MASTERPOST: In the Time of Dragons - (J2, NC-17)

[amypond45]

Title: In the Time of Dragons
Artist: OutofNowhere82
Author: amypond45
Other Pairing(if applicable): none
Rating: R
Warnings/Spoilers: fantasy AU, one explicit sex scene, bottom Jared
Summary: Jensen is a dragon-rider, selected and trained up to bond with a dragon and protect the island Kingdom. Jared is a servant of the Northern Outpost who harbors a years-old crush on Jensen. When Jensen and his team of dragon riders are sent to investigate a possible invasion of the Western Reaches, Jensen selects Jared to accompany them. It becomes clear that Jensen sees something in the young servant that Jared doesn’t even see in himself, not to mention the fact that Jensen harbors a crush of his own.

Art: Tumblr

Story: Below the Cut or A03

//**//**/

“Riders approaching!”

Jared finishes wiping the table and hurries down the corridor towards the stairs that lead to the Great Hall along with the other servants.

Dragon Riders incoming means all hands on deck.

Jared’s secretly hoping his favorite Rider will be among them. Jensen of Ackles is the most beautiful man Jared has ever seen, and the way Jensen makes Jared feel when he looks at him is the best feeling Jared’s ever known.

Jared slips into the line-up of servants just as the doors to the Great Hall open wide and the Riders stride into the big room. There are three of them, all dressed in the close-fitting tunics and breeches of a fully-trained Dragon Rider, the crest on their chests giving away their occupations, as well as their alliance to the Kingdom. They don’t carry swords or shields because they don’t need to. Their dragons are weapons and protectors both. In battle as on patrol, dragons and their riders are unparalleled. Having a fleet of them protecting the Kingdom or riding into battle means victory and prosperity for all.

Jared was born into a peaceful time, thanks to these heroes. He doesn’t take it for granted for a second. The older servants have told him stories of the old days, before the dragons came to the Kingdom. There were regular raids by the Island people, as well as marauding inland tribes who stole food, weapons, even people. The entire Kingdom was a land of grief and starvation back then.

Then the Ageless Ones, Jeffrey Dean of Morgan and Samantha of Smith, arrived, bringing with them the eggs that hatched into the dragons that protect the Kingdom today. Jeffrey and Samantha founded the Dragon Academy, where one hundred children were selected to compete and train to become the first Dragon Riders.

That was over fifty years ago. Every four years since, children from all over the Kingdom have been selected to be trained up as riders. Jensen of Ackles was among the most recent graduates of the Dragon Academy, along with six others. Six out of the thirty-seven children recruited during his selection year to be raised and trained at the Academy made it all the way to graduation.

Now, three of them are here in the Great Hall of The Northern Outpost, the fortress on the Northernmost border of the Kingdom. Jared has lived here half of his life, including the six months when Jensen was stationed here four years ago. Those were the best months of Jared’s life. He’s twenty now, the age that Jensen was when he was stationed here, and he pulls himself up to his full height of six-and-a-half feet in hopes that Jensen will notice him and remember.

“Welcome, my lords,” Jim Beaver, the crusty old commander of The Outpost, greets the Dragon Riders. “May I present my serving staff. You are welcome to select a personal servant for your stay here, if you wish.”

Jared feels three sets of eyes sweep over him.

“Jared.” The honey-smooth baritone he knows so well speaks low and clear. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You as well, my lord,” Jared answers courteously as Jensen steps close, looking up at him in amused surprise.

“You got tall,” Jensen notes.

Jared blushes and grins, ducking his head. His long hair brushes his cheek. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll take Jared,” Jensen tells Jim Beaver, who nods solemnly.

The other Riders select their personal servants, and the entire party retires to the Other Great Hall, where tables are set for dinner. A roaring fire warms the room, and lamps light up the darkest corners so that the room is almost cozy.

Jared and the rest of the serving staff serve wine and platters of fresh game, bread, and cheese, along with dishes of roasted root vegetables and fruit preserves from the cellar. The Riders chat with The Outpost elders, bringing news from the other Outposts.

“The Western Reaches have been raided by sea again,” Jensen reports darkly. “We ride out in the morning to offer our assistance.”

“Such a short stay,” Jim Beaver says, shaking his head. “We had hoped you would be here longer. We’ve made improvements to the Wall and the Village. We had hoped to offer you a tour.”

“Not this time, my friend,” Jensen says. “Time is of the essence. With your permission, I would like to take Jared with me.”

Jared stops in his tracks, staring, mouth agape, nearly-forgotten pitcher of wine dangling from one hand.

Jensen raises his eyes to Jared and gives him an amused wink when he notes the young man’s surprise.

“With Jared’s permission as well, of course,” Jensen adds.

Jared blushes as he remembers himself. He lifts the pitcher of wine and offers it to the guest in front of him: Samantha Ferris, Jim Beaver’s second in command.

“I believe Jared was born and raised in the Western Reaches,” Jensen continues. “He can assist with our negotiations there.”

Jared’s so excited he almost drops his pitcher. He looks hopefully from Jim Beaver to Jensen and back again, hands shaking, practically bouncing.

Jim Beaver rolls his eyes at him. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Jensen. I guess I can’t say no.”

“Me, neither,” Jared chimes in. “Will I ride on your dragon, my lord?”

Jensen raises an eyebrow, letting his gaze sweep down Jared’s tall frame, back up again.

“You’ve grown so much, not sure you’ll fit,” Jensen admits with a quirky grin. “But we’ll make it work.”

Jared spends the next hours giddy with anticipation. Riding a dragon! With Jensen! It’s almost too much excitement. Jared’s days are usually routine, boring. Then suddenly he’s heading out on an adventure with the man he’s been crushing on for four long years.

It feels too good to be true.

He barely gives a thought to the fact that he’ll be returning to the Western Reaches for the first time in ten years, back to the place he was born and raised in poverty until the day he was sold into servitude to a traveling merchant.

If Jim Beaver hadn’t paid for his contract, Jared might very well be dead by now, worked to the bone on some imperial farm or down in a mine in the Eastern Reaches.

Returning to the Western Reaches isn’t a happy thought. Not by a long shot. It doesn’t surprise him that the Reaches are vulnerable to invasion. Many of its impoverished residents would sell their souls for a good meal or a steady job. Invaders could easily take advantage of the desperate circumstances experienced by the people who live there.

Jensen must understand that expelling invaders from the Reaches would not be welcomed by the locals.

//**//**//

“So tell me about the Western Reaches,” Jensen orders later, when they’re in Jensen’s quarters, fire roaring, whisky and wine on the sideboard. Jared’s just filled Jensen’s bath with clean, heated water.

Jared shakes his head. “Not much to tell,” he confesses as he helps Jensen undress. “Lots of poor, desperate people inland, gangs in the city, a couple of crime lords controlling the shipyards.”

Jensen nods. “How do you think the locals would take to an invasion?”

Jared shrugs. “Depends on whether the invaders bring food and riches with them,” he says as Jensen steps naked into the bath.

Jared keeps his eyes averted, but can’t help appreciating Jensen’s lean, strong body, his bow legs and hairless chest. He has a dusting of freckles across his shoulders. Jared wants to lick them.

“So they can be bribed into helping the invaders,” Jensen notes as he settles back in the tub with a contented sigh, knees bent, head tipped back.

“Definitely,” Jared says.

He gathers a jar of soap, a washcloth, a bowl, and a pitcher of warm water to wash Jensen’s hair. He sets them on the table behind Jensen’s head and directs him to close his eyes as he pours warm water over his hair, into the bowl.

“The entire place is run by gangs,” Jared goes on. “Mark Pellegrino has the town and the shipyards sewn up. Mark Rolston’s gang patrols the City Wall and the Gates. Mark Sheppard controls the countryside outside the City gates. At least, that’s how it was when I left, ten years ago.”

“Ah, yes,” Jensen breathes as Jared rubs soap into his hair. “The Three Marks. Their reputation precedes them.”

Jared says nothing as he massages Jensen’s scalp, rinsing out the dirt and grime. Then he gives the older man a close shave with the foaming soap and a straight-edge razor, keeping his hands steady as he holds Jensen’s jaw, shaves his neck without a nick.

When Jensen sits forward, indicating that Jared should wash his back, Jared tries not to enjoy touching Jensen’s smooth, strong muscles, but it’s a lost cause. He lingers before handing Jensen a clean washcloth so he can wash his own body in the places he can reach without Jared’s help as Jared gathers a towel and sleep clothes.

Jared stands by with a towel as Jensen finishes washing, then steps out of the tub in front of the fire to dry off. Jared gets a last glance at Jensen’s strong thighs and tight abs before he wraps the towel around himself. He uses a corner of the towel to vigorously rub his head, smoothes an approving hand over his clean-shaven cheeks.

“Thank you for that, my friend,” he says to Jared. “I haven’t shaved in weeks.”

“It must be hard to be so long on the road, my lord,” Jared suggests as he holds out the sleep clothes, a soft tunic, and even softer sleep pants. They were woven from the softest cotton in the Southern Kingdom and imported to The Northern Outpost for its most special guests. Jensen had spoken highly of them four years ago, so Jared made sure they were ready and waiting this time.

“Jensen,” Jensen corrects as he reaches for the tunic, refusing the sleep pants with a shake of the head. “You must call me Jensen, just as you did before.”

Jared blushes with the memory of how forward he was, four years ago, when he was still too young to know better.

“My lord - Jensen - you must forgive my youthful transgressions,” Jared says hurriedly. “I was young and had not learned proper behavior.”

Jensen’s mouth slides up into a smirk. He winks.

“And I hope you never do,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind when I say I was looking forward to seeing you, even more than visiting the Outpost. I remember how we hit it off last time I was here. I think we’ll make a good team, going forward.”

A flush of pleasure rushes up Jared’s chest. He can’t stop grinning.

“I - I hope so, my lord - uh, I mean, Jensen,” Jared stammers.

“Now sit with me,” Jensen pours himself and Jared each a glass from the whisky decanter and pats the seat next to him on the couch in front of the fire. “I want you to tell me everything about growing up in the Western Reaches.”

Jared does his best, describing the poverty and desperation of his early years. His mother had been a laundress for the garrison guarding the City Wall and Gates, depending for financial support on one of the gangs that ruled the Reaches. When Jared was small, he scrambled for scraps in the streets with the other children, helped his mother with the laundry when he was older. Jared’s father had done odd jobs. He apprenticed briefly as a cobbler. During those years, the family all had shoes, which wore out after their father lost his position and had to return to mending wagons for a few pennies a day.

Out of the six children born to Jared’s parents, only two grew past their fifth birthdays. Jared and his brother Jake joined a street gang when they were only ten and twelve, respectively, and for a while, it was good. They ate well, wore clothes that had been stolen and provided by the gang leaders. Jared learned to pick-pocket, lock-pick, steal from shops and houses without getting caught.

Until the day their luck ran out and they got caught climbing out of a bakery window, stolen loaves of bread in rucksacks around their necks.

The sentence for thievery was execution, so when a traveling merchant named Misha Collins offered Jared’s jailer a tidy sum to take Jared off his hands, it took a hot minute for Jared to realize he wasn’t going to die after all.

“What about my brother?” Jared asked when they were safely out of town and on the road to the Northern Outpost.

“The master of the Northern Outpost only takes kids,” Collins said, his eyes sweeping down over Jared’s small form, mean and calculating. “The younger the better.”

“It took three weeks to reach the Northern Outpost,” Jared tells Jensen, finishing his story. “Long enough to find out what would happen to me if Jim Beaver didn’t purchase my service contract. But he did, and you know the rest.”

“And you’ve never been back?” Jensen’s gaze is warm, sympathetic.

Jared shakes his head. “I never left the Outpost, once I got here.”

“How do you feel about going back?” Jensen asks. “Maybe to see your family again?”

Jared sighs. “They’re probably all dead by now,” he says. “Ten years is a long time, when you’re living rough like my parents were. And my brother was probably executed the day after I left.”

Jensen takes a deep breath.

“Listen, I’m not going to lie to you, Jared,” he says. “If we face resistance from the invaders, we will fight back. Our dragons are merciless. We are fully prepared to set fire to the ships in the bay, as well as the shipyards, if necessary. Ground troops are already on their way from Saddleford. They’ll meet us late tomorrow on the plain outside the City Gates after we’ve secured the bay.”

Jensen takes a sip of his whisky.

“Depending on what we find, there could be considerable bloodshed,” he finishes.

Jared nods, struggling to tamp down his growing excitement.

“I understand,” he says. “You know I’ve had some combat training. We all have, in case we ever need to defend the Outpost.”

Jensen shakes his head with a small smile. “You’ll be airborne with me the whole time, so that won’t be necessary,” he says. “We’ll be perfectly safe.”

Jared shivers in anticipation of tomorrow’s adventure. He’ll be riding a dragon! With Jensen!

As Jared drains the bathtub and turns down the bed, Jensen brushes his teeth, then digs through scrolls in his knapsack, laying some open on the table. Maps mostly, Jared notes when he glances at them over Jensen’s shoulder. The Outpost library has similar maps, showing the entire star-shaped island country that he knows of as The Kingdom: the Reaches North, South, East, and West, along with the Midland with its rich farmland and villages, its thick forests and fresh-water lakes and rivers.

When he sees Jared looking, Jensen points to the two major rivers of the Midlands.

“There’s the Midland River, that cuts the Kingdom in half North and South,” he says. “And that’s the Central River, that divides it East and West. Dragon Academy sits here, at the fork of the two rivers known as Dan’s Crossing. When we’re done at the Western Reaches, I’ll take you there.”

Jared gasps. “Really?”

Jensen grins. “Yeah. Now let’s get some rest. We need to head out early tomorrow.”

Jared nods. As he turns down the lamps, Jensen slips into bed, settles down with a sigh of satisfaction.

“I forgot how good the beds are here,” he says as he stretches luxuriously between the soft sheets.

Jared smiles, taking more pleasure from Jensen’s comfort than may be strictly necessary. As he kneels down beside the bed to pull the servant pallet out so he can sleep on the floor, Jensen leans over the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “There’s plenty of room on the bed. No need to sleep down there. Come on. Just like before, remember?”

Jared blushes, grateful for the semi-darkness of the fire-lit room. He does remember. He remembers lying awake in bed with Jensen many a night, whispering and touching, making imaginary plans for their future together.

But when Jensen left, so did Jared’s hopes for a future together. All just fantasy, he had told himself. Enjoyable as it may be to dream of a future that Jared and Jensen might share, the reality was that their lives were very different. Their stations in life were incompatible.

Jared was a poor servant and Jensen was a great hero from a good family.

Jared had accepted that reality, after nursing his broken heart for several months after Jensen left. Now, having Jensen here again, those youthful feelings of hope and excitement rekindled, knowing he’ll go with Jensen tomorrow, Jared’s a little overwhelmed.

He doesn’t dare hope, but he can’t help it.

He starts to climb onto the bed next to Jensen, telling himself he can’t say no to the hero who’s basically ordered him to share his bed.

“What are you doing?” Jensen says, and Jared stops short. “You gonna sleep in your clothes?”

Jared backs off the bed, meekly removing his tunic, breeches, and leg wrappings. He leaves his undershirt on, since it reaches down over his thighs and ass. When he turns back to the bed, Jensen’s watching him with fond amusement.

“You really got bigger,” Jensen says admiringly. “Everywhere.”

Jared blushes again as he climbs into the bed, under the covers that Jensen pulls back for him.

“Remember how you used to tell stories?” Jensen asks. “You were really good at it. I never knew how you did it, living where you grew up, then here.”

Jared flushes with pride. “I’ve got a good imagination,” he says. “My mother used to chide me for telling stories. She called them ‘lies’.”

“More like fabrication,” Jensen says. “Where I grew up, storytelling was valued as a great art form.”

“I thought you grew up in Saddleford,” Jared says, frowning.

Jensen shakes his head. “I was born and raised till I was ten in the village of Roan, on the plains north of Saddleford,” he says. “I learned to ride the wild horses there by the time I was six. That’s why I was picked for the Academy.”

Jared’s heard stories about the plains people and their wild horses. Wild and free and dangerous, they keep guard over Saddleford from the North. Finding out that Jensen was raised among them is a revelation.

“You never told me about the day you were selected,” Jared says. “Was it because the Ageless Ones saw you riding the wild horses?”

Jensen smiles. His hand finds Jared’s under the covers. He laces their fingers together as he tells the story.

“One day, not long after my tenth name-day, I was out riding with the other kids along the Northern Road.”

“Is it true that Roan Riders wear only a loin-cloth?” Jared asks.

“Aye, that’s true,” Jensen answers. “We wear our hair long and wild, with only a raven feather or two for decoration and status. Some of us wear leather cords around our necks, ankles, and biceps. Everyone in Roan is brown as a nut from riding outside in the sun all day.”

In his mind’s eye, Jared can see young Jensen, riding free and wild and fast, blondish brown hair streaming out behind him, nearly-naked body smooth and brown.

“The Ageless Ones appeared on the hill near Dan’s Crossing, where the two rivers converge to form an inland lake. They were clearly watching us. Following us.”

“Were you scared?” Jared asks.

Jensen chuckles, squeezes his hand. “Not really. We knew who they were, knew they were out scouting for kids to join their Academy. If anything, we were cocky and overconfident, sure we were better than any of the other kids from the other provinces.”

“And how did the selection go?” Jared asks. “Did they ride down and capture you?”

“Nothing like that,” Jensen says. “They watched for a while, then just disappeared. Later we found out they went to our parents, made offers without even asking us directly. Of course, our parents accepted on our behalf. We couldn’t say no. They took two of us, me and Danneel.”

“And the rest is history,” Jared finishes.

Jensen chuckles. “You could say that.”

He rolls onto his side, toward Jared, still holding his hand, studying him. Jared turns his head to gaze back. His heart beats hard and fast in his chest.

“You’re too big to cuddle now,” Jensen says quietly. “Not little anymore.”

Jared closes his eyes as Jensen’s fingertips brush his cheek. When they linger on his lips, Jared opens his eyes, shivering. His lips part of their own accord.

“You got so beautiful,” Jensen breathes. He lets his fingers trace down over Jared’s chin, his neck. “I never realized you would grow into this. You were like a little brother, all those years ago, but now.”

Before he has time to overthink it, Jared leans up, presses a soft, chaste kiss against Jensen’s lush mouth.

“I’m whatever you need me to be,” he assures Jensen as he pulls back. “I would follow you anywhere, my lord. Jensen.”

“I know you would,” Jensen says softly. “Which is why we’re gonna take this slow, okay?”

“Okay,” Jared agrees, struggling to hide his disappointment. He’s not a virgin, not by a long shot, but the notion of having sex with Jensen makes his whole body come alive. He’s completely smitten. Ready for anything Jensen can give him.

“When we get the work done, then I want to take you somewhere safe and private. Just the two of us. I want to spread you out on a big bed, just like this one, and take my time with you.”

Jensen lays his hand against Jared’s chest, over his heart. His touch is gentle, but firm. He wants Jared to stay there, on his back, on his side of the bed.

“But tomorrow we rise early,” Jensen goes on. “So tonight, we get a good night’s sleep. Understood?”

Jared nods, swallowing his emotions.

“Yes, my lord,” he says hoarsely. “Jensen.”

Jensen nods, squeezing Jared’s hand, and leans down to kiss his cheek.

“Now, go to sleep,” he says. He lets Jared’s hand go so he can turn over onto his side, away from Jared. Within moments, he’s breathing deeply.

Jared lies awake for a long time, listening to Jensen’s even breathing on the bed beside him, filled with longing and desire, grateful to know that their feelings are mutual.

Trying to let it be enough, for now.

//**//**//

The next morning dawns grey and cold. The Northern Outpost is the coldest part of the entire island, and Jared can feel the threat of early snow in the air as he draws water from the well for Jensen’s morning wash.

The riders and their servants gather with Jim Beaver and the other elders in the Other Great Hall for a breakfast of hot porridge, dried fruit, coffee, and cold water. They discuss plans for their approach to the Western Reaches by air, prepared for anything they might encounter when they dive below the clouds over the bay.

After breakfast, Jared packs Jensen’s rucksack and hands it to him.

“You’ll need this,” Jensen tells Jared as he removes a long wool cloak from the bag. “It’s cold, up above the clouds.”

Jared’s already dressed in his warmest clothes, including gloves that were a winter holiday gift from Jim Beaver last winter. He takes the cloak, flings it across his shoulders, and pulls the fur-lined hood up around his face. The cape barely falls to his shins, but he can feel its warmth.

As they take their leave of Jim Beaver and the other Elders, Jared finds himself engulfed in the old man’s gruff embrace.

“Take care of yourself, boy,” Jim says. “Do what Lord Jensen tells you.”

“Yes, sir,” Jared agrees. “I will, sir.”

The Outpost guard accompanies the riders and Jared out the front door of the Central Keep and onto the Wall. They’ll stay with them for the long walk down the stairs, through the front gate, and across the moat to the plain beyond, where the riders will summon their dragons.

Outside on the Wall, the air is bracing. Jared shivers as he trots to keep up with the dragon riders’ long strides. He pulls his cloak close around him. The wind whistles and moans, making conversation nearly impossible, and Jared wonders how the dragons will be able to answer the riders’ calls.

He needn’t have worried. When they’re finally free of the long path from the keep and are out on the plain beyond, the dragons are already waiting for them. Jared stares in wonder as the guard turns back to retrace their steps across the moat toward the Outpost wall. Jensen grabs his hand, pulling him close as they approach the largest and most dangerous-looking animals Jared has ever seen. No pictures in a book or tapestry weavings could have prepared Jared for the sheer size of the creatures, their fierce wildness and otherness.

“This is El,” Jensen shouts in his ear, breath so hot it makes Jared start.

The nearest dragon puts her head down in their direction, and now Jared can see a leather saddle nestled among the scales on her back. El lowers her great body to the ground in invitation, slowly blinking her huge cat-like eyes. She folds her gigantic wings and tucks her spiked tail around her so that she resembles a giant cat curling up for a nap.

“I’ll climb on first,” Jensen says in Jared’s ear. “Then you climb on behind me.”

He squeezes Jared’s hand before letting it go. Jared watches, trembling in fear and anticipation as Jensen reaches up, grabs the saddle, and swings himself aboard. When he turns back to reach down for Jared, Jared hesitates. Will El allow him, a complete stranger, to ride her? Even as a passenger? How is Jensen able to control this terrifying beast? There are no reigns, not even a halter.

“It’s alright,” Jensen shouts. “Come on!”

Jared takes a deep breath and reaches for Jensen’s hand. He finds a foothold on one of El’s scales and swings himself up behind Jensen, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s waist as soon as he’s securely seated.

“Hold on!” Jensen shouts unnecessarily.

Beneath them, the great beast moves fluidly, rising to her clawed feet, raising her head and stretching out her neck. Her great wings unfurl on either side of her body, as least as wide as ten men laid end to end. Jared feels every movement, clinging to Jensen as the dragon starts to trot, then all-out run down the plain, wings flapping as she gathers take-off speed and lifts.

Winds whips Jared’s face, making his eyes sting so that he has to close them, burying his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck. As the dragon takes to the air, the movement beneath them changes, becomes smoother, less choppy. Jared’s stomach drops out as they rise toward the clouds. The dragon’s wings flap rhythmically as she climbs, then soars smoothly as she breaks through the clouds.

The air is thin and cold up here, but less windy. Jared keeps his face pressed into Jensen’s shoulder and relaxes to the rhythmic rocking motion of El’s wings, watching the shifting clouds and light on the horizon as they fly southwest until his eyelids droop and he falls into a doze.

A couple of hours later, Jared startles awake. El’s starting her descent, damp clouds lashing at them as they fly through them.

“We’re just going down to take a look around,” Jensen yells over his shoulder.

For the first time, Jared wonders how Jensen communicates with the other dragon riders. They fly in tandem, Jensen slightly out front with the other two flanking his left and right. Glancing over his shoulder at each of the other dragons and their riders, Jared sees the dragons moving in perfect formation, some silent agreement between them, like a flock of migrating birds.

Jared had heard that dragon riders communicate telepathically with their dragons, but it had never occurred to him that they might have telepathic links with other riders, as well. It makes him weirdly jealous.

He doesn’t have long to think about it, though. Suddenly, they’re through the clouds, the bay of the Western Reaches laid out below them. It’s full of strange ships, each flying a flag Jared doesn’t recognize. The sailors on the ships see them right away, as if they’ve been looking out for them.

Jared can’t hear their shouted commands, but he feels the air around him shift and sizzle as flaming arrows shoot past them, followed by the boom of cannon fire.

“Hold on!” Jensen shouts as El dodges cannon balls and arrows, dipping suddenly one way, then the other.

When she suddenly gathers her wings for a dive, at first Jared doesn’t understand what’s happening. Shouldn’t they be retreating? Don’t they want to avoid getting shot?

Then El opens her mouth and flames pour out toward the ships below. Jared feels the rumble of the fire as it roars out of El’s body. He hears the cries of the men on the ships as they catch fire. Jared buries his face in Jensen’s neck, closing his eyes against the sight of burning bodies, wishing he could cover his ears to block out the sounds of their anguished cries. He catches a glimpse of the other dragons swooping down to breathe fire onto the invading ships as well. The air is full of smoke. He feels the heat of the fire as El dives close, then pulls up again, only to repeat her dives over and over again. Jared lifts his head when they near land, notes that the docks and shipyards are burning, too.

Jared knew men who worked on the docks. Sometimes he and his brother would gather discarded shells to try to sell in the marketplace. Once in a while, a fisherman would give them some fish heads to take home to their mother for dinner.

Jared squeezes his eyes shut against the horrors unfolding below him. He buries burrows into Jensen’s neck and holds on tight as finally El swoops up and away from the docks, the bay with its burning ships. Jared opens his eyes as they cross the city walls. He watches people running away below them, screaming. He holds his breath, imagining El sending them to their fiery deaths. But El keeps flying, over the city towards the East, over the Eastern Wall to the Village, then the farmland beyond.

When they reach the plain beyond the farms, El lands gracefully, the other two dragons and their riders not far behind. She leans her neck down, crouching in the position she took when they first boarded.

“Off,” Jensen says, and Jared obeys, taking Jensen’s offered hand to help him slide down the dragon’s side to the soft grass below.

As soon as Jensen and the other riders join him, the dragons take to the sky, flying due north to their caves in the mountains to await their next assignment. Jared watches them until they’re just specks on the horizon, barely listening to the conversation going on around him.

“Jared?” Jensen’s concerned voice jolts him back to reality. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jared assures him, although he’s anything but. He’s shaking, despite the warmer air here on the Western plains.

“Hey.” Jensen puts a hand on his shoulder, leaves it there until Jared lifts his eyes and nods. “That wasn’t easy, I know. It’s always a shock, the first time.”

Jared bites his bottom lip. He feels small, scraped out, and hollow.

“Do you feel up to joining us for the peace talks?” Jensen asks gently.

“Peace talks?”

Jensen nods. “The Marks were behind the invasion,” he says. “They invited the invaders in the first place.”

Jared frowns, confused. “How do you know?”

“We have spies,” Danneel says. “Merchants who travel through the Reaches on a regular basis, keeping an eye on what’s going on there.”

“We suspected the invasion was bogus,” Christian adds. “But we had to see for ourselves before we took action.”

“But how can you be sure?” Jared asks. “The ships firing on us were part of the invasion, right?”

“There was cannon fire from the City Walls, Jared,” Jensen says patiently. “You didn’t notice in the chaos of the attack, but the City Garrison was firing on us, too. They were working together with the invaders.”

“Their flag is familiar to us,” Danneel adds. “They’re from the Western Shoals, the string of islands about twenty miles offshore. And this wasn’t the first time. The Shoals want the entire Kingdom, not just the Western Reaches. The Three Marks have promised to help pave the way for them if the Shoals can provide the manpower. And the weapons.”

Jared frowns. “The Marks are mercenary, but they’re not stupid,” he says. “They might take money from the Shoals, but they don’t have political ambitions. They want to keep the power they have.”

Jensen nods. “Right. And what better way to keep their little fiefdoms than to aid and abet the Shoals with their inland invasion?”

“Yep,” Christian says. “The Marks provide inland access, horses, and wagons, and in return the Shoals let the Marks stay right where they are.”

“Perfect plan,” Danneel says.

“Well, not anymore,” Jensen reminds them wryly. “Now come on. We’re wanted at the negotiating table.”

They’ve been walking as they talked, and now Jared can see a tent, just over the next rise. Beyond the tent, an entire encampment lies spread out across the plain, populated by small tents and cooking fires. Supply wagons dot the periphery of the camp, along with temporary enclosures for horses and goats.

Jared wonders how long the soldiers have been here.

“Troops started heading north from Saddleford about a week ago,” Jensen says, as if he’s reading Jared’s mind. “It took them five days to get here.”

Jared frowns. “So you knew the Shoals ships were already in the City bay?”

“Dragon-riding provides excellent surveillance,” Jensen says. “We’ve been keeping an eye on the Shoals for a while now. This isn’t exactly the first time they’ve launched an ‘invasion.’”

He air-quotes the word invasion, just in case Jared didn’t catch his meaning. Jared thinks back to his days as a boy in the Western Reaches, exploring the docks with his brother, looking for any little scrap that they could eat or sell. There were often merchant ships in the bay, but Jared can’t recall ever seeing so many flying the same flag. He thinks he would remember if he’d seen it before. The sea serpent crest is distinctive, the oceanic version of a dragon.

“Are sea serpents real?” he wonders aloud.

Jensen chuckles. “If they are, I haven’t seen one,” he admits. “But I wouldn’t rule it out. There was a time when no one here believed in dragons, and look how that turned out?”

As they approach the tent, a contingent of riders arrive from the West. Jared recognizes Mark Pellegrino and Mark Sheppard, both older and harder-looking than he remembers. A young lieutenant rides with them, someone who looks eerily familiar.

The young man looks startled to see him, too.

“Jared?”

“Jake!” Jared breathes. Even ten years older, his brother is unmistakable.

“Aw, how touching,” Mark Pellegrino coos sarcastically. “A family reunion.” His eyes narrow as he recognizes the three dragon riders. “And concubine to a dragon rider, no less. How little brothers grow up.”

“Where is Mark Rolston?”

The voice is that of Queen Alaina herself, known throughout the land as much for her wise and no-nonsense ruling style as for her fiery red hair.

Jared and the dragon riders bow to her as she strides out of the tent, knights at either hand.

“Your majesty,” Mark Pellegrino sneers. “You honor us.”

“Shut up and get your asses in here,” she snaps at him. “And answer my question!”

“Alas, our beloved Mark Rolston is no more,” Mark Sheppard says with fake sadness as he climbs down off his horse. “He was in the shipyards when they were torched by your dragons.”

“The dragons are not mine,” the queen says. “And I’m sure any torching they did was in self-defense.”

She guides the way into her tent, taking her place behind a low round table which does nothing to diminish her natural authority. Jared, the dragon riders, the two Marks, and Jake all process inside the tent after her, spreading out around the table so that all of them have equal space, although Jared and Jake hang back and remain standing.

Queen Alaina raises her chin at the Marks. “So, another invasion attempt foiled,” she says, her voice dripping with irony. “And I suppose the spoils will be split between the two of you, now that there are only two of you.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Mark Sheppard says with a placating smile. “The shipyards were in need of new management anyway. Mark and I see this as an opportunity.”

“I’m sure you do,” the queen says. “So be it. Going forward, I expect better patrolling of the harbor. No need to encourage any more unwelcome sea traffic, invaders or not.”

Mark Sheppard nods. “Of course.”

“And I expect that living conditions in the City and the farmland outside the City gates will improve,” the queen goes on. “I receive far too many reports of looting and other unsavory activity both inside and outside the City walls.”

“Maybe if you didn’t send so many spies, you wouldn’t hear so many lies,” Mark Pellegrino says.

Queen Alaina smiles. “You missed your calling, Mark. Ever think about giving up a life of crime to become a traveling bard?”

“Every day,” Mark Pellegrino says. “But unfortunately I am too important in my hard job of keeping the peace in the Western Reaches. You need me.”

Queen Alaina’s eyes narrow. “Careful now,” she warns. “Never forget how easily replaced you could be. Both of you. And if you ever doubt that, I encourage you to take a tour of my garrison.”

She spreads her arms out to indicate the troops camped on the plain behind them, an unmistakable show of force that neither Mark can possibly deny or resist. The threat is implicit. Obviously, neither Mark is prepared to argue.

“That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty,” Mark Sheppard assures her. “I’m sure the good queen will take my word for it when I say we have it all under control.”

Mark Pellegrino rolls his eyes but says nothing.

“Very well. I believe we’re done here unless you gentlemen have other business to bring before me?” The queen gestures dismissively, obviously intending their meeting to be over.

Much to Jared’s surprise, Jake speaks up for the first time.

“If it please your majesty, I would like to speak to my brother before we go,” Jake says. “It has been ten years since we’ve seen each other. I’m sure I speak for him when I say, we thought the other one was dead.”

The queen glares at Jake, clearly annoyed. Then her eyes flick to Jared, lingering appreciatively.

“Whatever,” she says, flinging the tips of her fingers in their direction. “Be quick about it.”

Jake gestures with his chin for Jared to follow him out of the tent. Jared glances at Jensen, who gives a small nod of permission, then lets Jake lead him outside and out of earshot.

Jared’s eyes smart with tears as Jake pulls him in for a tight embrace.

“Thought you were dead,” Jake whispers before releasing Jared.

Jared nods. “So did I. Think you were dead, I mean.”

Jake smiles. He holds Jared at arm's length, looking him up and down.

“You got big, little brother,” he notes.

Jared laughs, a choked sound rising up out of his chest.

“Mother and father?”

Jake takes his hands away, shifts his feet, looking away.

“Oh, they’re fine,” he assures his brother. “More than fine, actually. Since I got this job, they’ve been living in luxury. Lazy, carefree luxury.”

“I’d like to see them!” Jared gushes, overcome with emotion and nostalgia.

Jake shakes his head. “Not sure they’d want to see you,” he says. “What you’ve become, I mean. Paramour to a dragon-rider.”

Jared frowns and shakes his head. “I’m not. No.”

Jake gives him a skeptical look. “Maybe not yet, but the way he looks at you? The way you look at him? There’s sex in your future, little brother, believe me.”

Jared blushes. He can’t deny that he hopes for what Jake’s implying. He just wishes it didn’t sound so dirty. So wrong.

“Well, what about you?” Jared says. “Whose dick are you sucking? Mark’s? Or Mark’s?”

Jake flushes, but he doesn’t deny it.

Oh. Jared thinks. Both, maybe.

“Hey, I earned my place,” Jake insists. “Rescued from certain execution, just like you. Gainfully recruited into the Tower garrison, promoted through the ranks to second lieutenant. Personal bodyguard to all the Marks, when they needed it. Now, it’s just the two, of course.”

Jared catches sight of Jensen out of the corner of his eye, heading his way.

“I should go,” Jared says, reaching for another hug.

As he pulls Jared against him, Jake murmurs, “Take care of yourself, little brother.”

“You, too,” Jared breathes. “Until our paths cross again.”

“Hopefully never,” Jake says as he releases Jared. “The Reaches is no place for a dragon rider or his lover. And if something like this happens again, it’ll probably be the end of at least one of us. So let’s hope it doesn’t.”

Jared nods. His head spins with all he’s seen today. He wants to be alone with Jensen, to listen to Jensen’s deep voice reassuring him that everything’s okay.

He and Jensen stand together, flanked by the other dragon riders, as the two Marks and Jake ride back toward the Western Reaches. Jared understands that a show of real power has happened here today, but he’s not at all sure it’s for the best. He’s fairly convinced that the cycle of poverty and desperation will continue in the Reaches, exploited by the Marks for their own petty and corrupt benefit. Queen Alaina’s interests are less than noble. Keeping the peace and holding onto the Reaches is more valuable to her than justice. Any real change for the people of the Reaches isn’t her concern.

“Your brother is doing well for himself,” Jensen says with only a hint of irony. “You must be happy for him.”

“He thinks I’m your whore,” Jared says, barely managing to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

“You are my personal servant,” Jensen corrects. “We all serve someone, Jared.”

Jared nods. “I know.”

Jensen puts a hand on Jared’s back, steering him back into the tent.

“I know you have questions, Jared,” Jensen says. “We will talk soon. But for now, we must pay homage to our queen.”

Jared’s not sure that homage is deserved, but he says nothing. Under the tent, a victory feast has been prepared. He joins the other servants in serving the queen and her entourage, as well as the three dragon riders. He’s grateful that the other servants treat him with kindness, even deference. No one sneers. No one disrespects him for being Jensen’s “personal servant,” and after a few minutes he relaxes, letting the shock and trauma of the day fade away.

For now.

//**//**//

Later, in one of the guest tents provided for each of the dragon riders, Jensen pulls Jared down on the soft pallet on the floor and kisses him. Passionately. Thoroughly. All of Jared’s bones turn to mush as Jensen’s hands roam over his body, slide into his hair. When he comes up for air with a gasp, Jensen kisses down his neck, back up over his jaw to his ear.

“So beautiful,” Jensen murmurs. “Wanna see you.”

His teeth nip at Jared's earlobe, then he pulls back, removing his clothes along with Jared’s until they’re both naked. Jensen lays Jared out on the bed, touching him, looking at him with so much desire and appreciation it makes Jared blush.

“Don’t,” Jared protests, squirming under Jensen’s intense gaze.

“You were a boy when I met you,” Jensen says. “Now look at you.”

Jared shakes his head, closes his eyes.

But Jensen doesn’t stop. He kisses down Jared’s body with a reverence that Jared doesn’t deserve. He makes Jared feel cherished. Prized. When he takes their cocks in his hand and begins to work them together, he kisses Jared’s lips, swallows Jared’s moans.

It’s been too long, and it’s Jensen. Jared comes hard and fast and far too soon, mewling uncontrollably as Jensen follows him over the edge. Jared passes out immediately afterward and is only vaguely aware of Jensen cleaning them up and tucking them into bed.

He wakes up in the night because Jensen’s grinding against his backside. When he feels Jared grind back, Jensen slips his fingers down between Jared’s ass cheeks until he finds his hole. Jared bears down, whines when the tip of Jensen’s finger breaches him.

“Please, Jensen,” Jared breathes. “Please fuck me.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” Jensen murmurs into his ear. “Just give me a sec.”

Jared whines as Jensen’s hand retreats, followed by his entire body. Jared turns over onto his back, watches as Jensen retrieves a jar of lubricant, returning to the bed with it as Jared spreads his legs, making room for Jensen between them.

“Like this?” Jensen asks. “You sure?”

Jared nods. “Wanna see you.”

Jensen takes his time opening Jared up, pushes inside his body slowly, giving Jared time to adjust.

“Touch yourself,” Jensen directs.

Jared does, getting a rhythm going that matches Jensen’s careful, shallow slides. Jared whines, wrapping his legs around Jensen’s waist, tipping his body up at just the right angle so that Jensen hits his sweet spot. He gazes up at Jensen’s face, at his expression of concentration, throws his head back with a choked cry as Jensen hits his prostate again and again. It takes longer to get there this time, both men taking their time and drawing it out as long as possible before finally giving in to the inevitable climax.

Jared feels Jensen’s dick throb as he starts to come. He watches Jensen’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw flex. Jared reaches up, curls his free hand around the back of Jensen’s head, and his face down so he can kiss him as he comes, as Jared rides the crest of his own orgasm with his mouth pressed to Jensen’s stubbled cheek.

Jensen collapses on top of him afterward and Jared holds him, stroking his sweaty back with the tips of his fingers. After a couple of minutes, Jensen shivers and rolls onto his side, hissing as his limp dick slips free of Jared’s body. He keeps his head on Jared’s shoulder, his arm over Jared’s chest, one leg tangled with both of Jared’s. As he presses a kiss to Jared’s right pec, Jared smiles.

“What now?” he asks softly.

“Now, we sleep again,” Jensen says.

Jared chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

Jensen nods, lets his thumb rub back and forth across Jared’s nipple for a moment.

“I want you to stay with me,” Jensen says. “Will you do that?”

“You know I want to,” Jared answers honestly.

Jensen pulls away, half sits up, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down into Jared’s face.

“It’s settled then,” he says. “I’ll send word to Jim Beaver that I’m keeping you.”

“As your personal servant,” Jared says.

“Nobody gives as close a shave as you do,” Jensen says with a grin. “And now that I can get one every day, there’s no way in hell I’d give that up.”

“And you’ll take me with you when you travel? On your dragon, too?”

Jensen chuckles. “El already loves you,” he says. “I couldn’t deprive her of your company if I wanted to.”

“Is that true?” Jared asks. “I mean, you can read her mind, right? That’s how it works?”

Jensen shrugs. “Something like that. Dragons aren’t exactly big on verbal communication. Her thoughts are more like impressions.”

“And she understands you,” Jared says. “When you summon her, she comes to you?”

“Sometimes,” Jensen says. “Usually.”

“And you tell her where you want to go? Telepathically?”

“More or less,” Jensen says with another shrug. “We’re bonded. She trusts me.”

Jared shakes his head. “I can’t imagine what that must be like,” he says in wonder.

Jensen smiles. “Yes, you can. You have a wonderful imagination. You’re very sensitive, Jared. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have some magic in you, too.”

“Magic? Me?” Jared’s eyes widen.

“The Ageless Ones brought magic to this country,” Jensen says. “It’s part of how we riders communicate with our dragons. It’s not just skill. There’s magic in it, too, just like the magic I sense in you.”

Jared’s mind flashes back to the burning docks, the screaming sailors and dock workers. The corrupt Marks and cynical Queen Alaina. Jake and his greedy parents.

“Seems like this country needs a lot more than magic to fix its problems,” he notes.

“Or maybe it needs more magic,” Jensen says with a shrug. “More people who can reach inside themselves and discover the magic that’s been there all along.”

Jared sighs. “There’s nothing magical about the Marks,” he says bitterly. “Those guys are trolls. Literally.”

“No disagreement there,” Jensen says, then he grins. “I can’t wait to introduce you to Jeffrey Dean. He’s gonna love you.”

Jared blushes, embarrassed. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Jensen says. “You’re just the kind of lost soul he loves to take under his wing. There’s a purity about you, Jared. Something untouched, despite all you’ve seen and lived through. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes one look at you and decides to tutor you himself.”

Jared huffs out a surprised laugh. “No way!”

“Oh for sure,” Jensen insists. “You’re special, sweet boy. You’ll go on to do great things one day if you set your mind to it. I’m sure of it.”

Jared stares at him, uncomprehending. He’s not sure if Jensen’s joking or not.

“I’m just a poor serving boy from the Western Reaches,” Jared says. “I’m just lucky Jim Beaver bought my contract and took me on to work for him. I’m lucky you picked me to come with you. Luckier still that you want to keep me.”

Jensen reaches over, tucks Jared’s hair behind his ear.

“I’m the lucky one, Jared,” he says softly. “I’m the grateful one here.”

He leans down, kisses Jared slow and sweet.

“Now sleep, beautiful boy,” he says. “In the morning, we’re off to the Academy. Your future awaits.”

He gets up to grab a wet cloth to clean them off, then drags the blankets up over himself and Jared, pulling Jared’s arm over his waist, up behind him so that Jared’s the big spoon this time.

It takes Jared a few minutes to fall asleep. He ponders Jensen’s words, wonders about the Ageless Ones and the Dragon Academy, dares to imagine living and learning there, with Jensen at his side.

Could he really make a difference in the world? Could he be destined for more than just serving wine and mopping floors? Could he really have some magic hidden inside of him, waiting for the right moment or the right trigger to make it manifest?

It’s all too much to think about, he decides. Better to take each moment as it comes, as he’s always done. Better to be grateful for the life he’s lived so far, for the people he’s met.

Best to be grateful for whatever it is that Jensen sees in him.

Tomorrow, adventure awaits. But tonight, with Jensen in his arms, he’s just grateful to be alive.



fin