by TR Rook
Brand should know that better than anyone. How many years had he treated Garrick like crap, only because he was afraid of his father? How much grief had he caused Garrick for all those years, just because he had been too terrified to tell him the truth? He had been such a bastard... It was a wonder Garrick had even bothered to take him with him to Vortigern at all after Brand had dealt with that lindworm.
And yet Brand had continued to be a bastard afterwards. He had avoided Garrick, had not wanted to talk to him... because he couldn’t. Because Garrick had another lover, the witch he was bound to, and there was no space for Brand in his new life. So Brand had left. He had to get away—get his own life. Get over Garrick, once and for all.
And just when he thought he might’ve found what he needed... it turned out that that person was still in love with someone else, someone who treated him like crap. Someone so like what Brand had used to be.
Chapter Three
Wolf
Khatlah pulled away when he had calmed down, and he looked up at Brand searchingly. His eyes were still wet, his face bore clear evidence of his crying, and yet Brand still wanted to kiss him so badly.
“You speak like you have experience,” Khatlah commented, the desire for Brand to share his story clear in his voice.
“I have,” Brand replied. “Except I was the bastard in my story, the one acting like Kamoor does towards you now.”
“Was this towards this Lorcan?”
Brand couldn’t help but smile slightly at that. “No, Lorcan is... he is a very powerful witch, and he has a lover whom he has been with for a very long time. No, my friend’s name is Garrick. He’s a shifter, like me; we were part of the same pack. But my father did not approve of my friendship with him, and I... I was too afraid of what he would do to me. So I distanced myself, stopped talking to him, and when I did I was not kind. Garrick really thought I hated him. He probably still does.”
“You never made amends?”
“No.” Brand shook his head. “He tried talking to me after I warned him to get out of the village. The pack did not like that he had gone and got himself bound to a witch. I was severely punished for warning him, then banished. Garrick brought me back to the fortress, Lorcan’s fortress. But I... Garrick had fallen in love with his witch, and I would cause him nothing more than grief by being there, for I just could not like his lover, even though he seemed really sweet. So once I was healed, I left.”
Khatlah’s hand was suddenly at his jaw, caressing his face softly. When Brand looked up at him, Khatlah bent forward so that their foreheads rested together. “So you claim Kamoor does not hate me, that he in fact is still in love with me.”
“I do.” The words hurt coming out, but Brand could not lie. He had lied almost all his life, he could not do it anymore. “I am absolutely certain of it.”
Khatlah closed his eyes, squeezing them shut as if he were in pain. But his fingers did not stop caressing Brand’s face, and Brand revelled in the soft feel of them ghosting along his skin.
“What are you helping Kamoor with?” Khatlah asked then. Brand could not say if he changed the subject for distraction or if he was genuinely curious.
“To locate the rest of the slayers,” Brand told him quietly.
Khatlah drew a shaky breath, then pulled away. His eyes fell on the bed pallet. “Can I stay here with you tonight? Just... stay. In case you do not come back, I want... just to be with you tonight.”
Brand nodded and they moved over to the bed pallet, both lying down on their backs, with suitable space between them. The silence stretched on, but suddenly Khatlah rolled over, resting his head on Brand’s chest.
“I have been lonely for so long,” he whispered. “Before I was always with Kamoor, then when he... I was all alone after that. I do not make friends easily, even being a prince. They all think me too weird.”
“Why would they think you weird?” Brand asked, frowning. Khatlah seemed no different than anyone else he had seen around the palace.
“Because I have no interest in the matters of state, or becoming a dragon rider, or getting married and raising a family. I do not belong in one certain group. Kamoor belongs to the riders, so does Sakoptari, though when he takes the throne he will become king. My brothers are all nicely settled down. I am the only one unattached, with no goal I am working towards and that makes me unusual, someone they cannot understand, and in a society where everyone is always working towards something... it is considered weird not to be working towards anything.”
“But why?” Brand questioned. “Is there nothing you want to do?”
“I always only wanted to be with Kamoor,” Khatlah replied, then he stiffened for a moment before he broke out into hysterical laughter. “I am so pathetic, aren’t I?” he managed to get out through his laughter. “Pining away for that man for so long!”
Brand couldn’t say much, he had been exactly the same and he could see what Khatlah saw in the Commander. He was a handsome man. Tall and with a nicely built, toned body, his skin a deep golden colour, attesting to the time he spent outside in the sun. His features were sharp and angular, and though every time Brand had seen him they had been set into a scowl, it did not make him look any less handsome.
“We should sleep,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears. “Apparently I am leaving early in the morning.”
Khatlah stiffened against him. Then he turned away, putting his back firmly to Brand. “Yeah.”
All kinds of emotions roiled behind that simple word, but Brand could not focus on Khatlah long enough to figure it out. Khatlah would have Kamoor, because they had to figure out their shit sometime, and Brand... he would probably move on. Maybe he should try the Jotun Territories, see if he had any more luck making a new life for himself there.
He had thought briefly that he could’ve made one in the desert, but his only friend, whom he had not known for long but found himself to be extremely attracted to, was in love with someone else. And Brand just could not live with that heartache again. That would be like going back to Vortigern and living with Garrick and his little earthwitch. It was something he just could not do. Not again. And this desert country... it didn’t matter if a dragon’s fire could burn him or not, because he could not stay here. Not when the situation was what it was.
So it was better to cut his ties, when said ties were as fresh as they were. They both would heal better that way. At least he hoped they would.
Kamoor stood in the open space in front of the palace’s front door, his eyes boring into Brand as he exited the cool building to walk out into the burning sun. Kamoor’s dragon stood behind him, its eyes, too, following Brand as he approached them.
He was flanked on both sides by Sakoptari and the other man who had been to the dungeons with them, the one that had mostly stayed by the cell door. They were also standing in front of their respective dragons.
No other people were around, only those three. They were all dressed in the manner Brand had come to recognize as standard for this desert, only the colours of their clothing varied. Kamoor’s clothes were black, Sakoptari’s were sand-coloured, as were those of the last man, whose name Brand did not know.
Brand was dressed exactly the same as the day before. A new set of clothes had been by his bed when he woke, but Khatlah had been gone. He must’ve slipped out in the night, when Brand had been fast asleep.
“Ready?” Kamoor stared at him as Brand stopped in front of him.
Brand only nodded, feeling dejected by the thought of his future prospects. He was all alone in the world, with no one to turn to. Khatlah, whom he at least considered to be a friend, was absent. He should’ve been there to say goodb—
“Brand!”
Brand turned slightly at the shout and found himself with an armful of Khatlah, who wrapped his arms around his neck and held fast tightly. Surprised at the sudden arrival and the tight embrace, Brand hesitantly wrapped his own arms around him.
He watched from the corner of
his eye how Kamoor’s neutral expression instantly turned into a scowl, but what really threw him was the satisfied smirk on Sakoptari’s face.
“You better come back,” Khatlah whispered into his ear. “You hear that? You better come back!”
He stepped back, arms falling away from Brand’s shoulders. He turned to Kamoor next, glaring. “He better come back. If something happens to him— If any of you do something to him—“ The warning was clear in his voice.
“We’ll bring your lover back, do not worry,” Sakoptari spoke up.
Khatlah looked at him, surprise evident in his face. Brand took in the smirk still on the crown prince’s face, then looked at Kamoor, who was still scowling. Something was going on, something he was missing completely...
Kamoor’s eyes suddenly cut to him, meeting Brand’s gaze head on. “Get on,” he ordered, motioning to his dragon.
Brand drew up short. “What?” He was not supposed to ride on that... was he?
“Get. On.” Kamoor grabbed his arm, hauling him up to the dragon’s side. It was geared up with something resembling a horse’s saddle. Hesitating briefly, looking at the dragon’s eyes as it turned its head to look at him, Brand climbed on.
Kamoor mounted in front of him, and Brand searched for somewhere else to hold on before he carefully inched his arms around Kamoor’s waist. He turned his head, looking back down at Khatlah, who was looking up at them, face unreadable.
Kamoor said something in his native tongue, a short, sharp word that could only be an order, and the dragon stood up properly, jostling Brand flush up against Kamoor’s back. Then it spread its wings, and moments later they were in the sky.
Brand had never thought about heights before, but then he had always been firmly on the ground. But... he was atop a dragon, far up in the sky, and he suddenly found himself clutching at Kamoor’s side so hard he knew Kamoor would most likely have bruises there for days. But he could not let go, because he was terrified. He was not made for heights—he was made for being on the ground, for running around in the woods.
The dragon glided through the sky, the enormous, powerful wings only beating once in a while to keep it up. Brand found it was better to watch the wings than to look down below.
He did not know how long they were in the sky, but the dragon gradually started to move towards the ground. It landed hard on the ground, jostling Brand flush up against Kamoor’s back again.
Scrambling down off of the dragon’s back, Brand turned to look at the woods and the mountains. It felt like it had been ages since last he had seen a tree, but he knew it really wasn’t. The events of the last days only made it seem so.
“We set camp here, then head out to thoroughly canvass the woods,” Kamoor spoke up.
Brand barely noticed as they moved around him, his eyes only for the mountains covered in woods. They were lush and green and reminded him so much of home... of the Fenris Forest, except the fact that it did not lay on a mountain.
“He did not leave your room last night.”
Brand jerked in surprise at Kamoor’s low voice coming from beside him. Turning his head, he watched Kamoor stare straight ahead, though Brand wasn’t at all sure he was actually seeing the forest.
“He did not leave your room.” Kamoor’s jaw clenched tight and Brand could clearly see the feelings warring inside him.
Brand did not say anything. Kamoor had not been kind to Khatlah, after all, so why should Brand appease his mind? Let him believe something else had been going on inside that room, let him taste the jealousy.
Brand turned, seeing that they had set camp in the middle of what appeared to be the ancient ruins of some house or temple. Sakoptari was within earshot, but he did not look at them, and the other man was further inside the ruins.
Kamoor turned on his heel, still not looking at Brand. “Sakoptari, Sarab! You will scout the east, we will take the west side. We meet back here come nightfall.”
Kamoor actually wanted to stay with him? Brand couldn’t help but stare at him. Did he want to stay close, to keep an eye on Brand? Or was he going to torture himself by staying with Khatlah’s supposed new lover? Or perhaps Brand would soon find himself very dead...
They parted ways, leaving the dragons behind to guard the camp. Brand did not know what to say, what to do as he suddenly found himself completely alone with Kamoor. At least before there had been two other men with them.
Kamoor’s hard, dark eyes cut to him as they walked deeper into the woods. “What does he see in you?” he questioned sharply.
Brand averted his gaze. “I do not know. What does he see in you?”
Kamoor turned his head roughly away, his jaw again clenching in anger. Brand couldn’t help but feel a bit satisfied at that, but his smile did not last for long. Khatlah loved Kamoor, no matter how cruel he had been to Khatlah in the past...
“Do not mock me. You know nothing about what has happened before you arrived.”
“I know that Khatlah spoke the truth to me last night,” Brand replied. “No one can make a lie so convincing, of that I am certain. He was crushed yesterday, because of you. Crushed. He has been alone for so long, no one gives him the time of day anymore. He was kind to me when no one else was, so I owe it to him to help him.”
“Help him?” Kamoor glared at him briefly before turning back to peruse the woods in front of him.
“Khatlah never betrayed you,” Brand told him quietly. “So wherever you got that notion, it is wrong. All he ever wanted was you.” Brand did not want to say the words, but he had to, for Khatlah. He quickened his steps, his boots crunching on the uneven ground of the forest, covered with grass, twigs and fallen leaves.
He could hear Kamoor following him, but he only increased his pace. Brand had lived in the forest all his life, while Kamoor was of the desert, and though he might be used to the treacherous ground of the woods, for Brand it was innate.
“Do not walk away from me, wolf!” Kamoor snapped. “You do not get to say such a thing and just walk away!”
“What more is there to say?” Brand replied tiredly.
“You do not know Khatlah. How can you know he speaks the truth?”
“I may not know him well, but when someone cries all over me, it generally means that person is speaking the truth!” Brand turned, glaring angrily at Kamoor. “Why can you not believe him? Who do you trust so much that you turn on the man you love?”
A stricken look flickered over Kamoor’s face for just a moment before he managed to mask it. He clenched his jaw again, anger burning in his eyes, but Brand could see the difference in it. His anger was no longer towards Brand, or even Khatlah, but someone else.
“Let us be civil and do what we are here to do,” he suggested, knowing that they would not get anything done if they continued to bicker. The ones they were there to find would hear them for miles—and they might run off, but most likely they would just kill them.
Kamoor’s anger dimmed as his mind settled on what they were supposed to do. He nodded, and Brand flexed his fingers, his eyes roaming. As a human he knew forests, he had lived in them, but as a wolf he was part of the forest.
“Let us hunt.” And so he shifted.
Brand used his powers to stoke the fire and watched the wood crackle. He could’ve made flames without the wood, but he did not want to constantly use his powers, because he did not want his eyes to constantly be the colour of the very flames he was looking at.
Kamoor was beside him, sitting on what appeared to be part of a fallen arch, and angrily carving on a piece of the wood they had brought from the forest. Brand did not have to look at him to see the anger and the tension, it was clear in his movements. It seemed to radiate from him. Night was starting to fall and they were waiting for Sakoptari and Sarab to come back.
Brand and Kamoor had not come across anything of interest in the forest, and had eventually returned to camp. The fact that the other two were not back yet gave Brand hope that they at least had discovered something.
>
Brand had not known the three men he had followed over the mountain had been a part of a bigger group. It did not surprise him, however. Those men had been scum and he had no doubt that the rest of the group was, too. He wanted them gone, because dragons were magnificent creatures that should not be killed in such ruthless ways.
“Do you name your dragons?” he questioned, breaking the heavy silence.
“Yes,” was the short reply.
Brand looked up at the sky. The dragons had left once he and Kamoor had come back, though he did not know to where. “What is your dragon’s name?” He couldn’t help but be curious, dragons were as far from his life as was possible. They had been myth to him for all his life, and though he had gone searching for them... he had not actually thought he would see one.
“Atesh,” Kamoor replied.
“Does it have a specific meaning?”
“Fire.”
Brand turned towards Kamoor at that and found him looking right back at him. In the ancient language, Brand’s name meant the exact same thing. He shared a name with Kamoor’s eerie dragon—it was a coincidence, but a disconcerting one.
“I do not think your dragon likes me,” he commented. “Though I should not be surprised. No one really does.”
“Khatlah likes you,” Kamoor replied, voice low.
Brand chuckled bitterly. “Not as much as he likes you.” Really, when this was over, Brand had to get away from there. He’d have to travel north, towards the Jotun Territory, because he was soon all out of options.
Kamoor cleared his throat, but movement ahead brought his attention away from Brand. Brand saw Sakoptari and Sarab heading towards camp, silently walking next to each other. Brand could practically feel Kamoor’s anger and tension return. Frowning, he did not even manage to turn his head before Kamoor was on his feet and stalking over to the two. He went right up to Sakoptari and swung his fist, catching the surprised prince on the side of his face.
Sakoptari went sprawling to the ground, but he quickly managed to get back on his feet and he stared with wide eyes back at Kamoor. “What is the matter with you?”