other. Pushing his own pants out of the way, Dean held both their cocks in one hand, stroking them as he looked in Sam's eyes, catching his every expression. "You give 'sinner and saint' new meaning," he said thickly, raising his knees to force Sam closer, and throwing his head back as they came together harder.

Ill prepared barely covered it as his words obviously were a 'turn on' to his brother. The need in his brother's eyes, on his face, in his every motion and touch... Sam liked that he could do this to D'ean. Liked it a lot. His grin disappeared into a groan when D'ean didn't just take his cock, but both their cocks in his hand. Sam felt himself hardening as his brother's touch was on him and as he felt his brother's dick pressed up against his own. He didn't know what a sinner or saint was, but took it as a compliment considering the way D'ean sounded when he said it.

Sam ran his fingers over D'ean's chest, playing with his nipples, twisting and pinching. As soon as D'ean's mouth came back within reach, he captured it, taking one hand away from a nipple to cup the back of his brother's head. He had barely opened his mouth and D'ean's tongue was inside, desperately tangling with his own. Oh, he would have to remember this trick. Most definitely he would remember that 'dirty' turned his brother into this type of lover.

His hand still stroking both their cocks, Dean leaned in and pushed his tongue past his brother's lips into it the warm silky depths of his mouth. Oh yeah, just what he wanted... needed. He swept his tongue along Sam's pallet, and explored every corner of his mouth as he rocked forward, one hand low on Sam's back. pulling him close. He'd never dreamed of this, of touching Sam like this, of owning him... but now, hell... he didn't know if he could ever go back to just being a brother. He had Sam's taste in his mouth, knew how he felt under him, knew how he sounded when he was pleading and when he was demanding... things he could never forget, wouldn't want to.

Sam could sense his brother's need and responded in kind giving everything over to him, ready to give him anything he wanted. He had never felt like this before and he clutched these precious feelings to him.

Dean's fingers slipped off their cocks as he dragged Sam impossibly closer, trapping their arousals between their pressing bellies. "Fuck against me harder," he demanded, mouth moving over Sam's shoulder, biting him lightly each time his body was wracked with intense sensations that came in waves. "So good... so good Sam..."

The bites sent small shudders through Sam and he hardly thought as he thrust his hips forward hard, rubbing their cocks together almost brutally. He thrust again and again, feeling the hot trails of cum his cock left in its wake on his brother's stomach, making it slicker and easier each time. He ran his fingers through D'ean's hair and tilted his head, giving the man access to his neck. His other hand went to D'ean's back and he ran his fingernails down his brother's back, feeling the scars under his hands. Kansas Sam would surely know where his brother had gained each of those scars. He didn't and he wondered. He wondered if he really wanted to know, if he really wanted to know where his own scars had actually come from. He couldn't imagine having another lover, not now, not ever. All he wanted was D'ean.

"Want you, love you," Sam said as he thrust again and again.

"You have me... right here," Dean smiled against Sam's skin, licking his throat, then slapping him lightly on the ass. "Get up on your knees." He didn't allow Sam to move back, but had him kneeling still straddling his own hips. Running his hands up and down Sam's powerul thighs, he leaned in and licked his cock, now angled up against his stomach, from base to tip. "You were saying something about fucking my mouth?"

Sam groaned and almost lost his balanced as D'ean's tongue caressed cock. "Yeah," Sam panted trying to keep from thrusting, his fingers tangling in Dean's hair and the other hand on his shoulder.

Grasping Sam's thick cock, he started to lick around it, in long strokes. When he reached its underside, he tongue fucked that spot between Sam's sack and the base of his cock, then gently sucked it. Feeling Sam tense, he lowered his head and took half of his sack in his mouth, sucking, teasing with his tongue, then giving the other half his attention.

Sam moaned obscenely with every touch of his brother's tongue, of the way D'ean sucked on his balls. His precum was beading, then trickling down the side of his cock. Hard as iron he had said. His brother was certainly getting him there and getting him there fast.

Sammy's reactions, his scent, his taste... they starting to drive Dean crazy with need. He knew it wouldn't be long before he was fucking him and wanted to give his brother as much as he could before then. He redoubled his efforts, giving Sam more pressure as he licked up his shaft, over and over.

"Want your mouth on me, let me fuck your mouth," Sam said. He really wanted to fuck D'ean's ass, to have his brother below him, to thrust into that velvet heat and feel himself come, but if D'ean couldn't, then this was the next best thing.

Sliding his mouth off Sam's cock, Dean leaning in kissed his favorite spot, moving his mouth over Sam's abs to his side and licking him before pulling back and looking up. His eyes locked with Sam's. "All yours," he said, opening his mouth for his brother.

Almost whimpering when Dean's mouth left his cock, he shuddered as D'ean's tongue moved higher, that hot mouth moving smoothly over his body. When D'ean pulled back and looked at him, opening that deep wet abyss of his mouth, Sam felt need set him on fire as he had never felt before. Gripping Dean's jaw, he pulled D'ean's mouth up to his own first, kissing him with all the fire in his soul. He pushed his brother back, his eyes burning with desire. He crawled off of Dean and approached him from the top of D'ean's head. He positioned himself over D'ean's mouth and slowly slid in, moaning. His own mouth down at Dean's hard cock, he licked at the precum, then down D'ean's shaft and to his balls. He began long slow thrusts then, feeling D'ean's lips around him as he began to fuck his brother's hot wet mouth, occasionally licking away the precum dripping from his brother's weeping cock.

At first, when Sam insistently pushed him to lay back, Dean thought it was so Sam would have more control as he fucked into his mouth. The first touch of his brothers own mouth, his wet warm tongue dragging over Dean's cock had Dean arching and groaning around Sam's cock surging in his mouth. Holy hell, he hadn't expected Sam to get so... so inventive, not that he was complaining.

Reaching up, he grabbed Sam's hips, pushing and pulling him as he sucked him off, having a measure of control in how far Sam penetrated his mouth. His fingers bit into Sam's soft skin, digging deeper each time white hot heat jolted his own body, with every motion of Sam's mouth at his cock. "Mmmm ... Mmmm," he hummed around Sam's dick, giving him vibration, loving how much harder and faster Sam was moving, knowing he was frustrating him slightly by controling his movements, but unable to stop when tremors of pleasure rippled through him each time Sam protested either vocally or in the way he jerked or bucked.

The humming around his cock drove wholly new sensations through Sam. His brother taking control of his hips would have annoyed him but he understood as he felt his tip brush deep back in D'ean's throat. He certainly didn't want to choke his brother, still he grunted when Dean pulled off of him before he was ready, when he wanted to drive deeper. His brother sucking him off had him snapping his hips. It felt so fucking good. He took D'ean's own cock in his mouth briefly, going down and pulling off, thrusting into D'ean's mouth a couple times, then doing it again. The way his brother tasted, the way his brother felt, it was unbelievable. He sucked on D'ean's cock one long last time before he felt his own need superseding all else. He began to thrust with abandon, grunting and groaning louder as he thrust faster and harder into that wet hot mouth. Stiffening suddenly, he felt his hard release, waves of pleasure shaking his body.

The way Sam was thrusting, Dean almost pushed him onto the bed, but he loved the idea of his brother out of control... loved the evidence of it too much to stop him. So he took it, each hard thrust that threatened to choke him, swallowing when Sam started to come deep inside his mouth, encouraging him, stroking his hips, swallowing again, until he felt Sam slow down and ease out of his mouth with a wet pop.

By the time Sam rolled over to lay next to him, his face close to Dean's still raging hard cock, Dean was breathing just as hard as his brother. He replaced Sam's mouth, with his own hand, stroking himself, his heated gaze traveling up and down the lines of Sam's body. "Some trick, Sam. You been watching porn?" he teased.

{{What is 'porn.'}}

When Dean explained, for once, his mouthy dragon was completely silent. Shocked was not too strong a word.

"I'm not even going to ask," Sam gasped out, sweat pouring from him. He turned his head, seeing Dean's cock stiff and erect and ready to fill him. He licked his lips. That had been sweet, getting his brother so hot while he was reaching his peak.

Letting his cock go, Dean climbed over Sam's body, his slick wet cock sliding over Sam's side as Dean reached for the sweet oil on the table next to the bed. When he returned, he pushed Sam over onto his stomach, and kissed his back. Feeling Sam's shiver, he smiled and moved lower, kissing and licking his way down Sam's ass crack. "Need you wet and ready for me," he said, penetrating Sam with his tongue, then pouring a little oil on his fingers. He kept speaking as he prepared Sam, loosened him up, closing his eyes slightly as he imagined being inside his brother's tight hole. "Remember what I told you, about adrenalin... about the best time to fuck... after a hunt or fight? I need you that bad now, that bad, Sammy."

Sam moaned, his cock too spent to be able to find its way hard again, but it still noticed and practically hurt because of it. He relaxed as much as he could, welcoming that tongue into his hole, welcoming the oiled fingers that stretched him open. He grinned at D'ean's words. He was the reason D'ean was so needy. Because he had talked dirty, fecked his mouth, sucked him hard. Because of him. And he decided he wasn't done, not quite yet. He wanted to know just how hot he could get his brother.

"Fuck me good, D'ean, fill me up so full, slide your cock in my sweet tight ass and fuck me good."

"Jesus, Sammy!" Impossibly harder at his brother's plea, Dean shifted and bucked against Sam's leg, trying to get a bit of relief for the terrible ache in his cock.

Sam grinned. "You said you like it when I talk dirty." He already had his brother so worked up he thought he better give D'ean a break or he might come before ever making it inside him.

Fighting his need to mount Sam there and then, Dean drew on every last bit of his control to make sure Sam was ready for him. "You're killin' me. Need to be inside you so fucking bad. Want you." Biting his lower lip, the pain helping him concentrate on what was important, Sam's safety, Dean finished lubing him up. Sam wiggled his ass around those fingers, enjoying the fact at least something of D'ean was already there.

Sliding one arm around Sam's waist, he crawled back and pulled Sam up on all fours. Dean leaned over him, fitting their bodies tightly together, seeking the heat of Sam's mouth as he strained to kiss him. Every part of their bodies touched, his chest to Sam's back, his hips pressing against Sam's ass, his cock sliding up and down between Sam's ass cheeks, tantalizing him, making him want to push right in, his thighs against the backs of Sam's legs. It was almost as if they were one. "Ready to take me, baby?"

Sliding his hand between them, Dean aligned himself. He was so hot, so fucking hard, he could barely wait to be inside Sam.

"I'm ready, Lover," Sam said, breathing out a slow deep breath. He knew even though D'ean had stretched and lubed him, there would still be a burn. He felt the nudge of D'ean's cock against his hole and moaned, resisting the urge to push back, to spear himself on that rock hard shaft. He winced a little as the head of D'ean's cock splayed him open, and finally pushed past that sphincter of muscle. That was the hardest part. He loved the sounds D'ean was making and could feel the tremble in his brother's muscles as D'ean forced himself to go slowly, letting Sam adjust to his fullness. Sam pushed back a little, loving the feel of his brother's cock stretching him and filling him. It burned so damned good.

"Good, D'ean, feels so good," Sam moaned. When he felt D'ean's ball press against him, when D'ean was all the way inside, he reached an arm back and twisted his head. "Kiss me, Lover, kiss me," he begged, pressing back as if trying to get D'ean buried even deep in him.

Tightening his arm around Sam's stomach, Dean leaned in, sinking inside Sam as far as he could go and taking Sam's mouth with his. His blood pounded at his temples, his heart banged against his chest as every cell in his body demanded he take Sam, make him his. He didn't fight it, not anymore. He started to move, thrusting slowly at first as he tongue fucked his brother to the same rhythym, sliding his wet mouth back and forth, his tongue in and out. When the strain of going slow was too much, he pulled out part way and thrust all the way inside again, angling his hips slightly. So tight, so damn tight, he moaned his pleasure into Sam's mouth, sucking his tongue into his own.

Sam answered every moan, responded to the way D'ean practically fucked his mouth. Shards was D'ean an amazing lover. When his brother finally began thrusting, Sam made new noises of pleasure. This was what he wanted, what he needed, just like the night before. The night before he was worried sick about D'ean. Today he was worried sick about Deanie. Next time they made love he really hoped he wouldn't be worried about anyone, that there would be nothing but he and D'ean.

Then they were moving as one, Dean thrusting, Sam pushing back. Like a well oiled machine, as if they'd practiced this all of their lives, the way they anticipated each others' fight moves and worked together. Sounds started welling up the back Dean's throat. He fucked harder, finding Sam's gland, aiming for it with every other stroke, and then keeping his brother guessing. So sweet, so fucking sweet, that's what Sammy was, his mouth, his taste, the way he whined in complaint... with need, the way he demanded more kisses.

As the pressure built low in his belly, Dean kissed Sam's throat and back, then pulled back, putting one hand on Sam's back and pushing him down toward the mattress, while using his other one around his waist to pull his ass up. "Oh yeah, hell yeah," he said thickly, white lights blinding him with every thrust of his cock. He was burning up, and he wanted to take his brother with him, just like that.

He might have just come down his brother's throat but his cock, with the constant pounding of that special spot deep inside, was filling back up. When D'ean pushed him down and pulled his ass up, that was it, his cock was standing at attention and ready. He took hold of D'ean's hand and brought it around to his cock. He didn't need his brother's hands steadying his hips, he was pushing back, and they worked each other as one. He did need his brother's hand on his cock though and he wanted D'ean to know just what he was doing to him.

Dean's eyes widened but when he pressed his mouth against Sam's back, he was smiling. Closing his eyes, he stroked Sam, moving to the rhythm of their thrusts, grinding into his brother, pumping his cock. The sounds Sam made, the way his cock responded, Dean could not have asked for more. As tension coiled within him, he started to fuck a little more desperately, a little wilder, riding Sam hard. His brother kept up, kept his balance despite the pounding he was receiving, moaned so fucking pretty. "Oh God... I ... Sammy!" It was the only warning Dean gave, riding forward, kissing Sam hard before stiffening, pulling Sam back, his cock still in his hand, both of them rocking on their heels now as he exploded deep inside his brother, shouting his name again.

The kiss, the tension, pulling him back, it all inflamed him, but when D'ean shouted his name, Sam's seed spilled from him. Sam rode D'ean throughout his orgasm, keeping his promise that he would milk his brother dry even as his own body shuddered in pleasure. They both panted, their skin slick with sweat. Sam finally pulled off D'ean and turned to face him. He ran his fingers through his own cum and licked his fingers clean then kissed D'ean, slowly pulling him down on top of him. He didn't care that his bed was wet with his own spilled seed, and though it ought to be rather...unpleasant, feeling D'ean's spunk dripping from his hole made him happy. It was his brother's seed, the man he loved, and he had given him such pleasure. How could he not be happy about it?

"You are a master at distraction," Sam said, though his mind still went to Deanie. Gratefully he could still feel Deanie strong in his mind.

{{He does well, all things considered. Rest with your love,}} Merith told him. He could tell she was taking another break from egg laying. {{Yes, you do make it hard to concentrate,}} she thought with amusement. {{I will have someone alert you if anything changes with Deanie. Rest.}}

Sam gave D'ean a brief and tired smile. "Merith says Deanie is still doing okay."

Sprawled on top of Sam, Dean was still fighting to get his breathing under control. "That's great... really great," he kissed Sam lightly and rolled off him, groaning slightly. "Dude... that was some work out." He dropped his hand on Sam's stomach, stroking him, "damn... not sure I want to go anywhere now. Maybe clean up and, I dunno... eat?" That was something he was always up for.

{{You always want to eat. Let's go to the lake, the weyrlings can scrub me and laugh as you fly Sam again.}}

Dean shook his head. "Ithiel is a perv, he thinks we should fuck again."

"What's a 'perv'?" Sam asked. "No, nevermind. I think we should clean up, strip the blankets," he wriggled his back a little, feeling the wet cum under him, "then sleep for a few hours." He had to admit, he was completely wrung out. Between last night, the stress of the fight, almost losing Deanie, and then having his brother feck his brains out, all in under a day, he was spent. He turned on his side and ran his fingers lightly over D'ean's chest. "I think I'm fucked out until tonight. When we wake up, we can eat, check on Deanie, and then take Ithiel down to the lake. It should be mid to late afternoon. The water will be perfect then."

"Alright. But we're gonna have to talk about your penchant for sucking bruises into my throat." Grinning, he sat up. "Thought I hadn't noticed, huh? C'mon, let's go." The flush coloring Sam's face rivaled the color of his bruise. Smiling smugly, Dean quickly stripped the bed, ordered a couple of sandwhiches and then followed Sam to the bathing pool. "Ready for that talk?"

If possible, his lover, his brother was blushing yet another shade.


* * *



[7 months later]


Dean had fallen into the regimented lifestyle of the dragonriders of Pern, learning how to fly on dragon back, fly between, how to burn thread out of the sky before it had the chance to fall to the earth and cause damage. He found that he enjoyed it more than he ever thought he would. For one thing, there was that sense of 'oneness' with his dragon, Ithiel. It was hard to believe he had ever been alone with his thoughts and emotions, with no one to fully share them with. It was also hard to believe that he actually... liked it, even when they sniped at each other. Anyone who had not impressed a dragon could not know the joys of finding what he could only liken to a soul mate, barring the romantic aspects. He also got the same sense of satisfaction out of killing thread that he did from his hunts - there was tangible evidence of saving people and their homes... their lives and families.


Of course there was Sam. Crazy and fucked up as it might be, he was in love with his brother in ways he'd never imagined. Yeah, they still fought, disagreed, but when night fell, they were in each others' arms and everything was right again. He'd gotten a lot less self conscious about public displays of affection, though he would probably never be as open about it as Sam.

There was also the hunting thing. They actively hunted the evil things that had been brought to Pern. With the dearth of hunters, and the Pernese people's lack of any information about demons and magic and the like, they were like sittiing ducks. He and his brother had made a name for themselves and were the 'go to' people to handle the unknown. They'd taken to training a couple people from some holds as well, because there wasn't enough of them to go around. The dragons' ability to go between and get them to distant lands helped a lot.

Dean actively investigated, questioned and tried to find who was responsible for the scrolls that brought people back from his world, but so far... still nothing. He'd taken to going back to the spot he'd arrived at, to see if Bobby had found a way to communicate, and that came up zip too.

He did miss his world in some ways. T.V., music, fast times, porn... yeah, there was a lot to miss. But what he had here was family. A real sense of it. They might travel a lot to kill things, but they came back to a <i>home</i>. They saw the same people, had friends, it was the perfect mix of a normal life and a hunter's life.

Merith's first clutch had brought a strong crop of dragonets. Within the next few months, she was expected to rise again. This time, Dean and Ithiel intended to win. S'rance was still at the weyr but only because three dragons had been injured during the next threadfall and Curanth was needed. S'rance was grounded with his shoulder injury and largely restricted to his weyr. K'tol had spoken at length with Sam. There was no doubt S'rance's cowardly attack merited banishment but when another threadfall came and a rider and dragon were lost to between K'tol asked both men to consider allowing S'rance to stay for the protection of Ista. K'tol promised he would transfer the bronzerider to another weyr as soon as Merith's clutch reached maturity and they had enough dragons aloft to protect the hold. It took some doing on Sam's part to convince Dean to accept K'tol's request but he finally did.

S'rance still watched Sam's every move, but he'd found that neither Sam nor Dean were afraid of him. A few more run ins that ended up in ways more humiliating to S'rance than the brothers put him in his place, and had him acting more carefully and less aggressively. Tanith had failed to rise and Leyla confirmed Tanith would not rise to mate again. The new 'weyrwoman' would be Sam and the new weyrleader would be whoever flew Merith and Sam. After this next flight, if Ithiel won Merith, then as the new Weyrleader, Dean's first order of business would be to see to the involuntary transfer of S'rance to any other weyr, even if it cost them every freaking queen egg Merith laid in exchange to get additional dragonriders. K'tol might not be willing to trade eggs to be rid of S'rance, but Dean sure as hell would. Getting rid of S'rance was a moment that Dean would relish.

As he thought about Merith being flown by Ithiel, a smile crossed his features recalling the first time that Ithiel had joined a chase to fly one of the randy green dragons in heat. It turned out the female green dragons liked sex... a lot. When Ithiel took after one of them, Dean had gotten his first taste of having no control over his own body, lust driving him nearly mad. When another dragon caught the green, Dean staggered out of that flight room so fucking needy, he had no idea what he was doing. A woman had pulled him into her arms, one of those 'flight moths' who offered themselves up as a consolation prize to riders whose dragons joined the chase but lost. One moment he'd been kissing and pawing her, the next Sam had torn the woman away and dragged him off to their weyr. The sex had been intense, and he didn't know how much more intense it could be when your dragon won the flight. Seeing as Ithiel liked to chase, it was a good thing that when the dragon in heat was not a gold, substitutes were allowed for the the winning rider, or Sam would have his head. He h