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    CassieQ
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Jabberwocky - 8. Love

VIII. Love

"We're going to move out in about a week," Jassa explained. She and Sumna were sitting in a twin set of chairs across from Jordan and Brandon who were seated on a tiny couch inside Sumna and Jassa's Odwayon home. Brandon and Jordan sat close together, their joined hands hidden in the folds of the cushions. Occasionally one of them would make a little gesture, a subtle squeeze or the comforting stroke of a thumb over knuckles. "That will give us enough time to gather all we need for a party of four. There will be a bit of travel, from Odwayon to Driamor. The first time we did this, it took-" Jassa paused and glanced at Sumna.

"Six days, maybe seven," Sumna said. "We could do it in five, possibly, if we pushed it."

"We'll stay at an Outpost if it is available, camp outdoors if there isn't one or if it doesn't feel safe. As we get closer and closer to Driamor, the more dangerous it'll be for us. We'll have to be careful, stay hidden."

Brandon nodded. "We can handle it." Although his voice was strong, calm and confident, the condensation on his palm and the nervous, twitching pulses of his fingers betrayed him.

Sumna studied them. "I hate to ask this, but we need to know---do either of you have any experience with weapons?"

"Weapons?" Jordan echoed.

"Can you fight?" Jassa clarified. "Swords, staffs, arrows, anything?"

Brandon shook his head. He had taken some karate when he was little, but had quit when he was ten and could hardly remember any of the moves.

"I used to take archery," Jordan offered. "But it's been years and I always shot at stationary targets, not moving ones."

Jassa looked thoughtful. "We might have to outfit you with something anyhow. We'll hold off for the time being. Regardless, even if you were able, it would be suicide to put the four of us up against trained palace guards. We'll have to sneak inside."

"How?" Brandon asked.

Jassa shifted uncomfortably. "Well, a lot depends on what we see when we get back there. We doubt much will have changed in the palace, so we have blueprints of the castle and some other inside contacts in the city. Most of our planning awaits us there."

"I see," Brandon said softly. "And once we get inside?"

"Kill Keith and his Enabler," Sumna said instantly.

"And then?"

Sumna gave him a long glance. "If there is anyone else in the palace that is sympathetic to Keith, they might get in the way and we would have to dispose of them as well. Including the child."

"I doubt a baby can be sympathetic to anyone," Brandon countered.

Sumna frowned, a line forming between her perfect brows. "If it is a baby, it will be left alone. But I doubt that. We will not condone a dangerous hybrid running amok in Charion."

"How would it be dangerous?" Brandon asked.

"It doesn't belong here."

"Neither do we."

"We were invited, Brandon," Jassa interrupted when Sumna started to look irritated. "Creators and Enablers belong here; we have an open invitation to Nexus worlds."

"You don't know that, just because-"

"Brandon," Jassa interrupted him, "I want to ask you something. Have you had any trouble, even a little bit, understanding what people here are telling you?"

"No."

"Does that strike you at all odd?"

Brandon opened his mouth to answer, then paused. "Maybe, a little," he admitted. He thought that it was because it was Keith's world, his Creation.

"How many languages exist on your original planet?" Jassa continued.

"Hundreds. Maybe thousands," Brandon said. Another slow, easy squeeze of his palm from Jordan.

"And you don't find it odd that everyone here can not only speak in the language from your planet, but the one that you specifically use?"

"English," Jordan clarified.

Sumna pressed a hand to her chest. "I don't speak English. Neither does Jassa. We don't even know what that is, it doesn't exist where we come from. We speak our own native language, you speak yours. Yet we understand each other. How do you think that is possible?"

"How the hell should I know?" Brandon said irritably.

"It is because we are Enablers and Creators," Jassa said. "Nexus worlds work as automatic translators, but only for Creators and Enablers. The villagers from Odwayon, for example, wouldn't understand the language of the people from Torran. Each region has its own language, dialect, etc. It is designed to make it easier for us to navigate through it, to understand the people who live here. Regular visitors from our world or your world won't have these abilities. But we do. Think about that for a minute."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Brandon asked.

"We have resources at our disposal that you obviously don't," Sumna said, her eyes traveling from Brandon to Jordan and back. "Trust me on this one. Enablers and Creators belong in Nexus worlds; we are the ones who create them. Strangers from other planets don't."

"Let's get back to the plan for once we leave Odwayon," Jordan said, changing the subject.

"We've probably covered all we need to for right now," Jassa said. "What we need you to do is educate yourselves, about Charion, about your role in Nexus worlds, so you understand what you need to be doing here. I'll contact you with details as they become available."

Brandon and Jordan bid them both goodnight and walked back to their pod in the deepening twilight, holding hands and saying little. As they grew closer to their pod, Brandon brought up the conversation they had with Sumna and Jassa.

"Did you know that thing about the language?" he asked.

Jordan glanced at him. "That Creators and Enablers could communicate but no one else? Yeah."

"How did you know?"

"Read about it, in one of the books they gave us."

"Is that what they meant, by educating ourselves?"

"I guess."

"I wish I'd known about that language thing before going in there," Brandon said. "Then I wouldn't have felt so dumb when they were telling me all that stuff."

"I'm sorry, baby," Jordan said. "I kept meaning to talk to you about what I learned, but I got sidetracked with all the other stuff going on."

They were at the pod and Jordan released Brandon's hand to let him climb up the short distance to the pod, following behind. Brandon sat down near his cot, not on top of it. Jordan sat down next to him.

"Do you want me to go over some stuff right now?" Jordan asked.

Brandon shook his head. "No," he said, looking down at the floor. "You know what I really liked?"

"What?" Jordan asked.

"Holding your hand," Brandon said, blushing a little bit. "It was nice."

Jordan wordlessly offered his hand again and Brandon took it. Jordan let his fingers lace with Brandon's. "Like this?"

Brandon nodded. "I miss...being with you. Touching you." He felt his face heat up a little bit. He wanted to talk to Jordan, to tell him how much he missed him, being with him, the physical, sexual side of their relationship. It had been weeks since they had been intimate and after the intense bond strain, he had been feeling the aching, yearning intensely. But he was still unsure of what to do. Sometimes, if Jordan touched him, like the handholding that evening, it was fine. Other times it invited hot panic in, reminded him of the caresses of Rajar's hands, a precursor to the unwelcome invasion of his body.

"Hey," Jordan broke him from his thoughts by giving his hands a light tug. Brandon glanced over and blinked a few times to rid burning green eyes from his mind to focus on Jordan's beautiful blue. Jordan's eyes searched his briefly, then he was leaning forward and warm lips covered his. Brandon's hesitation was only momentary before he relaxed into the kiss, lips softening and yielding under Jordan’s. And when Jordan's lips made a careful, gentle inquiry against his, he allowed the kiss to deepen, for Jordan's tongue to slide slick and wet against his.

It was sweet and hot and Jordan raised his other hand, touching Brandon, his face and hair, thumbs brushing the edges of cheeks and temple, palm cupping the delicate curve of his neck. Brandon made a small, pleased noise in his throat, moving closer, gripping Jordan's shoulders. A small burn was starting in him, a burn he recognized. It always started like that, a small burn that would grow hotter and hotter until flames swept through his entire body, a burning ball in his chest until everything exploded in a supernova orgasm. Did he want that?

Brandon tried to focus on Jordan again, completely on Jordan and how good he felt, the gentle touches and the warm taste of his mouth, but it was too late. Brandon pulled away, gasping, resting his forehead against Jordan’s. The sharp, quick breaths danced across Jordan's lips and chin. Jordan shifted, lips pressing against Brandon's suddenly sweaty forehead. Brandon brought his face down, pressing it into Jordan's shoulder and neck. He was shaking and his breath seemed to come too fast, whistling in and out through his throat. Jordan's hand swept through his hair, down his back, soothing.

"I'm here, baby," Jordan reassured him. "I'm right here."

"Sorry," Brandon murmured, feeling embarrassed. "Sometimes I just get-"

"It's okay," Jordan said. Brandon felt like he should protest, but something about the way Jordan held him, the gentle way he was rocking them back and forth, made the notion dissolve before it could form into words. “You’re amazing.”

Brandon smiled. “Just from a kiss? You’re easy, baby.”

Jordan chuckled against him and they sat there for a long time before going to bed.

* * *

Brandon blinked in the sunlight as it streamed into the pod, stretching out a little bit so his body bumped against Jordan’s warm skin. He never thought he would get into this habit, sleeping as soon as night fell and getting up early in the morning, but the truth of the matter was: he had no choice. When it got dark, it was full on dark, and the scant light provided by the lamps and carefully monitored ground torches didn’t do much to encourage after hour activities. When it was dark, there was essentially nothing to do but sleep. Jassa had told him that there were occasional ceremonies and festivals held at night, where everyone celebrated around bonfires on the ground, but that was it. No computers for late night IMs, no televisions for the late show, no radios to listen to coast to coast AM. Brandon could have used the distractions.

Still a little drowsy, he snuggled in close to Jordan, kissing his warm shoulder. Jordan mumbled something delightfully incoherent, then turned onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow to shield his eyes from the rays of sun. Brandon smiled and got to his feet, pulled on his clothes and left the pod. He stopped by a fruit stand for breakfast where an Odwayon girl gave him a packet of fruit with a blush coloring her cheeks and a shy smile. Brandon flashed a smile back at her, delighted in the way the blush deepened. She reminded him a little bit of Kelly and the homesickness swelled inside him achingly. He left hurriedly, eating as he traveled along the maze of ladders and stairs. He sat down on the walkway near the edge, letting his feet dangle off while he thought. He thought of the night before, the kisses they had shared and the cold panic that had quickly followed. He missed his lover, the warm intimacy that had bound them together before all of this had happened. He wanted that back.

And even more than that, he wanted that worried, haunted look in Jordan’s eyes to disappear. He wanted Jordan to look at him the way he used to. He wanted Jordan to look at him and see something other than a rape victim.

Brandon shivered. It was the first time he had applied that term to himself since the entire incident.

He had told Jordan that he wanted to leave all of that behind him and just move forward. He just had to figure out a way to do that. Time to take the first step.

 

Jordan sighed, torn between frustration and worry. He had woken up that morning to find that his lover had performed another one of his disappearing acts. At least this time, there was no broken glass littering the floor, but it had been a slim comfort amid the morning quiet and cool sheets.

He began to check all the places he had gone yesterday in his search for Brandon, but he only got as far as Sumna and Jassa’s dwelling. Jassa had opened the door to him as he approached like she had been expecting him. She informed him that Sumna, accompanied by Brandon, had left from there some hours before. She had been maddeningly silent about where they had gone, only inviting him in to wait. At a loss of what else to do, he did.

He hadn’t been waiting long when they returned, Sumna looking drawn and exhausted and Brandon looking almost normal. Brandon raised his eyes up, offered a shy, halfway guilty grin, then crossed the room to where Jordan stood, pressing himself against Jordan’s body, face against his neck and sliding a hand around his waist.

“Okay?” Jordan murmured, hugging Brandon back. Over his shoulder, he saw Sumna doing the same thing, the taller woman folding herself around her shorter counterpart. Brandon nodded against him, his body warm, heavy and soft, free of the tension that Brandon so often carried. Jordan stroked a hand up Brandon’s back and Brandon pulled away slightly.

“Where were you?” Jordan asked.

“I'll tell you,” Brandon said. “Can we walk?”

“Yeah,” Jordan glanced over. “Are you two okay?”

Sumna didn’t look up. Jassa nodded at them.

Jordan followed Brandon outside the pod. “Have you eaten today?”

Brandon nodded. “Have you?”

Jordan shook his head, some of the angry resentment creeping back. “No, I was too busy looking for you.”

“Don’t be angry,” Brandon said, taking Jordan's hands. “Let’s get some food.”

Jordan allowed himself to be lead to one the treetop restaurants and sat outside on the balcony, eating bread, jam and cheese while Brandon watched.

“Stop staring at me while I eat,” Jordan mumbled, scowling.

“Are you still mad?” Brandon asked.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Jordan asked. “Christ, Brandon, do you know what it does to me when I wake up and have no idea where you are? It’s dangerous.”

“I went to Sumna and Jassa’s first thing, since that is where I thought you would look,” Brandon said.

“Where did Sumna take you?” Jordan asked.

“I asked her to take me to a healer,” Brandon said quietly. “To get myself checked over like you said I should.”

Jordan stopped in the act of spreading jam on a piece of bread. “You did that this morning?”

Brandon nodded.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Or woke me up or something? I would have gone with you.”

“I didn’t want you to,” Brandon said.

Jordan dropped his eyes, trying to ignore the little stab of pain those words caused. “I see.”

Brandon reached over the table and took his hand. Jordan stiffened and tried to pull away, but Brandon’s grip was firm.

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Brandon said. “It wouldn’t have bothered me to have you there. But--I was thinking a lot about things this morning and I want to make sure I don’t become dependent on you. I love you and I am so glad you are here for me. It means the world to me, and I don’t think I could handle what happened to me without you. But there are some steps that I just think I should take alone.”

“You could have just told me that,” Jordan said. His throat felt thick, but he no longer tried to pull his hand away from Brandon’s.

“I know. I think I was a little afraid that you might try to talk me out of going by myself, and that I would let you. It was hard going there. Scary. But I knew I needed to do it. Sumna knew where to go and she waited for me outside. In case, you know, I needed to talk to someone.”

“You can talk to me,” Jordan said.

Brandon nodded. “I know. But Sumna...” He hesitated, for a moment, even though Sumna had told him he could share this if he wanted. “She’s been through the same thing I have.”

Jordan’s eyes widened slightly. “She has?”

Brandon nodded again. “Yeah. She told me. She was engaged and her fiancé…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t talk about this.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to,” Jordan said. He noticed he was gripping Brandon’s hand and brought it up to his lips, brushing them gently over the ridge of Brandon’s knuckles. Brandon didn’t react, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“So, is everything okay?” Jordan asked.

Brandon nodded. “We think so. The healer didn’t recognize the specific type of poison Keith gave me, but she told me that the effects of Reeska venom are short lasting and usually don’t cause long term damage. Mixed with something else, however, she wasn’t sure. She ran a bunch of tests and everything came out… normal. No disease, no physical damage, and as far as we can tell, no long lasting effects from the poison.” Brandon gave him a wan smile. “Physically speaking, I’m in perfect health.”

“And the rest of you?” Jordan asked.

Brandon shrugged. “Only time will tell. Right now, I’m just relieved.” He pulled his hand free and propped his chin upon it. “The villagers are having some kind of festival tonight. Sumna told me about it. Do you want to check it out?”

“Do you want to?” Jordan asked.

“I’m asking you what you want to do,” Brandon said. “It’s okay for you to have an opinion on stuff.”

Jordan blushed slightly. “I guess I wouldn’t mind checking it out.”

“Good,” Brandon said. “Don’t treat me differently, Jordan. Don’t act like I’m made of glass. It’s hard, but I want to try to live like I did before. I want to try to find even a little bit of that person I was before Rajar. I can’t do that if you treat me like I’m broken.”

Jordan gave him an intense, searching stare. “Alright then.”

* * *

Jordan sat on the floor of the Odwayon forest later that morning, Brandon’s head in his lap, stroking his hair. Jordan was using the opportunity to give Brandon some more information on Creating and Enabling that he had read about.

“So there are actually more layers of bonding than I originally thought,” Jordan said. “I initially thought that there were only two. There is the primary bond, which all teams automatically have when they first make contact. The first time I ever touched you, do you remember?”

Brandon could. It was after Jordan had driven him to school, when Jordan was telling him things that Brandon was sure had to be impossible. And Jordan had reached over the hood of the car and put his hand over Brandon’s. And Brandon had felt something… a chill, a tingle, something that his body had recognized even as his mind had blocked it out.

“I do,” Brandon said.

“Then there is the secondary bond, the one that Dalaja walked us through. That one has to be a conscious decision, one that both members actively participate in.”

“Yeah,” Brandon said. “I thought that was as far as it went.”

“Well, actually there are two more levels past that,” Jordan said. “There is a tertiary bond. I think that is what Sumna and Jassa have.”

“And the one past that?” Brandon asked.

“It’s called splicing,” Jordan said. “Not widely practiced and is actually forbidden in some places.”

“Why?” Brandon asked.

“Well, first of all, a tertiary bond is pretty invasive. Once someone engages in a tertiary bond, the bond is more intense and there is a noticeable lack in privacy. This is the type of bond in which mind-to-mind communication is possible, but it also means that a person would have to actively guard any thoughts or feelings that they want to keep private, and in some cases, they might seep over into the other person’s consciousness anyway. In short, there is a lack of control. If we had a tertiary bond, I could see your thoughts and you could see mine. We would share dreams.”

Brandon frowned. “That sounds pretty freaky.”

Jordan nodded. “It’s not for everybody. However, it does help Creating and Enabling. When Sumna draws something, she doesn’t have to put in dimensions like I taught you. She has the image she drew fixed in her mind, and Jassa uses the link to share the image when she Enables it over. That is how they were able to Enable things over so quickly and easily.”

“Hmm.” Brandon mulled that over. “I guess it depends on whether or not you’re willing to make the trade off.”

“Yeah. But splicing is even a step beyond that. It removes all mental barriers between two individuals. The two separate minds cease to exist and just kind of meld together into one consciousness. The team sacrifices any kind of individuality whatsoever.”

Brandon shivered. “That’s insane.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jordan said. “It’s one thing to have a bond with your partner. But it’s a whole different story to sacrifice yourself, your entire personality to them.”

“It’s kinda like the opposite of Siamese twins,” Brandon said.

“Hmm?” Jordan glanced down at him, looking puzzled.

“Like Siamese twins are two separate people that share a body. This is like the opposite. Two people with different bodies that share the same mind, the same soul.”

“Like I said, in some cultures it is taboo or illegal," Jordan continued. "But tertiary bonds are pretty much accepted everywhere, as well as secondary bonds.”

Brandon didn’t respond and Jordan let the silence spread out. He understood why Brandon preferred this spot. It was peaceful and quiet, with the gentle rustle of leaves and the green filtered light from Charion’s sun. He glanced down at Brandon’s face, relaxed and free from the stress and anxiety that had often stamped itself across his features lately. “Hey, what is this?”

Brandon opened his eyes and saw Jordan running a finger over the slender leather cord around his neck.

“The healer gave it to me,” Brandon said. He pulled the cord free from his shirt and Jordan saw an odd swirled symbol hanging at the end. He didn’t recognize it as any symbol he knew from Earth.

“What does it mean?”

“Well, I was in the healer’s building and I saw a painting on the wall in there. And it looked a lot like the boy I keep seeing in the woods.”

“A boy?”

“I told you about him the first time I brought you out here, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, he's always out here when I come out on my own. But he never appears when anyone else is around. He frightened me a little, because he knew things about me, things I was thinking, things I was feeling, without me saying anything. And he would always disappear when you came looking for me. Well, it turns out he is the patron deity of the healers in Odwayon. His name is Maikeeli. He is rumored to wander the forest around this village, helping those who need healing, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, whatever.”

“I see,” Jordan said.

“I told them that I had seen him in the woods, that he had talked to me. And the healer gave me this and said that I should wear it. Apparently it is given to people who have been contacted by Maikeeli.”

“Is it supposed to do anything specific?” Jordan asked.

Brandon shrugged. “Not as far as I know. They just said that if Maikeeli had appeared to me, then I should wear his symbol. It’s like an honor thing. I didn’t want to refuse it.” Brandon ran a thumb over one of the looping swirls. “Besides, I kind of like it.”

“As long as it’s not dangerous or anything,” Jordan said.

“No, they said it would protect me,” Brandon said. “There is almost no malice in the people here. I like them.”

“Me too,” Jordan said.

Brandon closed his eyes and turned himself into Jordan’s body, pressing his face into his stomach. Eventually his breathing slowed and evened out. Jordan continued to stroke his hair, bending down to kiss his temple.

“Love you.”

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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