One Year Older and Wiser, Too (Sam et Dymphna)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el had cleaned up a bit before they left their little pavilion, wearing the clothes that Dymphna had helped him pick out in the Fall to prepare for the Winter. He wore the wool well, his body lithe with whipcord muscle over a long frame. Holding Denen's hand without shame, but also without a full understanding of the implications in the Brokensongs' minds, he gave a squeeze of support as well, and grinned at Dymphna when they caught each other's eyes after seeing some little detail at the same time. When Denen moved ahead and the pavilion's firstwife bade him stay and listen, he smiled. "Denen is a good friend, Mistress. He is always welcome at my fire." There was a quick flash of self-deprecating humor. "Besides, it takes two healers to keep me from breaking my head open and losing my brains on the average day." That said, he and Dymphna moved to follow their friend.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen was happy to hold hands with Sama'el, though he knew what his family would think. Still, for once in his life, he didn't want to be afraid. He wanted to be open about who and what he was. And with Sam and Dymphna there, he was quite brave enough to do so. At least for a little while, until the thought of going to see his father had him walking in front of them, wringing his hands nervously. Pebble smiled to Sam and nodded, gently patting her arm. "He's a good boy," she said softly, smiling after him. "Now, run along." She was, very clearly, a woman who spent a lot of time with children, one with immeasurable patience. Denen held the flap of his father's tent open, smiling in at his niece and nephew. They both waved and grinned at him, which brought Stone's eyes up to his youngest boy. "Denen. What brings you home?" Denen smiled nervously and stepped aside to let Sam and Dymphna in. "I wanted to introduce you to some of my friends, Father," he informed, his face flushing.

[Dymphna]

Denen’s wringing hands worried her. She was, of course, concerned about the situation a bit more because of it. Denen was high on her list of things she worried about. Before they got to the tent, she gave Sam a little glance. He’d know what she was thinking, or at least she assumed he would. When she had a chance to step inside, she offered Stone a smile that was nothing short of whimsical before putting a supportive hand to the small of Denen’s back.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Dymphna's worries were not lost on Sama'el, and he certainly shared them though he attempted not to be his normal, transparent self about it. When Denen let them into the tent, he smiled because he wanted to be what Denen's father was, though of course he would still be Sama'el. He stood beside and a little behind Denen, showing him the respect of such deference in his own pavilion. The hand holding from earlier, he took in stride. Perhaps it was not right to do. He knew that Denen looked at him in a similar fashion to Dymphna's looks, and while he cared a great deal for his friend, Denen seemed to feel that it was not right. But that was a matter for another day. His friend didn't feel welcome in his own pavilion, and Sama'el knew that that was not right. He stood by his little knot of a pavilion, bound only by the bonds of affection.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen attempted to smile brightly before his father, though Stone admittedly made the boy nervous. He forced his hands down to his sides, not wanting to seem overly anxious or nervous, though he was sure that Stone would pick up on it. He wasn't very good at hiding how or what he felt. "Father, this is Sama'el, and Dymphna Whitefeather. They're my friends. I've been staying with them." Stone motioned for his grandchildren to leave the tent, before turning his attention to his youngest child and the newcomers. His arms crossed over his chest, and he eyed them up levelly. He cleared his throat, and then looked to his son, as if having forgotten that the others were there. "You ought to be looking for a wife, rather than playing with other boys like a child, Denen. You are...more than old enough to be married." Denen's face was, by this point, a brilliant shade of red. He looked down at his feet, but said nothing, causing Stone to give an annoyed sigh, and give his attention to Sam and Dymphna. "I hope his hanging around the two of you hasn't caused any problems. He means well, but he's...a bit dependent on others. I'd hoped his going off on his own would change that." He glanced over to Denen and forced his head up, frowning. "Pay attention," he said shortly. "You can be spoken to without pouting." Denen nodded, but said nothing, refusing to look to Sam and Dymphna. Stone took this as a cue to continue. "Sama'el, do you not have a Pavilion name?" Ever tactful was Stone Brokensong.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

OOCI'm just going to go because I've managed to sneak a connection and I'm not sure when my next opportunity will be. Happy holidays!

"It is an honor, Ankal Brokensong," he said, making the ritual obeisance of a Drykas man without any stature among the horseclans to a tried and true leader of a pavilion. But the man paid him little heed at first and, having retracted his hand from Denen's shoulder to introduce himself, he could only give silent and non-tactile support as the man judged his son in front of siblings and friends. It was an effort to bottle his reactions and feelings into a mere frown at the disrespect he showed his own son, but Sama'el knew that he could not fight this battle for Denen without turning him into what his father said: a mere dependent. But finally, he was given an opportunity to speak. "Not as yet, Ankal," he said, chin coming up just a touch in what might have been defiance, but if it was, it was against anyone who might believe him incapable of accomplishing what he had set out to do, and not against Stone Brokensong in particular. "My Pavilion was destroyed when I was young. I aim to have my own within a year." Bold words, perhaps, but Dymphna believed in him. So did Denen, and Eldon, and others. He wasn't just Sam the Slave anymore; he was Sama'el of the Sapphire Clan, and soon he would be an Ankal as well. "I have joined the Stormwatch as an apprentice Web Mage," he informed him, to show him that he was already putting his money where his mouth was, in the crude way Sunberthers had of speaking about determination. "And Denen has been invaluable as a healer, keeping me healthy, as well as my horses." Dymphna had had her part as well, but he knew she was too generous to take this as a slight, but merely a situation where they needed to be entirely behind Denen. And, of course, horses were as important as people in their culture, so that was an added benefit. "I am glad everyday of his friendship and help," he declared, looking the Ankal square in the eyes.

[Dymphna]

“Sir,” she said quietly, allowing that to be the only word she’d offer the man at that point. He seemed more intent on focusing on what he disliked of his own son or the lack of Sama’el’s pavilion name. There wasn’t much she could do to remedy the situation… Which she suddenly had a sinking feeling in her stomach was going to get worse the longer they remained there. She was not one to disrespect an Ankal. So instead she lowered her eyes to the ground, and moved to clasp her hands in front of her. It was, in a way, a reaction that had kept her alive in the past… She wasn’t the most docile of women, but apparently she knew how to be when it was necessary. But a docile creature would not have survived and escaped Zith. It was safe to say that Dymphna was already plotting a way to at least tend to the wounds that this visit was going to create as soon as they were away from it.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen didn't want to pay attention to what was being said. In all honesty, he would have preferred curling up under a rock and dying. Or something of that nature. But as it was, he watched the conversation passing between his father and Sam, before he cast a short, apologetic glance to Dymphna. He hadn't expected it to go this way. How he had anticipated things ending, he wasn't sure, but he had hoped his father might show better manners than this. Stone seemed quite interested in what Sama'el had to say, and for the moment focused his attentions on him, rather than on his boy. Denen sighed softly, and hunched down a bit, trying to focus on what Sam was saying, rather than on his own upset. Lingering on it would have done him no good. "It seems you have big plans ahead of you," Stone stated, giving an approving nod of his head. "Do you anticipate getting yourself a wife soon, then?" He glanced to Denen, frowning. "Grandchildren are the greatest heritage a child could offer to their parent. Fortunately, I have six other children who seem to understand that." It was at this point that poor Denen, who had been shifting and fidgeting in discomfort, had had enough. He clenched his jaw, and his entire, wiry body grew tense. He stood up straight, and looked his father directly in the face. His hands raised and moved with lightening speed. "Father, stop it! I realize I don't please you like my brothers and sisters, but can you not be content with what I have offered? His blue eyes grew bright, wet now. "I do my best to honor our family name. I work hard. I even survived the Great Hunt! I am very sorry that I have no wife, that I have no interest in a wife, but I will not spend my life bound to a woman simply because it would make you happy! I do not want to be married. As strange as it may seem to you, I have no interest in females." He squared himself, quivering like a furious leaf, and glared up at Stone Brokensong. In spite of his rage, when he next spoke, his words were remarkably clear and precise "Dammit, Father, I kissed a boy, and I liked it!" Saying this, he grabbed both Sama'el and Dymphna by their hands and marched out of the tent, leaving a stunned Stone behind him.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

While he was preparing to make a response to Stone Brokensong that was respectful without being weak, Denen surprised him by speaking up for himself. It was strange to watch family dynamics like this; he was used to the Whitefeathers now, at least in part, and he had seen other families, but rarely was he allowed to witness the hurtful, secretive parts of family life. Anything he might have said was cut off by Denen steering them in no uncertain terms toward the tent flap and the great, wide beyond. He didn't say anything then, but glanced at Denen and Dympha both, and waited to see what would happen next. He was trying to be a leader, but in this, he had to follow. Of course, if Denen did nothing but break down as soon as possible, he and Dymphna would have to build him back up again. Though he remembered his family through rose-tinted spectacles, he wondered if he had not been spared things like this for having lost them.

[Dymphna]

It wasn’t very often that Dymphna encountered someone she simply didn’t like. The young woman would even occasionally defend the Zith as having their own place in the world, and she didn’t much join in with those proud of taking their lives. Listening to Stone Brokensong, she felt genuine distress over not caring for him. At all. And for a fleeting moment she found herself worrying once again that she’d never be a great healer because of it. Where her own mind was going, though, hit a wall as Denen spoke up for himself. She lifted her gaze, eyes wide with wonder. A sense of pride swelled in her chest for her friend. Despite how painful the moment surely was, Denen, whether he realized it or not, was asserting himself as a man! It took all her power not to start grinning, which only left her lips contorting almost comically to avoid doing so. As she was pulled away, a single glance was cast back at Stone. She hoped it would be the last time she saw him, and she noted to herself she’d have to pray for someone else to heal him – For clearly he was wounded in some way that caused him not to see the beauty that was his son. She peeked at Sam. Of course she was worried, but the pride leaked out all the same. Her attention turned to Denen then, waiting to see what would happen next.