Chapter 68 - Reaching Out
After the confrontation with Viggo, White Wing remains in the room he and Wind in the Grass have been occupying, consulting his spirit guides and trying to read his dreams.
Back to Chapter 67
There’s a place I go
When I’m alone
Do anything I want
Be anyone I wanna be
But it is us I see
And I cannot believe I’m fallin'
That’s where I’m goin'
Where are you goin'
Hold it close won’t let this go
Dream, catch me, yeah
Dream, catch me when I fall
Or else I won’t come back at all
'Dream Catch Me' Newton Faulkner
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKww_Avjkzo
After the 'meeting' with Far Rider, White Wing had managed to hold back his pain long enough to accompany Wind in the Grass to the kitchen for food, although his own appetite had diminished somewhat since the frustrating conversation. Cook was kind, and had clearly noted his anguish, although he'd tried to shield it. In the end he was grateful as she quietly offered to have the meals for the rest of the day sent up to the room for him and Wind. Accepting with alacrity, White Wing couldn't wait to escape the inquisitive eyes of the people present. As soon as Wind appeared to be done, White Wing dragged the protesting brave from the room and practically ran up the stairs as if Coyote himself was after them.
He hadn't budged from the room since, having no need since they had a room to pass water and clean themselves, and food was being delivered. That night he had slept uneasily, but Wind had been attentive and distracting with soft words and gentle caresses, eventually making White Wing soar as if the whole thing had been part of his imagination. But afterwards, he'd had to cling to Wind, sobbing into his neck, and eventually, with Wind's gentle voice soothing him, he'd fallen asleep again at last.
Too agitated to consider meditating yesterday, this morning White Wing had woken more clear-headed about what he needed to do to find a solution to the problems he and Wind were facing, although there was still a certain amount of pain-both physical and mental-in his movements.
"Wind," he whispered on waking, leaning up over his friend and smiling with difficulty into bleary eyes as they blinked up at him, "I have tobacco, sweet grass and sage. Do you have any cedar? I need balance. Will you help me?"
"Of course," Wind in the Grass responded readily, his voice gruff.
After the wave of grief had engulfed White Wing, with tears in his own eyes, Wind spent most of the night singing to his friend. He sang songs that honored Swift Arrow's life, his bravery, his love for his people, his family, his wife. Only when exhaustion overtook grief and White Wing had cried himself to sleep did Wind in the Grass let the last phrases flow quietly out into the night.
Wind in the Grass cupped White Wing's cheek, his thumb tracing softly over the puffy redness beneath Wing's eyes. "I have a few pieces of bark in my pack as well as some smudge sticks given me by Dark Owl."
"Good," White Wing nodded, but did not move away from Wind's gentle touch yet. "Thank you."
His smile wavering a little, White Wing hoped Wind understood the thank you was about more than today's help. He nodded again and kissed the hand touching him, then moved away; climbing out of the bed and walking into the other room to pass water.
When he returned, he dressed quickly and began to sort through his medicine pouch for the things he needed.
Remaining on the bed until White Wing returned, Wind in the Grass watched for a few minutes while his friend assembled his supplies. He'd spent the prior day within these two rooms so he would be a constant for White Wing to lean on after the frustrating encounter with Far Rider and the Pale One... Shawn-been... White Wing had corrected him at one point. The confinement, though, was becoming unnerving.
The young brave rose at last to dig through his pack for the package of smudge sticks and his few strips of cedar bark. The search for more cedar would be a good excuse for him to escape out of doors, for at least a little while. He dressed swiftly in breechclout and leggings, a braid sliding over his shoulder as he laced on his moccasins. He felt more himself after White Wing did his braids the evening before, and more so now attired in what was most comfortable.
Automatically Wind in the Grass smoothed a hand over White Wing's head as he set down the cedar and package. "I will search for more. Is there anything else you wish me to look for?"
White Wing looked up from what he was doing, fingering his medicine wheel carefully. He shook his head briefly, and then tried for another smile. "Don't go too far. Be back soon; I need you here. It will be stronger with two of us."
He could not say he worried for Wind in the Grass in the white man's world, even though he had none of their language. It was his own selfish need to keep Wind close that made him hold his friend back.
White Wing knew that Wind must be finding the room as stifling as he did himself; more so, in fact. He could not begrudge the brave a short time in the open air, though he could not make himself accompany Wind. Fear of meeting Far Rider nearby was too uppermost in his mind.
"I won't be long," Wind in the Grass leaned further down to kiss White Wing's upturned face. "Will even stay within the hedges fencing in this square lodge," Wind couldn't keep the slight sneer out of his voice. He kissed the tip of Wing's nose then made his way out of the room and down the nearby stairs.
Wind in the Grass slipped quickly through the kitchen, which was thankfully empty at the moment. Once out in the cultivated area outside, he stood for a few moments breathing deeply.
Once Wind left him, White Wing contemplated his supplies, including what Wind had given him. It should be enough for the ritual he wanted to perform.
Spinning his medicine wheel lightly in his hand as he closed his eyes, White Wing opened them again and stopped the wheel. Looking about the room, he decided the best place to lay things was on the floor at the end of the bed. He placed the wheel there, turning it until he was satisfied that the sides of it faced the correct directions.
Chanting lightly under his breath, he place a few leaves of tobacco at the east point. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and spoke the words of an ancient rhyme that the tribe's medicine man had taught him.
Repeating the action at the south point, he placed the cedar bark there. Following this, he did the same at the west point with the sage and at the north point with the sweet grass.
Shuffling backward on his knees, White Wing spread his hands and turned his face upward, calling his spirit guides in soft tones. Once he felt the warmth of the animal guides for each compass point fill his vision, he slowly lowered to his backside and adjusted his legs comfortably underneath himself.
He would wait now for Wind to return and take a place opposite him. Then they could chant more of the special words as they lit the herbs and asked for help from the spirits.
For now, he could see if they offered him any visions before his friend returned to offer his aid to the ritual.
The air was moist and along with dirty smells that reminded Wind in the Grass of the Iron Horse that brought them here, he could distinguish salt and fish smells. He stretched his arms over his head as he stepped down onto the closely shorn grass, glad to be out of the square lodge.
The small variety of trees was not any that had leaves or pods or anything Wind in the Grass knew as usable. He did find sagebrush, though it seemed more bitter than white sage.
One area proved quite a find. Not only was there a semi-hidden area Wind in the Grass could use to meditate. In front of that herbs and edible roots and more were planted in small straight rows. Wind helped himself to a number of herbs, wandering carefully amongst the plant mounds as he filled the small pack fastened at his waist.
Warmth surrounded Orli, and in his dream, he was backing into Sean's heated body, a firmness at his backside sending delightful shivers through him and making him squirm pleasantly.
"Mmm, that for me?" he mumbled sleepily, not opening his eyes as he became aware that this was something more than a dream.
The deep voice answering him in less than real words had a different accent and timbre from his expectations, and Orli's eyes flew open wide as he remembered how he hadn't seen Sean since near the end of the party two nights before. Sean had been called away for some crisis of Viggo's, and had apparently been too busy to see Orli since then. Orli had felt put in his place by this; he was, after all, simply another one of Sean Bean's whores, nothing more. Orli had stayed with Warrick on the night of the party, forgetting all about Sean with some very delicious help from his friend.
The next day though, Orli had still not caught a single glimpse of Sean, and eventually, he'd given up waiting around downstairs, and retired to his and Boone's room to fret alone. He still wasn't allowed to work to take his mind off things; Marton was insisting he kept well away from clients until the time came for his big 'show'.
And later, when he'd managed to get himself worked up enough, he'd got into a verbal slanging match with Boone over the state of their room-Orli had been trying on dresses and had clothing slung everywhere by the time Boone had finished work for the night-so that Ian had stormed out, looking pinched and angry, stating he was sleeping with Craig and Greg, and that Orli could go fuck himself.
Orli had broken down in tears as the door slammed, collapsing amidst flounces and frills, convinced that Sean would never seek him out again. A tentative knock at the door had revealed Warrick upon Orli's cautious 'come in', and he'd allowed his friend to wrap him in comforting arms while he let his fears out.
Sensible as ever, Warrick had assured Orli that his patron was simply attending to something that needed urgent resolution and had nothing to do with Sean's feelings for Orli. Viggo had apparently been graced with visitors from afar and their future was being sorted with aid from Sean; or at least that was what Warrick had heard, and Sean himself had told Warrick the night before that he would make it up to Orli as soon as he was able.
Warrick had been more than comforting once they'd tidied up the room together, and the pleasant ache deep inside Orli now was a wonderful reminder of the form most of that comfort had taken.
Warrick curled closer into him and mumbled again, clearly not properly conscious yet, despite the erection lined up against Orli's bottom. However, Orli was wide awake, and although it was tempting to roll over and help the rest of his friend stir as much as his cock already had, the blue of the sky shining outside the dormer window drew him up. Carefully disentangling himself from Warrick's grasp, Orli smiled indulgently down at him as he pushed out of bed and reached for his robe.
Orli wrapped the soft cloth around his shoulders, and padded quietly to the window to open it, and softly breathed in the morning air. After the other night's close and often smoky party atmosphere, and most of yesterday spent closeted in this room, it was a relief to feel a fresh breeze against his skin. Orli gazed across the houses, glad to be alive and here in America, despite his disappointment and fears at being denied time with Sean.
A movement from the garden below caught Orli's eye, and as he looked downward, his heart skipped slightly at the sight which greeted him.
"Warrick!" Orli exclaimed breathlessly, unable to contain himself. He wasn't sure whether to be excited or frightened, but he knew he had to do something.
Something he'd only previously seen in pictures and read stories of... there was a real live Indian in the garden.
Alerted first by the scraping of wood on wood, Wind in the Grass pinpointed the opened window by the time the voice called out. Keeping an eye on the figure on the upper floor, Wind in the Grass continued picking through the plants. He would finger, smell, taste some, pick some and move on.
It was losing the soft, warm cradle of Orli's bottom cushioning his morning erection that brought Warrick to full wakefulness. When Orli left the bed, he finally opened his eyes and smiled as his friend took in the morning.
The outcry brought him out of the bed and over to Orli's side in an instant.
"What is it mi niñito?" Warrick came up close to Orli's back and looked where the boy was pointing. "Ah." A smile spread on Warrick's face as he caught sight of the half-clad figure below. "I told you, your Sean was helping Mr. Viggo with some visitors." Chuckling, he nuzzled through the curls at Orli's nape.
"Viggo?" Orli blinked back at Warrick, astounded, and then shivered when the man nuzzled into him as he turned back to study the Indian brave again. "There's more than one?" he asked, admiring the smooth muscles on the man's upper body as he moved in among the garden plants.
Unable to stop watching the brave, Orli drew Warrick's large hands around himself like an extra cover, and wiggled comfortably back into his chest.
"He's very... handsome, I suppose. So what does Viggo have to do with Indians?"
"He is very comely," Warrick chuckled, encircling Orli's waist and pulling him even closer. Peering easily over Orli's shoulder, Warrick watched the young man explore the herb and vegetable patch.
Though he didn't think this was the one who knew some English, Warrick spoke softly, using that as an excuse to further nuzzle through Orli's soft curls. "This one and his... companion are from Viggo's clan, I think the proper term is," Warrick stated diplomatically.
Below them, Wind in the Grass took another surreptitious glance up. Another man had joined the first figure. This was a different dark-skinned man from the one the previous day, and brought to mind the discussions about the diversity within this square lodge. Wind frowned as he studied the smaller boy, girl; he wasn't sure. Then White Wing's words from the night of their arrival came to him: a white Winkte! He let his gaze linger and even curved his lips into a small smile.
"Clan?" Orli asked, wrinkling his brow, "Viggo has an Indian clan?" He bit his lip as the Indian looked up at them. Was he smiling at them?
"We have to go down there, Warrick. I want to see him properly, and he seems friendly." He gave the Indian a little smile of his own and then ducked under Warrick's arms, pulling his gown around himself more closely and tightening the belt as he found his slippers and headed for the door.
"Put some clothes on, though," he threw back at Warrick, "I don't know if he'd be pleased to see you with that." Orli waggled his eyebrows and grinned as he gestured towards Warrick's still semi-firm cock.
"Hurry! I'm going down there now; you can catch up!"
And with that, he was out the door and tripping down the steps. Being cooped up in a room wasn't Orli's natural habitat at all, and this was the perfect excuse to be outside. He completely forgot to be worried he could run into Sean on his way through the house. Instead, he thought about what the Indian's 'companion' might be like; whether it was a woman or a man, and what they were visiting Viggo about.
"Damned imp," Warrick chuckled fondly as he moved to comply with Orli's wishes. After digging through the discarded clothing from the night before, he drew on the pair of loose silk trousers loaned from Marton and shucked into the thin white shirt he'd worn. Not bothering with buttons or finding shoes, Warrick plowed out the door and downstairs after his excitable young friend. Hopefully he'd arrive before Orli chattered the poor brave's ear off.
Luckily, the kitchen wasn't busy, and Cook barely had time to do more than suggest something for Orli to eat before he was past her with a 'Later, please,' tossed back in her direction. Once out the back door, he ran quickly through the garden until he reached the area where he'd seen the Indian.
Oh!
Coming to a complete stop a few feet away from the most gorgeous, warm brownish-red-skinned man he had ever seen, Orli blinked at him and bit at his lip again. The brave-he thought they were called that-looked at him somewhat cautiously, his long, dark braids shining in the sun, and said nothing as Orli studied him in all his glory.
"Hello," Orli finally tried, smiling shyly and holding his robe closely at the neck.
Wind in the Grass ducked his head in acknowledgement, knowing the creature before him had spoken the white-man's greeting. Well, it did sound similar to what he'd heard from whites and those of his people who knew their language. Fervently he wished White Wing was there to interpret, and to meet this white Winkte. It had to be true; the facial features were soft, as was the form beneath the thin robe. But, as with White Wing, there also were tell-tale signs this was a male-bodied two-spirit.
Now he was here, Orli didn't have a clue what he wanted to say to the Indian. He was extremely handsome, and Orli certainly liked looking at him, but was the study he was making of Orli indicative of an interest in boys, or just that he didn't know what to make of him?
He had a sudden thought, as the man was so quiet. Frowning slightly, he asked, "Do you speak English?"
"White Wing needs to see you." Wind in the Grass spoke, not realizing it was aloud. White Wing really needed to be here, not only to meet this white Winkte, but to understand the white-man's words. Head tipped to one side he studied the soft as corn silk curls teasing the long graceful neck.
Realizing he was staring, Wind in the Grass stuck out his hand as he'd observed whites to also do in greeting. Indiscriminately, they used this 'handshake' instead of reserving a sensible clasping of forearms to greet friends and clan members.
"Mon Dieu," Warrick grinned as he rounded the corner, "Mi niñito, has he stunned you to silence?" Smile broadening, he approached the pair in his loose-hipped long stride.
"I'm sure he's as stunned by one such as you, as you are of him." Though speaking to Orli, Warrick kept his eyes on the young brave, his expression warm and friendly.
"Good morning; you'll have to forgive my young friend's lack of manners at this early hour." Warrick nudged Orli's shoulder lightly, indicating the outstretched hand. "You can let him kiss your hand like a lady... or shake it if you're so inclined," he teased in a low murmur to Orli.
"What? Oh..." Orli bit at his lip as Warrick spoke to him. Somehow, he wasn't sure the brave would like to kiss his hand, so he held his own out and lightly grasped the brown hand. It was so warm, and somehow Orli couldn't resist smiling up into what looked like friendly eyes.
"I wonder what he said?" he asked Warrick, giving him a sideways look as he let go of the hand. Focusing back on the Indian, Orli smiled again and tried, "English?" Pointing at himself, he told his new friend, "Orli. Warrick," he added, pointing at Warrick. He gestured towards the Indian and asked, "You?"
Talking to Warrick, he didn't take his eyes off the man as he said, "I suppose Viggo speaks their language. Do you think we should find him, or perhaps... He's very handsome, isn't he? I wonder what the other one looks like."
Color rose to Wind in the Grass's cheeks when he noticed he'd transferred some soil from gathering roots to the pretty creature's hands. As surreptitiously as he could, Wind in the Grass wiped his off on his breechcloth in preparation of clasping the newcomer's hand. He didn't offer his hand, though, and was thankful when the tall dark man didn't either. A frown of concentration crossed his face when the younger one spoke again, poking to his chest and the other man's in turn. He was offering their names? Wind in the Grass nodded when the graceful hand gestured at him.
"Tate Kupeji" Wind answered with his name, poking at his bare chest. Wanting to hear the other names again, he gestured at the other two in turn. Mentally, Wind shifted nervously wishing once more White Wing was here... especially after hearing the name Veeggo which Wind in the Grass remembered hearing a number of times from Shawn-been during the frustrating discussions with Far Rider. He didn't want these men to summon Far Rider. He also knew he'd been away longer than intended from White Wing, and now could understand his young friend's desire to remain secluded in their room.
Hesitantly, Orli tried repeating the words the Indian had said. "Ta-tee-koo-pay-gee." He smiled cautiously, glancing quickly towards Warrick when he got a smile in return. A slight flush rose to his cheeks and he nodded, working out that Tate Kupeji wanted him to repeat their names. Slowly, he pointed to himself and enunciated carefully, "Or-lee," and then gesturing again to Warrick, he did the same, slowing the word down and almost breathing it. "Woh-rickk."
He wondered how to ask where the man's companion was, and whether he would consider introducing them.
"Your friend?" Orli tried, gesturing once more at Warrick and clasping his friend's hand, and gesturing towards Tate Kupeji and then vaguely towards his side, before smiling back at Warrick hopelessly. He gave the Indian another questioning look, sure there had to be some way to find out more, although he wasn't convinced the handsome brave understood so far.
Wind in the Grass had to smile at the attempt of his name by the pretty two-spirit. Utterly beguiling, this 'Or-lee' was. When he found himself leaning forward to catch the enunciation of the green-eyed dark man's name, Wind in the Grass had to pause. Definitely the innocent-looking beauty was an adept at entrancement. White Wing would know if this boy-girl were truly another Winkte.
Huffing out a breath in frustration, Wind in the Grass cocked his head to one side, not grasping the meaning of the gestures. He wouldn't try to repeat the names aloud either, but did rack his mind for the few white-man's words he knew.
"Wind inthegrass." Wind rushed through the literal translation of his name. Other than White Wing using it with Shawn-been, it had only been Young Chief Bluecoat-soldier, who had taught him the white-man's words, and used that name those many seasons ago.
To Wind in the Grass that somehow solidified for him that he and White Wing were on the path set for them by Wakan Tanka. The brief visit by Pale One, Shawn-been the season Wind in the Grass had joined other youths from the tribe at the bluecoat soldier's fort had been pivotal to his life path. Fondly, he also remembered the honor of being chosen to care for Young Chief's horse and the special times in the man's presence as they both groomed the mustang.
Realizing he was musing, Wind in the Grass cleared his throat and made eye contact with first 'Or-lee' and then his companion. "Come..." he spoke the word in a gruff monotone, gesturing back at the square lodge and then up to the windows in the area of the rooms he and White Wing occupied. He almost reached out a hand to touch Or-lee's, but stopped at the last moment.
It was an effort, but Warrick managed to keep a pleasant smile on his face, not the huge grin that threatened. As much as Orli was enthralled with the young brave before them, it was obvious this Wind... fellow was falling under Orli's innate charm also.
"Come on mi niñito, though he may not have understood you, I think he wants to take you to his friend as well."
Letting out a delighted laugh, Orli agreed with Warrick. "I think you're right. Yes," he nodded to the brave-whose name was possibly 'Wind in the Grass' in English, if he'd heard right-and fell into step behind him, reaching back to take Warrick's hand again.
The trip back indoors was swift; as if Wind (which Orli decided was much the easiest way of thinking of him) was as desperate to introduce them to his companion as Orli was to meet the other Indian.
At the door to the suite they were obviously staying in, Orli hesitated, knowing this was where Viggo normally slept, although from what he'd heard, Viggo had been sharing Sean's rooms these last two nights. He hoped he wasn't about to run into Viggo now, especially when Orli hadn't seen Sean at all since the party.
Gulping carefully, he exchanged another glance with Warrick, seeking reassurance, as Wind opened the door.
Inside, he could see another Indian sitting on the floor, his back to them, a low chanting sound coming from the dark-haired person. Orli couldn't see his face, but there were several objects spread on the floor in front of this Indian, and Orli bit at his lip, worried they'd interrupted something.
White Wing heard the door open, and sensing that Wind had someone with him, took a deep breath and bade the spirits leave him for now. His quiet meditation with his spirit guides had answered one or two things for him already, though he hadn't yet followed his usual ritual for direction from the medicine wheel. He had been waiting for Wind to return as their combined energies would have made the rite more powerful, but with strangers present, this wasn't the time.
Without turning, White Wing carefully cleared away the items from the floor and tucked them into the pouch at his belt. He inhaled again, bowing his head to thank Wakan Tanka for the patience he needed, then let out the breath slowly and rose to his feet before turning to greet the visitors he knew would be there.
His eyes widening at the sight which greeted him, White Wing felt the flush of recognition flow through him.
"Winkte!" The word was out before he could stop it.
The beautiful youth clothed simply in a shimmering fine material was just like him! The amazement must have shown in his eyes, even though he'd had warning that there was someone-or someones, by what Far Rider had said-here like a two-spirit.
White Wing smiled at the vision in front of him and lowered his eyes slightly in greeting, before glancing towards Wind in the Grass.
In his haste to introduce this Or-lee to White Wing, Wind in the Grass had forgotten his friend was intending to pray to his spirit guides. Initially giving White Wing an abashed look, Wind in the Grass widened his eyes and smiled proudly when White Wing confirmed Or-lee was Winkte.
"You see, our paths are true as Great Eagle saw them. We do belong here, despite Far Rider's stubbornness." Granted it was only White Wing's path that their chief had seen, but Wind would not abandon his friend here, and the coincidence of Shawn-been being here amongst others whose desires matched his own, Wind in the Grass knew this was where he belonged.
Moving over to take White Wing's hand, Wind in the Grass squeezed it as he leaned down to briefly describe meeting the white Winkte and his companion.
Warrick held back slightly, letting Orli precede him into the room. He retained a hold on Orli's hand though, especially when the beautiful Indian in the buckskin dress stood and turned their way. Truly, if he didn't know from Mr. Viggo himself, he would never have assumed the youth before them wasn't a young woman.
Now he understood a bit more of the man's disconcertment. Mr. Viggo's 'mail order bride' (for lack of a better term, Warrick thought wryly) was more than stunning. There was an ethereal quality to the young Indian that drew one in, made one want to protect her... him... from the harsher aspects of life. Warrick smiled kindly at the pair across the room, noting the similarity in the way the young brave held his companion's hand as Warrick held Orli's.
Stunned by the almost feminine beauty of the youth in front of him, Orli took a deep breath and held it, unaware he'd done so until the Indian smiled at him. He let it out with a soft whoosh, and felt a warm smile begin on his own face.
Whatever this young man was, he was as close to what Boone and Orli were as it was possible to be, Orli was sure. The word he had spoken seemed to be one of recognition too, although Orli didn't really understand its meaning.
He tightened his grip on Warrick's hand, but couldn't look away from the two Indians as he waited for Wind to speak to his stunning friend.
Nodding as Wind in the Grass told him what had happened in the garden, White Wing continued to study the beautiful boy-who could be nothing other than a two-spirit-until he realised that the boy held hands with someone behind him, slightly obscured by the doorway; clearly the other man Wind was describing.
These people would think he had no manners! Giving the pair another smile that he hoped indicated how pleased he was to meet them, he turned to Wind, placing fingers against his companion's mouth to stop him from saying more.
Gesturing carefully for the others to enter their room, White Wind took a step backward, still holding Wind's hand.
"Welcome," he offered softly, "I am White Wing, and this is Wind in the Grass."
"So beautiful," Orli murmured before he realised the Indian was speaking perfect English. His mouth fell open, and then glancing back at Warrick, he finally gathered his wits enough to bring his friend forward and managed his own introductions. "I am Orli. My friend is Warrick."
"They are... amazing," White Wing whispered to Wind, letting go of the brave's hand and holding his own out to the newcomers in the white man's way. "Hello, Orli. Hello, Warrick."
"Hello." An indulgent smile seeming to be permanently etched on his face, Warrick took the proffered hand gently in his large one. Keeping his eyes on the beautiful boy's face, he turned the hand over and bowing, slowly brought it to his lips for the barest of kisses to soft knuckles. "A lovely vision such as yourself should always be treated with the utmost courtesy."
While rising to his full height and stepping back a pace, Warrick caught first the confused frown from Wind in the Grass, then Orli's barely perceptible reaction. Shoulders lifting into a slight Gallic shrug, Warrick gave Orli a wry look to convey he couldn't resist the young pretty-boy's charm.
"I pray you are settling in well?" The only thing revealing Warrick's surprise about charming pretty-boy's good command of English was that his carefully modulated speech took on more French inflections.
Instinctively bristling when the very tall dark man placed his lips to the back of White Wing's hand, Wind in the Grass moved closer. When he realized this 'Woh-rick' was enthralled with his friend, a tiny smile crossed his face as he let his hand rest on the small of White Wing's back in support.
White Wing was touched when Warrick kissed his hand, although he could sense Wind's tension at the gesture. He was obviously good at charming people too, and the green eyes were stunning to see in a dark-skinned man.
The hand on White Wing's back was comforting, although he did not sense anything to be worried about from the newcomers.
"As well as we can. It is very different to life with our people," White Wing admitted. He kept the smile on his face, unwilling to let strangers know just how difficult things had been since they'd arrived here. He turned to Orli, looking into radiant brown eyes and then studying the delicate bone structure and nodding at the obvious femininity he found, along with the strength of the boy's masculinity. Truly, he was quite an exquisite creature, a complex mix of his male and female selves.
Opening his mouth to ask almost before he thought about it, White Wing started, "Would you..." and then paused, realising that just because this boy was obviously a two-spirit did not necessarily mean he was familiar with any rituals White Wing knew. But an aura of magic surrounded him somehow, and White Wing was convinced the strength this boy could offer to his ceremony was very great.
"Would I what?" Orli asked, confused as to why the beautiful Indian had stopped. He was the most exquisite being Orli had ever seen, he decided as he returned the study being offered to him. Smooth brown skin over perfectly symmetrical cheekbones, wide and clear brown eyes and the most perfectly bowed lips. Any man would fall for one such as this, and it was hard to tell-aside from the slightly lower voice than he would expect from a woman-what sex was hidden below the intricately-beaded tunic, although he had assumed a male until the boy turned towards them.
Orli didn't think White Wing's appraisal of him was sexual, but that was hardly surprising; his own was not, but there was some kind of attraction between them. Orli decided it was probably more because neither had expected to find anyone so similar to themselves in the other race. His smile grew as he thought about Boone, and he couldn't help wondering what his room mate would think of White Wing.
"I know someone else who should meet you," Orli finally whispered when White Wing did not reply. He laughed lightly, thinking how getting up early had meant he had seen something-someone-before Boone for once. He just hoped that Boone's delight over another of his own kind (although so different!) would be somewhat more than it had been at his own arrival. They were firm friends now, but there were still times when Orli could feel the heat of those jealous blue eyes flashing when things weren't going right.
Warrick snorted softly, knowing who Orli meant. He highly doubted Ian would have as kindly a reaction to White Wing as Orli. From the puzzled and amused expressions crossing Wind in the Grass's face, Warrick knew the other man also noticed the instantaneous connection between their young friends. He winked at the other man, tipping his head at the pair. The smile on Warrick's face broadened when the brave's lips quirked into a tiny smile of his own.
Pleased that it was obvious this Woh-rick held his young two-spirit in similar regard as he held for White Wing, Wind in the Grass relaxed. Surely if there were at least two like this here, Far Rider's fears that White Wing would be ill-treated were unfounded. His hand rubbed a small circle on White Wing's back before falling to his side.
"Offer to seat them?" he asked softly, then looked around the room and flushed slightly. There was one large, well padded chair and the mussed bed. He and White Wing would be more comfortable on the rug covered floor, but offering their sleeping place did not seem appropriate.
And again, White Wing felt like he had been most rude when Wind reminded them of a basic courtesy.
Flushing slightly himself, he offered a helpless smile to Wind as he realised the problem with the spaces in the room, and then said to his new friends, "Would you like to sit down, although I am not sure where. If you would not mind the floor...?"
Orli glanced at the obviously messed up bed and smiled at White Wing and then at Wind. They had clearly slept together, and were as intimate as he and Warrick.
He wasn't sure if Indian custom meant seating themselves on a bed was wrong, but it seemed they'd be happy enough on the floor, although Orli would rather not when he was so inappropriately dressed for it.
"If it's not too forward," he started hesitantly, looking apologetically at White Wing as he gestured to his apparel, "I'm not really dressed for the floor, but I don't want to seem to be... acting too important... We could all sit on the bed if you wouldn't mind it?"
White Wing quickly translated Orli's words for Wind, smiling as he moved to straighten the coverings over the remains of their night's passion and tears.
"It will be softer than the floor at least, so please..." he gestured to the bed now it was less open.
Orli nodded, his face still somewhat flushed as he carefully settled against the headboard and arranged his robe so he wasn't revealing too much.
White Wing sat at the foot of the bed opposite, folding his legs underneath his body and keeping his back straight while they waited for the 'men' to join them.
Warrick had to smile at Orli's and White Wing's prim actions. From the condition of the bed, he could easily gather the two Indians had been as randy as he and Orli had been last night. Instead of moving to the bed he walked over to the bell pull, and letting Wind in the Grass easily follow his movements, tugged on it. The brave's head tipped as they could hear the faint tinkle of the bell from the kitchen two floors down.
"How about some coffee and tea?" Warrick asked the room at large. "Can order some breakfast as well? I'm sure our guests are not accustomed to the normal hours the household keeps," Warrick managed before a servant appeared in the open doorway and he bid the man entrance.
White Wing's eyes opened wide at the sound from below the floor when Warrick pulled on something attached to the wall. The person appearing in the doorway some minutes later surprised him even more, and he exchanged a confused look with Wind. No-one had told them about this method of summoning others. But then, no-one had really been near them since they'd had the 'discussion' yesterday, apart from the kitchen staff who had delivered meals regularly without prompting from the room. White Wing assumed 'Cook' had arranged everything.
"We have eaten, thank you," he nodded politely towards Warrick, "but some tea would be welcome." Turning to Wind in the Grass, he spoke for his friend's benefit, "They will bring tea. You are not hungry yet? Breakfast was not long ago."
He waited for Wind to reply, knowing that his own needs were somewhat less than his more muscular friend, and some of the delicious things they'd tried here could be more than tempting. Besides, their guests could be in need of something.
"Tea and toast, please, Xui-Li," Orli smiled at the servant. No-one else seemed to ever know which of Wang-zu's family they were addressing, but Orli had never seen the problem once he'd learned each name. "Lots of butter. Thank you."
Turning back to White Wing, he studied the beadwork around the top of the Indian's tunic. It was beautiful, and he wondered if he could learn to do something like that.
Wind in the Grass waved off the offer of more food, "The sweetened gruel was enough... for now." From under a fall of his hair, he gave White Wing a tiny wink before stepping closer to the cord-that-brought-people.
"Coffee also, please, and some fruit, thank you," Warrick added with a nod of thanks. He shared a small smile with the servant, Xui-Li over Orli's innate gift for charming everyone around him. Warrick didn't let on that he also noticed the slight blush creeping up the boy's cheeks as he bowed and left to deliver their order.
Turning back to Wind in the Grass who was still studying the bell pull, Warrick motioned at the cord and spoke in simple terms in case the brave understood a few English words. "A gentle tug will bring a servant. Can order food, or have them clean... the bed or whatever you need." Internally he shook his head, assuming Mr. Viggo and the proprietors had forgotten to show these two any of the amenities.
Warrick moved over to stand next to Orli, automatically brushing an errant curl off his friend's cheek. "The poor things probably have been 'fertilizing' the garden, not having been shown anything," he whispered in Orli's ear.
"The room beyond," Warrick motioned to the bathroom and smiled softly at White Wing. "Bathroom, it is called. Has basin for washing," He cupped his hands and mimed bringing water up to his face. "The shower... like a waterfall to bathe the body, and the commode...? We are fortunate to have all this modern plumbing. Can Orli and I be of any assistance in fully familiarizing you to their functions?" Warrick tried to be as diplomatic as possible.
Orli snorted at Warrick's whisper. He was probably right, although it was hard to believe the beautiful boy on the bed with him would do anything so crude.
White Wing watched the obvious fondness in the way Warrick touched Orli, and wondered to himself if their relationship was akin to what he had with Wind or if there was more to it than that.
"Bathroom?" he repeated softly as he took in what Warrick was telling him. While White Wing understood English well enough, much of what Warrick said made little sense, but it appeared Warrick was offering to show them how things worked. He smiled, and shifted gracefully to the side of the bed, nodding. Much of this 'bathroom' still had them both puzzled, and a demonstration would be useful. Wind, particularly, was still very nervous of using the room, and only stayed in there for as long as it took to complete what was necessary.
"Warrick will show us how the white man's magic works in the other room, Wind in the Grass."
His smile broadened as he remembered his friend's reaction to the warm waterfall, and what things they'd done under it and against the tall white bowl when Sean Bean had walked in on them the day before.
"Please," White Wing said softly, "we would like to learn more of this 'bathroom'."
Oops, we exceeded LJ's post limit again. The rest of this chapter continues here
Back to Chapter 67
There’s a place I go
When I’m alone
Do anything I want
Be anyone I wanna be
But it is us I see
And I cannot believe I’m fallin'
That’s where I’m goin'
Where are you goin'
Hold it close won’t let this go
Dream, catch me, yeah
Dream, catch me when I fall
Or else I won’t come back at all
'Dream Catch Me' Newton Faulkner
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKww_Avjkzo
After the 'meeting' with Far Rider, White Wing had managed to hold back his pain long enough to accompany Wind in the Grass to the kitchen for food, although his own appetite had diminished somewhat since the frustrating conversation. Cook was kind, and had clearly noted his anguish, although he'd tried to shield it. In the end he was grateful as she quietly offered to have the meals for the rest of the day sent up to the room for him and Wind. Accepting with alacrity, White Wing couldn't wait to escape the inquisitive eyes of the people present. As soon as Wind appeared to be done, White Wing dragged the protesting brave from the room and practically ran up the stairs as if Coyote himself was after them.
He hadn't budged from the room since, having no need since they had a room to pass water and clean themselves, and food was being delivered. That night he had slept uneasily, but Wind had been attentive and distracting with soft words and gentle caresses, eventually making White Wing soar as if the whole thing had been part of his imagination. But afterwards, he'd had to cling to Wind, sobbing into his neck, and eventually, with Wind's gentle voice soothing him, he'd fallen asleep again at last.
Too agitated to consider meditating yesterday, this morning White Wing had woken more clear-headed about what he needed to do to find a solution to the problems he and Wind were facing, although there was still a certain amount of pain-both physical and mental-in his movements.
"Wind," he whispered on waking, leaning up over his friend and smiling with difficulty into bleary eyes as they blinked up at him, "I have tobacco, sweet grass and sage. Do you have any cedar? I need balance. Will you help me?"
"Of course," Wind in the Grass responded readily, his voice gruff.
After the wave of grief had engulfed White Wing, with tears in his own eyes, Wind spent most of the night singing to his friend. He sang songs that honored Swift Arrow's life, his bravery, his love for his people, his family, his wife. Only when exhaustion overtook grief and White Wing had cried himself to sleep did Wind in the Grass let the last phrases flow quietly out into the night.
Wind in the Grass cupped White Wing's cheek, his thumb tracing softly over the puffy redness beneath Wing's eyes. "I have a few pieces of bark in my pack as well as some smudge sticks given me by Dark Owl."
"Good," White Wing nodded, but did not move away from Wind's gentle touch yet. "Thank you."
His smile wavering a little, White Wing hoped Wind understood the thank you was about more than today's help. He nodded again and kissed the hand touching him, then moved away; climbing out of the bed and walking into the other room to pass water.
When he returned, he dressed quickly and began to sort through his medicine pouch for the things he needed.
Remaining on the bed until White Wing returned, Wind in the Grass watched for a few minutes while his friend assembled his supplies. He'd spent the prior day within these two rooms so he would be a constant for White Wing to lean on after the frustrating encounter with Far Rider and the Pale One... Shawn-been... White Wing had corrected him at one point. The confinement, though, was becoming unnerving.
The young brave rose at last to dig through his pack for the package of smudge sticks and his few strips of cedar bark. The search for more cedar would be a good excuse for him to escape out of doors, for at least a little while. He dressed swiftly in breechclout and leggings, a braid sliding over his shoulder as he laced on his moccasins. He felt more himself after White Wing did his braids the evening before, and more so now attired in what was most comfortable.
Automatically Wind in the Grass smoothed a hand over White Wing's head as he set down the cedar and package. "I will search for more. Is there anything else you wish me to look for?"
White Wing looked up from what he was doing, fingering his medicine wheel carefully. He shook his head briefly, and then tried for another smile. "Don't go too far. Be back soon; I need you here. It will be stronger with two of us."
He could not say he worried for Wind in the Grass in the white man's world, even though he had none of their language. It was his own selfish need to keep Wind close that made him hold his friend back.
White Wing knew that Wind must be finding the room as stifling as he did himself; more so, in fact. He could not begrudge the brave a short time in the open air, though he could not make himself accompany Wind. Fear of meeting Far Rider nearby was too uppermost in his mind.
"I won't be long," Wind in the Grass leaned further down to kiss White Wing's upturned face. "Will even stay within the hedges fencing in this square lodge," Wind couldn't keep the slight sneer out of his voice. He kissed the tip of Wing's nose then made his way out of the room and down the nearby stairs.
Wind in the Grass slipped quickly through the kitchen, which was thankfully empty at the moment. Once out in the cultivated area outside, he stood for a few moments breathing deeply.
Once Wind left him, White Wing contemplated his supplies, including what Wind had given him. It should be enough for the ritual he wanted to perform.
Spinning his medicine wheel lightly in his hand as he closed his eyes, White Wing opened them again and stopped the wheel. Looking about the room, he decided the best place to lay things was on the floor at the end of the bed. He placed the wheel there, turning it until he was satisfied that the sides of it faced the correct directions.
Chanting lightly under his breath, he place a few leaves of tobacco at the east point. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and spoke the words of an ancient rhyme that the tribe's medicine man had taught him.
Repeating the action at the south point, he placed the cedar bark there. Following this, he did the same at the west point with the sage and at the north point with the sweet grass.
Shuffling backward on his knees, White Wing spread his hands and turned his face upward, calling his spirit guides in soft tones. Once he felt the warmth of the animal guides for each compass point fill his vision, he slowly lowered to his backside and adjusted his legs comfortably underneath himself.
He would wait now for Wind to return and take a place opposite him. Then they could chant more of the special words as they lit the herbs and asked for help from the spirits.
For now, he could see if they offered him any visions before his friend returned to offer his aid to the ritual.
The air was moist and along with dirty smells that reminded Wind in the Grass of the Iron Horse that brought them here, he could distinguish salt and fish smells. He stretched his arms over his head as he stepped down onto the closely shorn grass, glad to be out of the square lodge.
The small variety of trees was not any that had leaves or pods or anything Wind in the Grass knew as usable. He did find sagebrush, though it seemed more bitter than white sage.
One area proved quite a find. Not only was there a semi-hidden area Wind in the Grass could use to meditate. In front of that herbs and edible roots and more were planted in small straight rows. Wind helped himself to a number of herbs, wandering carefully amongst the plant mounds as he filled the small pack fastened at his waist.
Warmth surrounded Orli, and in his dream, he was backing into Sean's heated body, a firmness at his backside sending delightful shivers through him and making him squirm pleasantly.
"Mmm, that for me?" he mumbled sleepily, not opening his eyes as he became aware that this was something more than a dream.
The deep voice answering him in less than real words had a different accent and timbre from his expectations, and Orli's eyes flew open wide as he remembered how he hadn't seen Sean since near the end of the party two nights before. Sean had been called away for some crisis of Viggo's, and had apparently been too busy to see Orli since then. Orli had felt put in his place by this; he was, after all, simply another one of Sean Bean's whores, nothing more. Orli had stayed with Warrick on the night of the party, forgetting all about Sean with some very delicious help from his friend.
The next day though, Orli had still not caught a single glimpse of Sean, and eventually, he'd given up waiting around downstairs, and retired to his and Boone's room to fret alone. He still wasn't allowed to work to take his mind off things; Marton was insisting he kept well away from clients until the time came for his big 'show'.
And later, when he'd managed to get himself worked up enough, he'd got into a verbal slanging match with Boone over the state of their room-Orli had been trying on dresses and had clothing slung everywhere by the time Boone had finished work for the night-so that Ian had stormed out, looking pinched and angry, stating he was sleeping with Craig and Greg, and that Orli could go fuck himself.
Orli had broken down in tears as the door slammed, collapsing amidst flounces and frills, convinced that Sean would never seek him out again. A tentative knock at the door had revealed Warrick upon Orli's cautious 'come in', and he'd allowed his friend to wrap him in comforting arms while he let his fears out.
Sensible as ever, Warrick had assured Orli that his patron was simply attending to something that needed urgent resolution and had nothing to do with Sean's feelings for Orli. Viggo had apparently been graced with visitors from afar and their future was being sorted with aid from Sean; or at least that was what Warrick had heard, and Sean himself had told Warrick the night before that he would make it up to Orli as soon as he was able.
Warrick had been more than comforting once they'd tidied up the room together, and the pleasant ache deep inside Orli now was a wonderful reminder of the form most of that comfort had taken.
Warrick curled closer into him and mumbled again, clearly not properly conscious yet, despite the erection lined up against Orli's bottom. However, Orli was wide awake, and although it was tempting to roll over and help the rest of his friend stir as much as his cock already had, the blue of the sky shining outside the dormer window drew him up. Carefully disentangling himself from Warrick's grasp, Orli smiled indulgently down at him as he pushed out of bed and reached for his robe.
Orli wrapped the soft cloth around his shoulders, and padded quietly to the window to open it, and softly breathed in the morning air. After the other night's close and often smoky party atmosphere, and most of yesterday spent closeted in this room, it was a relief to feel a fresh breeze against his skin. Orli gazed across the houses, glad to be alive and here in America, despite his disappointment and fears at being denied time with Sean.
A movement from the garden below caught Orli's eye, and as he looked downward, his heart skipped slightly at the sight which greeted him.
"Warrick!" Orli exclaimed breathlessly, unable to contain himself. He wasn't sure whether to be excited or frightened, but he knew he had to do something.
Something he'd only previously seen in pictures and read stories of... there was a real live Indian in the garden.
Alerted first by the scraping of wood on wood, Wind in the Grass pinpointed the opened window by the time the voice called out. Keeping an eye on the figure on the upper floor, Wind in the Grass continued picking through the plants. He would finger, smell, taste some, pick some and move on.
It was losing the soft, warm cradle of Orli's bottom cushioning his morning erection that brought Warrick to full wakefulness. When Orli left the bed, he finally opened his eyes and smiled as his friend took in the morning.
The outcry brought him out of the bed and over to Orli's side in an instant.
"What is it mi niñito?" Warrick came up close to Orli's back and looked where the boy was pointing. "Ah." A smile spread on Warrick's face as he caught sight of the half-clad figure below. "I told you, your Sean was helping Mr. Viggo with some visitors." Chuckling, he nuzzled through the curls at Orli's nape.
"Viggo?" Orli blinked back at Warrick, astounded, and then shivered when the man nuzzled into him as he turned back to study the Indian brave again. "There's more than one?" he asked, admiring the smooth muscles on the man's upper body as he moved in among the garden plants.
Unable to stop watching the brave, Orli drew Warrick's large hands around himself like an extra cover, and wiggled comfortably back into his chest.
"He's very... handsome, I suppose. So what does Viggo have to do with Indians?"
"He is very comely," Warrick chuckled, encircling Orli's waist and pulling him even closer. Peering easily over Orli's shoulder, Warrick watched the young man explore the herb and vegetable patch.
Though he didn't think this was the one who knew some English, Warrick spoke softly, using that as an excuse to further nuzzle through Orli's soft curls. "This one and his... companion are from Viggo's clan, I think the proper term is," Warrick stated diplomatically.
Below them, Wind in the Grass took another surreptitious glance up. Another man had joined the first figure. This was a different dark-skinned man from the one the previous day, and brought to mind the discussions about the diversity within this square lodge. Wind frowned as he studied the smaller boy, girl; he wasn't sure. Then White Wing's words from the night of their arrival came to him: a white Winkte! He let his gaze linger and even curved his lips into a small smile.
"Clan?" Orli asked, wrinkling his brow, "Viggo has an Indian clan?" He bit his lip as the Indian looked up at them. Was he smiling at them?
"We have to go down there, Warrick. I want to see him properly, and he seems friendly." He gave the Indian a little smile of his own and then ducked under Warrick's arms, pulling his gown around himself more closely and tightening the belt as he found his slippers and headed for the door.
"Put some clothes on, though," he threw back at Warrick, "I don't know if he'd be pleased to see you with that." Orli waggled his eyebrows and grinned as he gestured towards Warrick's still semi-firm cock.
"Hurry! I'm going down there now; you can catch up!"
And with that, he was out the door and tripping down the steps. Being cooped up in a room wasn't Orli's natural habitat at all, and this was the perfect excuse to be outside. He completely forgot to be worried he could run into Sean on his way through the house. Instead, he thought about what the Indian's 'companion' might be like; whether it was a woman or a man, and what they were visiting Viggo about.
"Damned imp," Warrick chuckled fondly as he moved to comply with Orli's wishes. After digging through the discarded clothing from the night before, he drew on the pair of loose silk trousers loaned from Marton and shucked into the thin white shirt he'd worn. Not bothering with buttons or finding shoes, Warrick plowed out the door and downstairs after his excitable young friend. Hopefully he'd arrive before Orli chattered the poor brave's ear off.
Luckily, the kitchen wasn't busy, and Cook barely had time to do more than suggest something for Orli to eat before he was past her with a 'Later, please,' tossed back in her direction. Once out the back door, he ran quickly through the garden until he reached the area where he'd seen the Indian.
Oh!
Coming to a complete stop a few feet away from the most gorgeous, warm brownish-red-skinned man he had ever seen, Orli blinked at him and bit at his lip again. The brave-he thought they were called that-looked at him somewhat cautiously, his long, dark braids shining in the sun, and said nothing as Orli studied him in all his glory.
"Hello," Orli finally tried, smiling shyly and holding his robe closely at the neck.
Wind in the Grass ducked his head in acknowledgement, knowing the creature before him had spoken the white-man's greeting. Well, it did sound similar to what he'd heard from whites and those of his people who knew their language. Fervently he wished White Wing was there to interpret, and to meet this white Winkte. It had to be true; the facial features were soft, as was the form beneath the thin robe. But, as with White Wing, there also were tell-tale signs this was a male-bodied two-spirit.
Now he was here, Orli didn't have a clue what he wanted to say to the Indian. He was extremely handsome, and Orli certainly liked looking at him, but was the study he was making of Orli indicative of an interest in boys, or just that he didn't know what to make of him?
He had a sudden thought, as the man was so quiet. Frowning slightly, he asked, "Do you speak English?"
"White Wing needs to see you." Wind in the Grass spoke, not realizing it was aloud. White Wing really needed to be here, not only to meet this white Winkte, but to understand the white-man's words. Head tipped to one side he studied the soft as corn silk curls teasing the long graceful neck.
Realizing he was staring, Wind in the Grass stuck out his hand as he'd observed whites to also do in greeting. Indiscriminately, they used this 'handshake' instead of reserving a sensible clasping of forearms to greet friends and clan members.
"Mon Dieu," Warrick grinned as he rounded the corner, "Mi niñito, has he stunned you to silence?" Smile broadening, he approached the pair in his loose-hipped long stride.
"I'm sure he's as stunned by one such as you, as you are of him." Though speaking to Orli, Warrick kept his eyes on the young brave, his expression warm and friendly.
"Good morning; you'll have to forgive my young friend's lack of manners at this early hour." Warrick nudged Orli's shoulder lightly, indicating the outstretched hand. "You can let him kiss your hand like a lady... or shake it if you're so inclined," he teased in a low murmur to Orli.
"What? Oh..." Orli bit at his lip as Warrick spoke to him. Somehow, he wasn't sure the brave would like to kiss his hand, so he held his own out and lightly grasped the brown hand. It was so warm, and somehow Orli couldn't resist smiling up into what looked like friendly eyes.
"I wonder what he said?" he asked Warrick, giving him a sideways look as he let go of the hand. Focusing back on the Indian, Orli smiled again and tried, "English?" Pointing at himself, he told his new friend, "Orli. Warrick," he added, pointing at Warrick. He gestured towards the Indian and asked, "You?"
Talking to Warrick, he didn't take his eyes off the man as he said, "I suppose Viggo speaks their language. Do you think we should find him, or perhaps... He's very handsome, isn't he? I wonder what the other one looks like."
Color rose to Wind in the Grass's cheeks when he noticed he'd transferred some soil from gathering roots to the pretty creature's hands. As surreptitiously as he could, Wind in the Grass wiped his off on his breechcloth in preparation of clasping the newcomer's hand. He didn't offer his hand, though, and was thankful when the tall dark man didn't either. A frown of concentration crossed his face when the younger one spoke again, poking to his chest and the other man's in turn. He was offering their names? Wind in the Grass nodded when the graceful hand gestured at him.
"Tate Kupeji" Wind answered with his name, poking at his bare chest. Wanting to hear the other names again, he gestured at the other two in turn. Mentally, Wind shifted nervously wishing once more White Wing was here... especially after hearing the name Veeggo which Wind in the Grass remembered hearing a number of times from Shawn-been during the frustrating discussions with Far Rider. He didn't want these men to summon Far Rider. He also knew he'd been away longer than intended from White Wing, and now could understand his young friend's desire to remain secluded in their room.
Hesitantly, Orli tried repeating the words the Indian had said. "Ta-tee-koo-pay-gee." He smiled cautiously, glancing quickly towards Warrick when he got a smile in return. A slight flush rose to his cheeks and he nodded, working out that Tate Kupeji wanted him to repeat their names. Slowly, he pointed to himself and enunciated carefully, "Or-lee," and then gesturing again to Warrick, he did the same, slowing the word down and almost breathing it. "Woh-rickk."
He wondered how to ask where the man's companion was, and whether he would consider introducing them.
"Your friend?" Orli tried, gesturing once more at Warrick and clasping his friend's hand, and gesturing towards Tate Kupeji and then vaguely towards his side, before smiling back at Warrick hopelessly. He gave the Indian another questioning look, sure there had to be some way to find out more, although he wasn't convinced the handsome brave understood so far.
Wind in the Grass had to smile at the attempt of his name by the pretty two-spirit. Utterly beguiling, this 'Or-lee' was. When he found himself leaning forward to catch the enunciation of the green-eyed dark man's name, Wind in the Grass had to pause. Definitely the innocent-looking beauty was an adept at entrancement. White Wing would know if this boy-girl were truly another Winkte.
Huffing out a breath in frustration, Wind in the Grass cocked his head to one side, not grasping the meaning of the gestures. He wouldn't try to repeat the names aloud either, but did rack his mind for the few white-man's words he knew.
"Wind inthegrass." Wind rushed through the literal translation of his name. Other than White Wing using it with Shawn-been, it had only been Young Chief Bluecoat-soldier, who had taught him the white-man's words, and used that name those many seasons ago.
To Wind in the Grass that somehow solidified for him that he and White Wing were on the path set for them by Wakan Tanka. The brief visit by Pale One, Shawn-been the season Wind in the Grass had joined other youths from the tribe at the bluecoat soldier's fort had been pivotal to his life path. Fondly, he also remembered the honor of being chosen to care for Young Chief's horse and the special times in the man's presence as they both groomed the mustang.
Realizing he was musing, Wind in the Grass cleared his throat and made eye contact with first 'Or-lee' and then his companion. "Come..." he spoke the word in a gruff monotone, gesturing back at the square lodge and then up to the windows in the area of the rooms he and White Wing occupied. He almost reached out a hand to touch Or-lee's, but stopped at the last moment.
It was an effort, but Warrick managed to keep a pleasant smile on his face, not the huge grin that threatened. As much as Orli was enthralled with the young brave before them, it was obvious this Wind... fellow was falling under Orli's innate charm also.
"Come on mi niñito, though he may not have understood you, I think he wants to take you to his friend as well."
Letting out a delighted laugh, Orli agreed with Warrick. "I think you're right. Yes," he nodded to the brave-whose name was possibly 'Wind in the Grass' in English, if he'd heard right-and fell into step behind him, reaching back to take Warrick's hand again.
The trip back indoors was swift; as if Wind (which Orli decided was much the easiest way of thinking of him) was as desperate to introduce them to his companion as Orli was to meet the other Indian.
At the door to the suite they were obviously staying in, Orli hesitated, knowing this was where Viggo normally slept, although from what he'd heard, Viggo had been sharing Sean's rooms these last two nights. He hoped he wasn't about to run into Viggo now, especially when Orli hadn't seen Sean at all since the party.
Gulping carefully, he exchanged another glance with Warrick, seeking reassurance, as Wind opened the door.
Inside, he could see another Indian sitting on the floor, his back to them, a low chanting sound coming from the dark-haired person. Orli couldn't see his face, but there were several objects spread on the floor in front of this Indian, and Orli bit at his lip, worried they'd interrupted something.
White Wing heard the door open, and sensing that Wind had someone with him, took a deep breath and bade the spirits leave him for now. His quiet meditation with his spirit guides had answered one or two things for him already, though he hadn't yet followed his usual ritual for direction from the medicine wheel. He had been waiting for Wind to return as their combined energies would have made the rite more powerful, but with strangers present, this wasn't the time.
Without turning, White Wing carefully cleared away the items from the floor and tucked them into the pouch at his belt. He inhaled again, bowing his head to thank Wakan Tanka for the patience he needed, then let out the breath slowly and rose to his feet before turning to greet the visitors he knew would be there.
His eyes widening at the sight which greeted him, White Wing felt the flush of recognition flow through him.
"Winkte!" The word was out before he could stop it.
The beautiful youth clothed simply in a shimmering fine material was just like him! The amazement must have shown in his eyes, even though he'd had warning that there was someone-or someones, by what Far Rider had said-here like a two-spirit.
White Wing smiled at the vision in front of him and lowered his eyes slightly in greeting, before glancing towards Wind in the Grass.
In his haste to introduce this Or-lee to White Wing, Wind in the Grass had forgotten his friend was intending to pray to his spirit guides. Initially giving White Wing an abashed look, Wind in the Grass widened his eyes and smiled proudly when White Wing confirmed Or-lee was Winkte.
"You see, our paths are true as Great Eagle saw them. We do belong here, despite Far Rider's stubbornness." Granted it was only White Wing's path that their chief had seen, but Wind would not abandon his friend here, and the coincidence of Shawn-been being here amongst others whose desires matched his own, Wind in the Grass knew this was where he belonged.
Moving over to take White Wing's hand, Wind in the Grass squeezed it as he leaned down to briefly describe meeting the white Winkte and his companion.
Warrick held back slightly, letting Orli precede him into the room. He retained a hold on Orli's hand though, especially when the beautiful Indian in the buckskin dress stood and turned their way. Truly, if he didn't know from Mr. Viggo himself, he would never have assumed the youth before them wasn't a young woman.
Now he understood a bit more of the man's disconcertment. Mr. Viggo's 'mail order bride' (for lack of a better term, Warrick thought wryly) was more than stunning. There was an ethereal quality to the young Indian that drew one in, made one want to protect her... him... from the harsher aspects of life. Warrick smiled kindly at the pair across the room, noting the similarity in the way the young brave held his companion's hand as Warrick held Orli's.
Stunned by the almost feminine beauty of the youth in front of him, Orli took a deep breath and held it, unaware he'd done so until the Indian smiled at him. He let it out with a soft whoosh, and felt a warm smile begin on his own face.
Whatever this young man was, he was as close to what Boone and Orli were as it was possible to be, Orli was sure. The word he had spoken seemed to be one of recognition too, although Orli didn't really understand its meaning.
He tightened his grip on Warrick's hand, but couldn't look away from the two Indians as he waited for Wind to speak to his stunning friend.
Nodding as Wind in the Grass told him what had happened in the garden, White Wing continued to study the beautiful boy-who could be nothing other than a two-spirit-until he realised that the boy held hands with someone behind him, slightly obscured by the doorway; clearly the other man Wind was describing.
These people would think he had no manners! Giving the pair another smile that he hoped indicated how pleased he was to meet them, he turned to Wind, placing fingers against his companion's mouth to stop him from saying more.
Gesturing carefully for the others to enter their room, White Wind took a step backward, still holding Wind's hand.
"Welcome," he offered softly, "I am White Wing, and this is Wind in the Grass."
"So beautiful," Orli murmured before he realised the Indian was speaking perfect English. His mouth fell open, and then glancing back at Warrick, he finally gathered his wits enough to bring his friend forward and managed his own introductions. "I am Orli. My friend is Warrick."
"They are... amazing," White Wing whispered to Wind, letting go of the brave's hand and holding his own out to the newcomers in the white man's way. "Hello, Orli. Hello, Warrick."
"Hello." An indulgent smile seeming to be permanently etched on his face, Warrick took the proffered hand gently in his large one. Keeping his eyes on the beautiful boy's face, he turned the hand over and bowing, slowly brought it to his lips for the barest of kisses to soft knuckles. "A lovely vision such as yourself should always be treated with the utmost courtesy."
While rising to his full height and stepping back a pace, Warrick caught first the confused frown from Wind in the Grass, then Orli's barely perceptible reaction. Shoulders lifting into a slight Gallic shrug, Warrick gave Orli a wry look to convey he couldn't resist the young pretty-boy's charm.
"I pray you are settling in well?" The only thing revealing Warrick's surprise about charming pretty-boy's good command of English was that his carefully modulated speech took on more French inflections.
Instinctively bristling when the very tall dark man placed his lips to the back of White Wing's hand, Wind in the Grass moved closer. When he realized this 'Woh-rick' was enthralled with his friend, a tiny smile crossed his face as he let his hand rest on the small of White Wing's back in support.
White Wing was touched when Warrick kissed his hand, although he could sense Wind's tension at the gesture. He was obviously good at charming people too, and the green eyes were stunning to see in a dark-skinned man.
The hand on White Wing's back was comforting, although he did not sense anything to be worried about from the newcomers.
"As well as we can. It is very different to life with our people," White Wing admitted. He kept the smile on his face, unwilling to let strangers know just how difficult things had been since they'd arrived here. He turned to Orli, looking into radiant brown eyes and then studying the delicate bone structure and nodding at the obvious femininity he found, along with the strength of the boy's masculinity. Truly, he was quite an exquisite creature, a complex mix of his male and female selves.
Opening his mouth to ask almost before he thought about it, White Wing started, "Would you..." and then paused, realising that just because this boy was obviously a two-spirit did not necessarily mean he was familiar with any rituals White Wing knew. But an aura of magic surrounded him somehow, and White Wing was convinced the strength this boy could offer to his ceremony was very great.
"Would I what?" Orli asked, confused as to why the beautiful Indian had stopped. He was the most exquisite being Orli had ever seen, he decided as he returned the study being offered to him. Smooth brown skin over perfectly symmetrical cheekbones, wide and clear brown eyes and the most perfectly bowed lips. Any man would fall for one such as this, and it was hard to tell-aside from the slightly lower voice than he would expect from a woman-what sex was hidden below the intricately-beaded tunic, although he had assumed a male until the boy turned towards them.
Orli didn't think White Wing's appraisal of him was sexual, but that was hardly surprising; his own was not, but there was some kind of attraction between them. Orli decided it was probably more because neither had expected to find anyone so similar to themselves in the other race. His smile grew as he thought about Boone, and he couldn't help wondering what his room mate would think of White Wing.
"I know someone else who should meet you," Orli finally whispered when White Wing did not reply. He laughed lightly, thinking how getting up early had meant he had seen something-someone-before Boone for once. He just hoped that Boone's delight over another of his own kind (although so different!) would be somewhat more than it had been at his own arrival. They were firm friends now, but there were still times when Orli could feel the heat of those jealous blue eyes flashing when things weren't going right.
Warrick snorted softly, knowing who Orli meant. He highly doubted Ian would have as kindly a reaction to White Wing as Orli. From the puzzled and amused expressions crossing Wind in the Grass's face, Warrick knew the other man also noticed the instantaneous connection between their young friends. He winked at the other man, tipping his head at the pair. The smile on Warrick's face broadened when the brave's lips quirked into a tiny smile of his own.
Pleased that it was obvious this Woh-rick held his young two-spirit in similar regard as he held for White Wing, Wind in the Grass relaxed. Surely if there were at least two like this here, Far Rider's fears that White Wing would be ill-treated were unfounded. His hand rubbed a small circle on White Wing's back before falling to his side.
"Offer to seat them?" he asked softly, then looked around the room and flushed slightly. There was one large, well padded chair and the mussed bed. He and White Wing would be more comfortable on the rug covered floor, but offering their sleeping place did not seem appropriate.
And again, White Wing felt like he had been most rude when Wind reminded them of a basic courtesy.
Flushing slightly himself, he offered a helpless smile to Wind as he realised the problem with the spaces in the room, and then said to his new friends, "Would you like to sit down, although I am not sure where. If you would not mind the floor...?"
Orli glanced at the obviously messed up bed and smiled at White Wing and then at Wind. They had clearly slept together, and were as intimate as he and Warrick.
He wasn't sure if Indian custom meant seating themselves on a bed was wrong, but it seemed they'd be happy enough on the floor, although Orli would rather not when he was so inappropriately dressed for it.
"If it's not too forward," he started hesitantly, looking apologetically at White Wing as he gestured to his apparel, "I'm not really dressed for the floor, but I don't want to seem to be... acting too important... We could all sit on the bed if you wouldn't mind it?"
White Wing quickly translated Orli's words for Wind, smiling as he moved to straighten the coverings over the remains of their night's passion and tears.
"It will be softer than the floor at least, so please..." he gestured to the bed now it was less open.
Orli nodded, his face still somewhat flushed as he carefully settled against the headboard and arranged his robe so he wasn't revealing too much.
White Wing sat at the foot of the bed opposite, folding his legs underneath his body and keeping his back straight while they waited for the 'men' to join them.
Warrick had to smile at Orli's and White Wing's prim actions. From the condition of the bed, he could easily gather the two Indians had been as randy as he and Orli had been last night. Instead of moving to the bed he walked over to the bell pull, and letting Wind in the Grass easily follow his movements, tugged on it. The brave's head tipped as they could hear the faint tinkle of the bell from the kitchen two floors down.
"How about some coffee and tea?" Warrick asked the room at large. "Can order some breakfast as well? I'm sure our guests are not accustomed to the normal hours the household keeps," Warrick managed before a servant appeared in the open doorway and he bid the man entrance.
White Wing's eyes opened wide at the sound from below the floor when Warrick pulled on something attached to the wall. The person appearing in the doorway some minutes later surprised him even more, and he exchanged a confused look with Wind. No-one had told them about this method of summoning others. But then, no-one had really been near them since they'd had the 'discussion' yesterday, apart from the kitchen staff who had delivered meals regularly without prompting from the room. White Wing assumed 'Cook' had arranged everything.
"We have eaten, thank you," he nodded politely towards Warrick, "but some tea would be welcome." Turning to Wind in the Grass, he spoke for his friend's benefit, "They will bring tea. You are not hungry yet? Breakfast was not long ago."
He waited for Wind to reply, knowing that his own needs were somewhat less than his more muscular friend, and some of the delicious things they'd tried here could be more than tempting. Besides, their guests could be in need of something.
"Tea and toast, please, Xui-Li," Orli smiled at the servant. No-one else seemed to ever know which of Wang-zu's family they were addressing, but Orli had never seen the problem once he'd learned each name. "Lots of butter. Thank you."
Turning back to White Wing, he studied the beadwork around the top of the Indian's tunic. It was beautiful, and he wondered if he could learn to do something like that.
Wind in the Grass waved off the offer of more food, "The sweetened gruel was enough... for now." From under a fall of his hair, he gave White Wing a tiny wink before stepping closer to the cord-that-brought-people.
"Coffee also, please, and some fruit, thank you," Warrick added with a nod of thanks. He shared a small smile with the servant, Xui-Li over Orli's innate gift for charming everyone around him. Warrick didn't let on that he also noticed the slight blush creeping up the boy's cheeks as he bowed and left to deliver their order.
Turning back to Wind in the Grass who was still studying the bell pull, Warrick motioned at the cord and spoke in simple terms in case the brave understood a few English words. "A gentle tug will bring a servant. Can order food, or have them clean... the bed or whatever you need." Internally he shook his head, assuming Mr. Viggo and the proprietors had forgotten to show these two any of the amenities.
Warrick moved over to stand next to Orli, automatically brushing an errant curl off his friend's cheek. "The poor things probably have been 'fertilizing' the garden, not having been shown anything," he whispered in Orli's ear.
"The room beyond," Warrick motioned to the bathroom and smiled softly at White Wing. "Bathroom, it is called. Has basin for washing," He cupped his hands and mimed bringing water up to his face. "The shower... like a waterfall to bathe the body, and the commode...? We are fortunate to have all this modern plumbing. Can Orli and I be of any assistance in fully familiarizing you to their functions?" Warrick tried to be as diplomatic as possible.
Orli snorted at Warrick's whisper. He was probably right, although it was hard to believe the beautiful boy on the bed with him would do anything so crude.
White Wing watched the obvious fondness in the way Warrick touched Orli, and wondered to himself if their relationship was akin to what he had with Wind or if there was more to it than that.
"Bathroom?" he repeated softly as he took in what Warrick was telling him. While White Wing understood English well enough, much of what Warrick said made little sense, but it appeared Warrick was offering to show them how things worked. He smiled, and shifted gracefully to the side of the bed, nodding. Much of this 'bathroom' still had them both puzzled, and a demonstration would be useful. Wind, particularly, was still very nervous of using the room, and only stayed in there for as long as it took to complete what was necessary.
"Warrick will show us how the white man's magic works in the other room, Wind in the Grass."
His smile broadened as he remembered his friend's reaction to the warm waterfall, and what things they'd done under it and against the tall white bowl when Sean Bean had walked in on them the day before.
"Please," White Wing said softly, "we would like to learn more of this 'bathroom'."
Oops, we exceeded LJ's post limit again. The rest of this chapter continues here