Jabberwocky - 6. Rajar

VI. Rajar

Jordan woke Brandon up early the next morning, before it was fully light out, to travel to the main village for breakfast. When Brandon sleepily protested, Jordan reminded him that he hadn’t shown up for dinner the previous night and needed food. Brandon only offered a little resistance. All other things aside, the people in Odwayon knew how to cook.

Afterwards, Brandon didn’t want to go back to their sleepy pod, so they sat one on of the less busy walkways and watched the sun creep up from behind the trees. Jordan was startled when Brandon abruptly got to his feet and scrambled to do the same.

“C’mon,” Brandon said, starting down one of the walkways. “I want to show you something.”

Jordan followed Brandon as he left the walkways and descended a tree. Brandon walked quickly through the forest floor, almost running, and Jordan pressed himself to keep up. It felt like longer than it did the previous day to reach the spot by the river, but they finally arrived. Brandon’s steps slowed as he surveyed the place, which seemed no less enchanting in early morning sun than it did in the soft afternoon glow or the evening twilight.

“This is where I was yesterday evening,” Brandon said. He rested a hand against a tree trunk, feeling rough texture underneath his hand. He liked it. Another distraction. “I was wanting to be alone, but there was someone out here already, fishing in the river. A boy, I think.”

“A boy?” Jordan asked and Brandon heard the tight anxiety in his voice. He had to smile a little.

“A young boy,” Brandon clarified. “I never got his name. We--well, he talked to me. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I seem to have some problems.” He risked a quick glance at Jordan, saw him nod. “And this boy, he could see it inside me. He told me that I should release it, purge it, so that I can heal. And I want to tell you, because I think you should know.” Brandon turned and gripped the bark of the tree, resting his forehead on the trunk as if he were praying for it’s strength. “I’m scared, but I need to tell you some things.” He closed his eyes, swallowing the bile residing in his throat. “First of all, at the palace, when you were asleep, right before I talked to Ralph, I ran into Rajar. He…made me an offer, changing into different people--male and female-- in an attempt to seduce me. He failed, of course, but he can take the form of anyone he likes--including you or me or Jassa or Sumna, for example.”

“That’s something we’ll need to be aware of then,” Jordan said with a nod.

“There’s more,” Brandon said. “Much more. And I’m going to tell you, but you’ll need to let me talk.”

Jordan nodded.

“Sit down,” Brandon said. Jordan sat down exactly where he had been standing, without question. Brandon slid down his tree, almost afraid to give up the contact, then drew his knees to his chest. He turned his head, stared at the water, the river rushing by, wished wishing it could take away all his problems.

Jordan was silent.

Brandon started talking.

* * *

He had lied to Sumna about Leia’s infant. Brandon had been able to see it after birth, clearly.

Keith had held it up above his head, screaming triumphantly as if it were his own son. It was a mess of long, skinny arms and legs, a too large trunk and head. It was entirely too big for Leia to have been carrying and entirely too big for a vaginal delivery, and his heart broke at that moment, because he knew that Leia had died, because there was no way she could have survived that; it would have torn her apart in the birthing process. He was grateful for the chaos, all the people blocking his view so he couldn’t see Leia unless he made an effort. And right then he definitely didn’t want to make an effort.

Someone picked him up, jostled him in careless arms. Then he was moving, being carried out of the temple, across the palace grounds, inside an unfamiliar hallway. He moved weakly, too drugged and disoriented, hurting too much to really struggle, before being deposited in an unfamiliar room. Rough hands pulled his arms behind his back, something strong and coarse was wrapped around his wrists and elbows. Then he was left there, to suffer alone.

Brandon settled for staring at the floor, trying to find patterns in the cracks. It was best to have a focal point and that was his. The spider webby-like cracks in the stones formed something different each time he looked. Wizards. Snakes. Lightning. Her beautiful, traitorous face.

Sometimes, the pain would overwhelm him and he would double over, face against his thighs, his arms and shoulders screaming at their restriction behind him. And he waited.

He was curled up on the floor when someone came. A door opened and shut, footsteps followed by the slithering sound of a tail across stone.

Rajar knelt down next to him and tilted his face up. Brandon glared at him, but lacked the energy to attempt speech. He thought vaguely about trying to do something, like stand, but his legs had fallen asleep from crouching here, in that room. He saw Rajar move behind him and a few moments later, his arms were freed. They automatically dropped down when released, and Brandon bit back the scream that wanted to come as blood poured back into his arms, wrists, fingers. Brandon leaned forward and let his arms hang as the pins and needles came.

"Can you walk?" Rajar finally asked. His voice was completely unaffected, sounding almost bored, and Brandon felt his anger grow, tinged with an uncomfortable amount of hate. He shook his head. While some of the immobility of the drug had worn off, he was still weak and he doubted his legs could lever himself up.

"Pity," Rajar said. "I guess Keith gave you a pretty hefty dose of his special poison, hmm?"

"I'm going to kill you," Brandon gritted out through his teeth.

"I'm sure you certainly want to," Rajar said, adding to Brandon's humiliation by unceremoniously hauling Brandon to his feet. He guided him over to the bed and pushed him down against the mattress. "Now that you know who I am and what I've done. But I have things to deal with right now. Like what to do with this tasty little morsel in my bedroom." He reached out and stroked Brandon's face briefly, grinning when Brandon jerked his head away. Rajar gripped his hair, forcing his head back. Cold green eyes met angry brown.

“I know you are probably not happy with me, and considering the circumstances, I don’t blame you. But you best get used to my touch, because you’re going to be feeling it a lot before this night is over and my patience is not at it's best. I expect to make a delightful snack out of you.”

"You're going to eat me?" Brandon asked dumbly. His mind, stretched to the breaking point of exhaustion, had trouble grasping the events unfolding.

Rajar flashed him a grin that was pure evil and a look that was smoldering seduction. "In a manner of speaking. I certainly plan on consuming you."

Brandon's eyes grew wide as he decoded the interpretation. "Like hell you will!" he shouted, getting to his feet sluggishly.

Rajar backhanded him hard enough to send him tumbling back onto the bed. His face exploded in a red fury of pain and Brandon brought a hand up in anticipation of another blow, but Rajar didn't try to hit him again, just straddled Brandon's hips to avoid future escape attempts.

"I apologize for my rough handling of you, but you need to understand the situation," Rajar said, his voice a low, dangerous husk. "I am built a certain way. Sex is my sustenance. It's my food, my water, my air. I die if I don't have it, and the true master of the castle has me very restricted. I was only given a broken, pregnant Queen to sate my appetite and as I'm sure you can guess, her condition has kept me waiting for quite some time. And now...well, I'm not a necrophiliac."

Cold nausea rocked Brandon's body in a long painful shudder. "Please. Don't."

"I can't wait. And I won't waste this opportunity I had the good fortune to snatch up. I'll at least make it feel good, if you let me."

"No."

"Fine then. I'll make it not feel good. But I will be taking you, either way."

Brandon opened his eyes. Rajar was looming over him, fire in his deep green eyes. Brandon struggled briefly, weakly, but Rajar easily caught both his hands again and pinned them down on the bed above his head. With his other hand, he squeezed Brandon's face with strong fingers, forcing his jaw open.

"I am aware you experienced what my venom can do to you. That little concoction that Keith gave you earlier was laced with Serahket poison, which caused the pain. My venom alone just immobilizes you. But I don't want you to worry. I will not have you helpless and comatose, but I don't want you fighting like a wildcat the entire time either...I would end up hurting you." The end of Rajar's reptilian tail hovered over Brandon's open mouth and Brandon watched in horrified fascination as a drop of clear fluid formed at the tip and fell into his open mouth.

Rajar watched carefully as several drops fell in Brandon's mouth and trickled down his throat. "Good boy," Rajar said softly, giving him a sharp sexy smile. He released Brandon's face, ran a gentle hand down his neck and chest. "It's nothing personal. I don't want to hurt you. But I was made with needs I have to fulfill."

"Don't-" Brandon started but was silenced by the smooth lines of Rajar's mouth on his own, his tongue slipping forward, pressing the advantage Brandon had given. Brandon tried to push Rajar away, but the venom from Rajar had done its work. It didn't leave Brandon helpless and unable to move as he had been with Keith, but he knew as the heels of his hands slid uselessly against Rajar's shoulder that he was still not strong enough to withhold the assault. Being able to fight off Rajar at full strength would be difficult enough, never mind when he was weakened and drugged.

"No," he said when Rajar released his mouth. He turned his head away but only succeeded in providing his throat as Rajar's next target. He gasped as Rajar's hot mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of his neck. "Don't." He squirmed, trying to escape, but only found himself pinned more securely under Rajar's body. Rajar chuckled and licked a languid swipe up Brandon’s face. “You sound like she did, the first time I took her. Similar circumstances, even. I was half crazed with hunger when I took her as well.”

“Stop,” Brandon pleaded.

“Make me stop,” Rajar challenged.

“Please,” Brandon said again. He was begging, and he hated that.

Rajar regarded him with glittering eyes, then smoothed a hand down his face and neck.

"I apologize," he said, his voice soft and almost gentle. "I was hoping to have enough time to do this slowly, to properly seduce you and have you willing underneath me. But I am too far gone. And the longer I have to wait to have you, the worse it's going to be on yourself. So I implore you, for both our sakes, to stop resisting. I will try not to hurt you. But each second that passes by, the more my control slips. Stop fighting."

Brandon barely heard his words and wouldn’t stop struggling until his muscles gave up, his body succumbing under the onslaught of exhaustion and drugs. And he lay there, sobbing and horrified as Rajar took what he wanted.

Brandon stopped talking, drew drawing in a hard, ragged breath. The back of his throat felt sore, raw with an acidic aftertaste, almost like he had been crying, but when he touched his face, there were no tears. “I’ll spare you the details,” Brandon said, although he couldn’t keep his mind from recalling them now that he was relaying the experience to Jordan.

Brandon cleared his throat and glanced over at Jordan briefly. Jordan was sitting with his hands clenched into fists, looking lost. Pain shone from his eyes…pain and anger and shock, Brandon saw, and nothing else. “There’s more that you need to know,” Brandon said and continued.

It hadn’t been over long. Brandon was lying on the sheets, his chest and stomach in an uncomfortably tight grip, not willing to move, barely able to breathe. He closed his eyes and wished to disappear. He could feel Rajar next to him, shifting weight on the bed, then a chaste kiss was pressed against the back of his neck.

“You were good,” Rajar whispered against his skin. “I hate what I had to do and I’m so sorry, but you were good. Felt good.”

Brandon felt his stomach hitch, like he was about to vomit.

Rajar stood and stretched. Brandon could hear the bones and joints in his body cracking and shuddered as another wave of thick nausea rolled through him. He could hear a knock on the door, footsteps padding out of the room. A murmur of voices and a door clicking shut again.

Brandon opened his eyes again in time to see Rajar approach, frown at him. “Apparently, his Majesty wants you in his greedy little hands. He‘s furious that he can't find you,” Rajar said and tilted his head, green eyes studying his. “Strangely enough, I’m not feeling all that inclined to hand you over.” Rajar handed Brandon his clothes. “Can you dress yourself?”

Brandon nodded mechanically.

“Hurry,” Rajar said. Brandon waited until Rajar had stepped into another room and pulled on his underwear, pants and shirt. He pulled on his boots and tried to get his thoughts into some kind of rational order. He wouldn’t think about what had just happened. He would not.

Rajar returned to the room with one of the palace guards who was holding a sheet in their arms. Rajar took the sheet and shook it out, stepped forward. Brandon made a sound, similar to something a frightened or injured animal might make and backed away. Rajar sighed and rolled his eyes, then held the sheet out to the guard. The guard took it and approached Brandon, who backed up a little more.

“Don’t make me knock you out,” Rajar warned. “I’m trying to help you out here. Unless you want me to turn you over to Keith?”

Brandon looked at the guard warily. The guard held out the sheet. “Wrap yourself up,” the guard said. Hearing the feminine voice coming out of the helmet along with the veiled threat from Rajar calmed Brandon enough to take the sheet with trembling fingers and wrap it around himself, making sure to cover his head and hands, the way he would wrap himself in his beach towel when he was little, coming out of the too cold water of the swimming pool and feeling too impatient to wait for the sun to warm and dry him.

The guard led him through several short hallways that were unfamiliar to him, out through a side entrance where a wagon, loaded up with other boxes and sacks was waiting. The only struggle Brandon made was when the guard tried to give him the contents of a small vial. It took several more guards to hold him down, steady his head and cover his nose until his mouth dropped open long enough for the vial to be emptied into it. The extra venom did its job, and left Brandon limp and weak as he was loaded onto the wagon, packed in amongst other items, hidden from stray eyes as other items were carefully stacked on top of and around him. He lost consciousness shortly after the wagon started moving.

Brandon sighed and ran a hand over his eyes, which were still dry, but tired and aching. “I don’t know if he was working under Keith’s orders to kill me by bond separation and just lied to me to make me more cooperative or what. But he was the one who sent me away to Silver Falls. After that, I really did have trouble remembering things, just that I was in pain from the bond strain and being fed painkillers and hallucinogens on a steady basis until Sumna and Jassa arrived with you. I just--regardless of whether we go with them, Sumna and Jassa are going to end up encountering either Keith or Rajar and they need to know what’s going on. That Rajar can change sex, appear as whatever he wants. That Keith favors poisons that can immobilize and induce pain in its victims. All that stuff.”

Brandon looked down, tucked his knees up underneath his chin and wrapped his arms around them. “And I’ll understand if you don’t want to…be with me anymore. I know we have to stick together to get back home, but…afterwards, if you don’t want to…I’ll understand."

Jordan had been silent, as requested, but when he spoke, his voice was hoarse and strained. “Bran…of course I still want to be with you. God, baby, don’t even think otherwise.”

“Well, after what happened-”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears dripped from Brandon’s eyes, finally. They weren’t the same intense, somehow cleansing tears from yesterday, but small, stinging ones that reminded him that he was still miles from okay. “I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should have fought harder.”

“You were drugged, baby,” Jordan said. “This was not your fault. Blame Keith. Blame Rajar.”

“He wasn’t at fault, he needed sex-”

“No, Brandon, stop. This is Keith’s fault, for putting you in that situation, and Rajar’s fault as well. The Eastern Palace has an entire wing devoted to the palace harem; he could have gotten one of them.”

Brandon shook his head. “He wasn’t allowed-”

“Fuck that! He wasn’t allowed to touch you either, if you said no. Jesus.” Jordan pressed his hands against his forehead. How long had Brandon been thinking this way? “Just because a man is starving, doesn’t make it right for him to steal a loaf of bread. He could have taken someone else. He just wanted you.”

“You don’t understand,” Brandon said. “I should have fought harder. Not just against him. Against everyone. I should have fought harder for her.” He pressed the heel of his hand against burning eyes. “I should have done more for her. I should have done more, sooner.” He dropped his head as the sobs came again, taking over his body. “But I didn’t, and Leia is dead. She’s dead even though I keep telling myself that she’s not, she’s dead and I--” A fresh torrents of sobs ripped through him before he could speak again. “And she’s dead and I didn’t save her the way I said I would. I promised to save her, I promised to help her and all I did was lay there and do nothing while she died.” Brandon drew another shaky breath. “And I couldn’t even do anything to help you. If Jassa and Sumna hadn’t been there and Keith had gotten you--” Brandon’s throat closed up. The thought was so horrifying he could even comprehend it.

“Brandon.“ Jordan was horrified. He wanted, badly, to wipe the tears off of Brandon’s face, but when he reached out, not thinking, Brandon cringed away.

“Please. Don’t,” Brandon said, harsher than intended, a hot panic blooming inside his chest. He instinctively withdrew, knees to chest, shoulders hunching, chin tucking and hands coming up to ward off Jordan’s advancement. Even though he knew all that was touching him right then was his own clothing, stiff grass and the hot, sticky Odwayon air, the memory of Rajar’s hands, warm, soft and alien, were too vivid, too close to his memory, threatening to break the oily surface and drag him back to a place he’d rather not go. He didn’t want Jordan to be a part of that, to be anywhere near it.

Jordan froze, recoiled slightly himself, and mentally berated himself for being so clueless. His store of information on rape was nearly nonexistent, but even he knew not to touch a rape victim without permission. His mind played back a swift, silent interlude of times he had casually, carelessly touched Brandon, simple caresses, skin-to-skin contact. He remembered how he had failed to notice or even ignored the way Brandon would often lean away, tense up or try to avoid contact all together. How could he have been so blind?

“Sorry,” Jordan said. “But-just please understand. This wasn’t your fault at all. You weren’t responsible for any of this.”

“I made you bring us here. I’m responsible for all of this,” Brandon said. He closed his eyes. His tears had dried away, leaving him feeling empty and tired.

“Don’t go down that route again," Jordan said.

Brandon leaned forward, resting his forehead against his knees. “Let’s go back,” he finally said, getting up from the ground. Jordan scrambled back to his feet. He followed Brandon back silently, trying to process the information in his head. It was a long walk and by the time the village came back to view, Jordan felt like he should say something, but the moment he tried, Brandon shook his head and cut him off.

“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it right now,” Brandon told him gruffly. “I just…need some time, okay?”

That didn’t sit well with Jordan, but he didn’t say anything since the last time he pushed Brandon to talk it had ended pretty badly. So he just followed Brandon up to their pod. Jordan saw Jassa heading their way and moved to intercept her.

“Jassa, I apologize,” he said before she could get geared up. “I know you and Sumna are anxious to get going and I promise you an answer soon, but please, not right now.”

She blinked, looking a little surprised. “Bad timing?”

“The worst,” Jordan confirmed. “Just…give us some space for a few hours.”

She nodded. “Okay. Okay. Anything that you need?”

“Some food wouldn’t hurt,” Jordan said. “Can you-”

“Sure.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. Go to him, Jordan, I can feel his pain.”

That threw him off his stride for a moment--he had forgotten about Jassa’s empathic abilities.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage before slipping back into the pod. Brandon was lying on his side on his cot, presenting his back, face to the wall.

“Look at me,” Jordan said, sitting on the edge of his cot. Brandon complied with no argument, turning to look at him.

“I was wondering,” Brandon said slowly. “Do you want to go with Jassa and Sumna back to Driamor?”

Jordan blinked, surprised. “If it’s alright with you.”

Brandon looked thoughtful. “I don’t know.” In truth, he didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to go home, but was afraid to leave Odwayon, which was safe and quiet. Peaceful. But still…he knew Jordan wanted to go. And Keith was still out there. And could be looking for him. A cold fear wormed his way back into his stomach.

Something in his expression must have shown in Brandon’s face, because Jordan slid down onto the floor and shifted towards Brandon’s cot. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it now.”

“Jassa and Sumna need to know,” Brandon said. “Not specifics, but if they are going up against Keith, with or without our help, they need to know about the weapons Keith uses. He’s partial to his poisons. He uses Rajar’s venom to immobilize and mixes it with something called Serahket to cause pain. And don’t forget about the trap he set for Nikki.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right. Keith doesn’t like confrontation. He attacks from afar, or when his victim is defenseless. He won’t touch either one of them until they are incapacitated. He might not even worry about attacking them at all; he has a palace with a league of trained guards at his disposal. He could label them traitors and have them killed for treason on sight.”

“So we’ll have to be careful,” Brandon said. “Use discretion. Slip in undetected and wait until the perfect moment before making our move.”

Jordan heard Brandon’s flawless transition from them to us, but didn’t mention it. There was a shuffling and a light knock on the door. Brandon glanced up, some tension tightening his body up again.

“Who is that?” he asked.

“Food, I hope,” Jordan said, opening the door. A tray with warm, moist bread and two heavy bowls of stew covered by a towel set sat outside along with two carafes, one of water, and one of juice. Odwayon comfort food. Jordan pulled the tray in and set it down on the narrow strip of floor space in between the two cots. Brandon slid down the bed and looked at the food nervously. It smelled wonderful, but his stomach was a funny thing. Sometimes he could eat with no problem, other times he couldn’t work up an appetite no matter what he did, and if he forced food down, it would just come back up later, once Brandon had found a relatively private place. Brandon took a careful spoonful and ate. It went down easily and Brandon finished up the meal quickly. When through, Jordan gathered up their remaining silverware and dishes, then left to return them.

Brandon moved back over to his cot, pressing his pillow against his face. In his head, he had already developed a clear picture of how their trip to Charion was to work out. Like a movie. Swoop in, dispatch the baddies, save the girl and ride off into the sunset with his blond haired, blue eyed lover alongside him. Explore a brave new world while he was at it and just Create and Enable whatever they needed. It was going to be so simple, so easy. But nowhere in his movie script was it written that the girl died, the lover fell into an enchanted sleep or that the hero got ass fucked by one of the bad guys. That stuff doesn’t happen to the hero. He was to get caught, tortured a little bit to show manliness and fortitude and then engineer a stunningly brilliant escape. Or maybe a heroic rescue. Maybe. But not this.

Things were not supposed to work out this way.

Jordan walked back to the pod slowly. He felt numb, unsure, and for the first time in a long time, had no idea what to do. He knew that whatever was bothering Brandon was bad…but he had assumed it had something to do with Leia. Not that Brandon had been…had been…

He shuddered and shook his head, unable to even form the words inside his head. God. God.

He paused right outside the pod, wanting to take a minute. He was such a fuck up. He could have avoided all this, if he had just listened for Brandon for once in his life and had not drank that stupid tonic! Then he would have been awake and able to help him, and then his lover wouldn’t have been left at the mercy of a sadistic, seductive monster. Instead, he had just laid there unconscious and useless.

And then, afterwards, when Brandon had needed him the most, what had he done? Selfishly cocooned himself in a comforting dream. God, what if Brandon hadn’t been able to reach him and bring him back? He would have had to go through this all alone.

And how could it have taken him so fucking long to notice something was wrong?

He hated himself.

He sat down on the walkway, tears springing to his eyes. He shouldn’t have made so many mistakes. He should have been there for Brandon. Now his lover, the only thing that made his life worth living, was miserable and damaged. That monster had taken a part of Brandon away from him, a special, precious part of him and he would never get that back.

He huffed out an irritated breath. Could he get anymore selfish? God. He rubbed his forearm around his eyes, then slid both palms down his face in an effort to at least appear calm and in control. Brandon needed him to be stable and strong right now. Brandon had taken care of him when he was going through his own problems. He would get through this.

Jordan re-entered the pod and saw Brandon lying on his cot, with a pillow over his face. “Baby?” Jordan asked, a brief bubble of panic swelling his chest as he ran over and plucked the pillow away. Brandon’s face was impassive, his eyes shut, but his chest rising and falling in a steady, easy pattern. He was just sleeping. Jordan gently placed the pillow back down next to him and stepped away.

Brandon needs time, Jordan thought, watching him sleep. And that was something they were in desperately short supply of. Charion was on the verge of collapsing around them, and as far as Jordan saw, they had two choices. Join Sumna and Jassa in their crusade to save Charion. Or leave. Hightail it for Torran and the Stonestack and beam the fuck out of here.

Jordan wanted, dearly, to help Jassa and Sumna. Partially because they were the only people he had met here who understood how special Charion was. Because he rather liked both of them, liked what they were willing to do.

But this was about Brandon now. And if Brandon wanted to leave and go home, then that’s what they would do. Jordan couldn’t blame him for wanting that. That’s probably what he would want, too. He would be disappointed, yeah, but Brandon came first. Always had, always will. Because, damn it, he loved him.

He smiled, softly, and bent to press a gentle kiss to Brandon’s forehead.

When Brandon woke up later, he rolled over and saw Jordan on his cot on the other side of the room, reading another large book. Jordan glanced up at the movement and put the book down.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Brandon replied. He closed his eyes again, but didn’t fall back asleep. He could remember that morning, the confession he made and felt his face grow warm with the memory. He was relieved to have it out in the open, but at the same time hated himself for saying it. For revealing that hideous, ugly part of himself to the person he loved.

“We need to talk,” Jordan said, gentle but firm, and Brandon heaved a mental sigh. Of all the things Jordan could have said to him right then, that was one of the things he didn’t want to hear.

Brandon opened his eyes and looked at Jordan but didn’t offer anything verbally. Jordan, apparently satisfied with that, continued.

“Sumna and Jassa. I’m not sure how long their patience will last. I hate to push you on this, but we need to decide if we go with them or not.”

“Where would we go if we didn’t go with them?” Brandon asked.

Jordan looked a little taken aback. “Well…I was assuming we would go home. Or…we could stay here, I guess, if you want to.”

“Would that bother you?” Brandon asked.

“I don’t know. I guess not,” Jordan said, sitting on the edge of his cot. “I mean, I don’t care where I live, just who I live with. And the only person I want to live with is right here, so I’m happy wherever we are.”

“I think--I think I want to go with Sumna and Jassa,” Brandon said. “After that, I’m not sure.”

“Okay. Just make sure Brandon. You know there is a high possibility that we might run into either Keith or Rajar, if not both.”

“I know,” Brandon said. “And I have issues to settle with both of them.”

“Don’t go in there looking for trouble,” Jordan cautioned.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Brandon responded, his tone cooling. “But I want to keep an eye on Sumna and Jassa.”

“Why?” Jordan asked. They seemed more than capable of taking care of themselves.

“Sumna has asked some questions about the baby,” Brandon said. “I can’t figure out why she is interested. I was able to see it and it’s not human, but still…I think she wants to kill it.”

“Probably,” Jordan said. Brandon gave him a look that was surprise mixed with…was that hurt?

“And you’re okay with that?” Brandon asked.

“Brandon, that thing never should have existed in the first place,” Jordan said. “We talked about that ages ago.”

“But that was when Leia was pregnant in our world,” Brandon pointed it. “This is Charion; everything is different here. Maybe this baby has a place here.”

“That thing is the result of an unwilling union between a monster from this world and a human from ours. It killed its mother giving birth. It’s not a baby,” Jordan said.

“Since when did we fucking decide that it’s okay for us to decide who lives and who dies here? Fuck, Jordan, neither one of us has really seen the thing. Who says it’s bad, or wrong, or unnatural? We don’t know anything about it.” Brandon sat up. “I don’t think it should be destroyed unless we have evidence, hard evidence, that it is dangerous, and I’m not going into that palace with a plan of killing it on my mind. I don’t want you to tell Sumna and Jassa that I saw it. I don’t want to give them any more information on the infant at all. Baby or not, I’m not okay with killing it without good reason and that’s my last word on the matter.”

“Okay, okay,” Jordan said, raising his hands. “Calm down.”

“I will not fucking calm down!” Brandon said, getting to his feet. “I’m serious here. Don’t try to placate me and act like I’m a fragile mess just because you found out what happened to me.”

“Okay, fine.” Jordan got to his feet as well, his voice rising slightly. “I won’t tell anybody anything. Now sit the hell back down.”

Brandon sat back down, but it was more from feeling tired than from Jordan’s request. Jordan sat back down as well.

“I won’t promote the killing of an innocent person is all,” Brandon said, keeping his voice even. “And you can’t prove that Leia’s son is any different from a normal person, morally speaking. I-I doubt that Jassa or Sumna have the same principles. You know, Jassa burned down Dathilda’s house.”

Jordan visibly flinched, even though his face remained impassive. “What?”

“While you were at the palace, Dathilda’s house was set on fire. I was there. I saw someone matching Jassa’s description there when the fire started.”

Jordan looked both angry and confused, raising a hand up to the bridge of his nose. “Why?”

Brandon relayed what Sumna had told him. Jordan listened impassively, then sighed.

“Well, I see their reasoning, but I don’t agree with it. Still, there is a pretty good degree of difference between cleaning up after Keith and killing a living being, deliberately and intentionally. Still…it can’t hurt to be with them when they go to the Eastern Palace.”

“I don’t want them to hurt the baby,” Brandon repeated, feeling like a broken record.

“We won’t let them, okay?” Jordan said.

Brandon smiled a little and lay down on his side. “Thanks.”

They sat quietly for several minutes. “I think…considering what you went through at the palace…that we need to get you to a healer as well,” Jordan finally said.

“Why?” Brandon asked. Aside from knocking him around a few times, Rajar hadn’t hurt him too bad physically.

“Well.” Jordan paused for a moment, wanting to make sure he phrased it the way he wanted. “Charion is different from our world, but it doesn’t discount the possibility that there are some sicknesses that can be passed from person to person.”

“STDs,” Brandon said, raising an eyebrow. His tone turned ugly. “Can’t wait to find out if it’s safe to fuck me again?”

“My primary concern is your safety,” Jordan responded calmly. “You were subjected to high doses of an unfamiliar poison, not to mention whatever you were given before Sumna and Jassa found you. I want to make sure it doesn’t have any long lasting, damaging health effects. I don’t believe you are in any danger, but I think we would both feel better if you at least got checked.”

“I feel fine,” Brandon said, but both could hear that the lie lacked any real conviction.

“It would give you peace of mind, at least,” Jordan said. He hesitated, then slid off the bed, crawling across the short separation and stopping at the side of Brandon’s bed, remaining crouched on the floor. “Please?”

“I won’t let them examine me,” Brandon said, his voice showing traces of panic and fear.

“Of course not, of course not,” Jordan soothed. “Do…do you want to talk-”

“No,” Brandon said. “No.”

“Okay.” Jordan bit his lip. “What can I do?”

Brandon stared down at him, then slid his hand forward, kept reaching until his fingers found Jordan’s. He took Jordan’s hand, held it, letting it rest in the bracket of space in between them.

“Just this. For now. Okay?”

Jordan glanced up into Brandon’s brown, blood shot eyes and smiled slightly.

“Works for me.”