Being Drykas (Sam)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el patted Denen on the head, allowing him to use him as a pillow. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether to treat his friend as a boy or a girl, but when confused, he tried to simply treat him like a friend and hope for the best. So far, it seemed to be a working system. 'She was very kind... and beautiful, but I suppose a mother is always beautiful to her son, especially when she dies young. Sadly, I seem to lose more and more details, but I do feel like she is watching over me all the time. Do you suppose that is crazy?'

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen smiled, reaching up to touch Sam's wrist and giving a soft, quiet sigh. He'd always been demonstrative, even as a child. In fact, he had been even more so as a little boy, when his headaches and ears had hurt him to the point of crying helplessly while he clung to Jada, Pebble, or one of his older sisters. He laughed softly as Sam spoke, asking him if he thought it was crazy. "No," he answered honestly. "If I did, then I'd have to think myself a lunatic. When I was little, I used to come out here and chatter up to the sky. Me. Chattering. I'd ride Reth out, and pretend the tree had Mother's soul in it." He shook his head with a soft smile. "I was a stupid little kid. But...it helped me to understand things, I guess."

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

'For what it's worth, I don't think you were a stupid little kid, and I don't think you're a stupid man now. In some ways, I have it easy. My father is dead, so whatever differences we might have had... never happened. I am allowed the memory of a perfect childhood, but it may be that I just didn't have the... the experience to know any better. I'd trade arguments to have him back, but... that is the silver lining. I think you are very brave for standing up for yourself, and I am proud that you wanted me to be there for it. I am sure your mother is proud of you, too.' He didn't bother to wave Denen's hands away; his touch was so light that it didn't impede Sama'el from signing to him. It really was good practice having Denen around; he was much better equipped to communicate silently in the field for having all this practice.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen smiled and pressed his brow against Sam's shoulder now, a faint, almost sad smile touching his full lips. He'd never addressed his father like that before, nor had he ever been driven to that point of hurt. Stone had said such things in the past, but never in front of anyone. Denen hadn't thought he'd do such a thing until it was too late to stop it from happening. His cheeks flushed, and he buried his face in Sam's tunic, laughing softly. Brave? Him? He thought of how much he had changed over the past months. He had changed. He'd smacked a lion on the head with his medicine bag! He'd swung a sword at Kayiri! He, Denen, the little deaf boy who no one had expected to amount to anything, had stood up for himself. The corner of his lip twitched into a smile, and he gave an actual laugh, not his usual, silent shaking. The sound was hoarse, and might have been mistaken for a sob, but the light in his eyes revealed its nature. He lifted his head, and reached out to touch Sam's jaw, slowly turning his face to his own. A soft smile touched his lips, and without thinking, he leaned forward to kiss him. It took him a moment to register what he was doing, but when he had, his eyes widened, and he drew back, swallowing hard. "Oh, gods, Sama'el. I'm sorry!"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el had almost almond shaped eyes, dark and warm, usually sparkling with good cheer and good humor. When he had been a slave, people had made coarse jokes about his mother petching Lhavitian star-worshipers, and look how star-cross'd her progeny had become! But nobody would have made such a connection by the look of his eyes now, wide and astonished. The majority of his kisses in recent life had been with Merris in a brothel in Syliras and time spent with Dymphna. He had accidentally happened upon Aiken taking advantage of Denen, and Denen had confessed that it hadn't been exactly unwanted. So he was not surprised to find Denen kissing boys, but it hadn't seriously occurred to him that Denen wanted to kiss him. They were friends, of course, and affectionate with each other as puppies were, but this was new ground, at least for Sama'el. It was nice, he realized, and Denen was feminine enough that violent memories from his childhood were not resurrected to torment him and eat his brains. There was no answer for a moment as Sama'el collected his scattered wits. 'You don't have to apologize for asserting yourself,' he assured him, blinking a few times.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen had always been open with Sam, affectionate, even. He studied Sam's eyes even now, lost in their warmth. Sam was so very warm. And not just his eyes, though they spoke of the very depths of it. Denen was enthralled with them. It was difficult to look away, sometimes. As such, he generally didn't. He let himself wander Sam's eyes, dream of them. Things were...different with Sam. There had been friends before. Family members and the like. Not best friends, but still...But Sama'el? He had been different from the start. Full of hope, a shining beacon, as it were, to his deaf, quiet friend. He'd been fairly decent, he thought, at keeping his longing for his friend secret. It was embarrassing, after all, to love ones friend like that. He didn't want to ruin things, to lose his best friend because he couldn't keep his lips to himself. The sudden worry that Sam might be repulsed by what he had just done struck him, and his face paled with worry. His hands came up to cover his features, and he pressed his elbows close to his sides. "S-Sam..." He didn't want him to see how red he'd become, nor how he trembled with worry. He lowered his hands after a short while, in time to see Sama'el speak. His blue eyes lifted, and he looked up to Sam meekly. "Yes, I do. If I...Goddess forgive me if I ever offend you, Sam." He gave a soft sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, and gently took Sam's hands in his own. "I care very deeply for you, Sama'el. I...want to be part of your Pavilion. If you will have me, I mean." He glanced up then, chewing his lower lip, feeling he owed him some sort of explanation. "You do not have to kiss me, Sam, or...even feel the same way. But I want to stay." Oh, goddess, he had so much to tell Dymphna.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Nothing seemed to have changed in Sama'el's eyes. They remained warm and earnest, and there was nothing to misinterpret as rejection there. He was more thoughtful than before, and certainly he had quite a bit to tell Dymphna too. There was no secret to his courtship of her, and while he could see that inner fire of hers flaring up under some circumstances, somehow he didn't think this would be one of them. He patted Denen's hand. 'I do hope you will stay with us,' he signed. 'You have given me a lot to think about.' His smile was no different from before, either.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen watched Sam for the slightest hint of alarm, for any trace of upset or--gods forbid--rejection. But he could see none. Sam's eyes maintained their gentle sweetness, and he felt relief wash over him. He gave Sam's hands a squeeze, and he managed a smile, hopeful now. He already knew that Dymphna wasn't going to be upset, but his head was going seven thousand ways. "N-Not...Not t-t-too much, I h-hope," he stammered, his face flushing, and thin, deft fingers lifted to tuck a loose strand of Sama'el's soft curls behind his ear. He smiled, a genuine, tender smile, and sat back against his heels. He exhaled slowly, and he nodded. "Sam, I've never showed you my windmarks before, have I?" He looked thoughtful a moment, and then smiled again. "The tattoo runs up my back." He motioned to the tree near them. "It looks something like that." His hands fell quiet for a moment, and he bowed his head. "Of course I'll stay, Sama'el. You're my family." He glanced to their horses, his eyes softening at the sight of Reth rubbing his face against Dohaina's neck. The gelding was wizened, something of a patriarch amongst the horses, but he was still inclined to coltish things. Like nipping at Dohaina's rump.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

'Not too much,' he assured him, still smiling. One would certainly detect an unshed wetness to his dark eyes at the admission of family. Certainly he had lost enough family in his few years to compare with oldsters who had lived five times his years. Even with his cousin, Eldon, he could only let that family so far into his life, wanting to rebuild what was lost rather than be absorbed into something else. But Dymphna and Denen wanted to be his family; that was powerful to him. 'Well, aren't you going to show me your tree?' he asked, somehow managing to convey a lilt of humor to the flickering of his fingers. Perhaps Denen was more coy and clever than he seemed.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen's smile widened at the assurance, and he leaned forward to embrace Sam gently. His soft cheek pressed against Sam's, and he breathed deeply. There was more to his desire than simply yearning for Sam, though he felt that as well. Sama'el was his best friend. His best, human friend at any rate. He loved him, and he wanted the best for him. He doubted his own ability to give that, but he wanted to do the very best that he could. His face went red at Sam's words, and he bit his lower lip, wondering if he realized how...dirty it appeared. He grinned and nodded slowly, before he shifted himself about, to let his back face Sama'el. Slowly, almost sensually, he began to draw the wide neck of the tunic down around his shoulders. He slid out one arm, pale and wiry, followed by the next, before the plain fabric slid down, inch by inch, and bunched around his waist. It revealed a smooth, slender back, through which the faint bumps of ribs could be seen, and the wide, spreading branches of a tree, the roots of which disappeared into the fabric at his rump. He reached back to pull his hair over his shoulder, making his windmarks more visible. He glanced back at Sam, offering a shy smile. After all, he didn't show the tattoo to everyone. "W-What d-d-d-do you think?" He asked, his voice trembling slightly. The chilled air caused the hair on his arms to stand up on end, and the pink nubs on his chest to perk. He shivered slightly.