Reap the Wild Wind, post 6 (Wraeththu WIP fic)

[thrihyrne]

Well, I think this is probably the next to last post in this; my writing focus is a bit scattered these days between this, beginning the process of reworking "Maelstrom and Mage," revisiting a languishing HP story, beta'ing, and writing a little bit on NaNoWriMo. At any rate, for the few of you who might be reading along, here's more of Kelp and his clan while still with the tree-hara.

Summary: Níl gach uile fhánaí caillte- Not all who wander are lost. (J.R.R. Tolkien) Kelp, a newly-incepted har and his companion, Blackspur, journey from an outer island of Alba Sulh to find others of their kind. Adult. Adventures, aruna, and an occasional warning for violence. No warnings for this post in regards to content except for some angst.


Cairn's clan stayed through the winter, much to Kelp's surprise- and great pleasure. The tree-hara and those from further north became well acquainted through the months with only a few minor disagreements and skirmishes. Certainly nothing like what had happened at the lake with the kelpie occurred, only some differences of opinion and one or two fights to do with defensive loyalty that were sparked by hara who'd had a tremendous amount to drink. Kelp had endured growing resentment from Blackspur about his rather spontaneous move into Hunt's telan until at last he'd confronted him about it. They cleared the air during a long and teary conversation; the tears came from anger and eventually from contrition, not sadness. In the end, Kelp had felt that their close friendship could be healed with time. He had desperately hoped so after the conversation, as he'd headed back to the home he shared with Hunt up near the top edge of the telani, nursing a bruised heart.

Kelp had opened the flap, appreciating the warmth from a small brazier that stood across the room.

"Hunt?" he'd said, brows furrowed when he didn't sense his lover's presence. Now his feelings were hurt in addition to the emotional wringing he'd been through. Hunt knew exactly where Kelp had gone, supporting him through his own fear that Kelp's longtime companion would try and snag him back for himself, despite all of Kelp's reassurances to the contrary. Sighing, Kelp had pulled off his woolen robe and sank into a bowl-like wooden chair Hunt had carved. It was surprisingly comfortable. He'd kicked off his moccasins and had half a glass of wine when he saw the decorated canvas of their door flap fling wide as Hunt flew in, rushing straight to Kelp's side.

"I'm so sorry," he'd exclaimed, taking Kelp's hand and kissing the palm. "I wanted to be here when you got back, but Lochenfex dawdled the whole way from the sacred grove. After a month you'd think he'd have gotten used to the energy of the trees, but no." He sounded disgusted; Kelp knew their newest har wasn't Hunt's favourite to be around, but Cairn had insisted he share some of his knowledge to assist him in his caste training.

"It's okay. You're here now." Kelp pressed his palm to Hunt's deceptively fragile features. "And things went all right. Brutally honest and painful, but I think eventually he'll come around."

Loving concern emanated from Hunt like glowing embers. "As long as you're not broken, only bruised," he said gently. "I'm so glad you're back. I worried."

"I knew you would. Thank you for caring so much about how I feel."

Some of the weight of his conversation was already lifting from him; Kelp suspected that Hunt was discreetly using some of his healing abilities to comfort Kelp's agitation of spirit.

"Caring for you is like breathing," Hunt said before screwing up his face in a fleeting grimace. "You've turned me into a bloody romantic."

"It wasn't intentional!" Kelp said forcefully, though he knew Hunt was trying to be light-hearted and cheer him up.

Since then they'd grown ever closer, in ways both similar and wholly different from the intimacies he'd known with Blackspur. There was desperation at first, borne of a fear that Kelp and his kinshar would leave at any time. That faded once Cairn held a meeting as they approached the equinox and stated that they would remain at least until winter released its hold on the land. Kelp and Blackspur had also been desperate at first; its source, however, had come from the fear of isolation and the anxiety of their tenuous survival.

Hunt's passion hadn't diminished since their first aruna, though as time went on, they engaged in it with more intent, taking time to learn the deeper fires to be set aflame in stimulating sensitive pleasure points they'd discovered could be aroused in their soume-lams. So much energy could be generated when they were together, like the sun rising on a summer morning. It bloomed when they invoked the presence of Hunt's dehar, or consciously brought their harish powers above and beyond just the physical.

Kelp realised that while exclusivity wasn't a part of being Wraeththu, perhaps despite himself he was growing to see Hunt as a lifetime partner. This worried him in some ways, especially since while they were both Sulh, they were in different tribes, and one day Kelp's group would move on. One day when Hunt was out with Arbor and Leegan searching for wild game, Kelp found himself seeking out Cobweb, of all hara, for advice. Cobweb was in the communal kitchen, kneading a large lump of dough to make the week's bread supply. Kelp stumbled through the words of his fears, grateful that his kinshar didn't immediately ridicule or chastise him.

"Have you told Hunt any of this?" he asked, still elegant even with flour on his hands and smock, his tendons standing out as he kneaded the wheat dough.

"Not really," Kelp admitted, chewing on a piece of dried meat. "But we open our minds so much during aruna, I feel he must have a sense of it."

"Doubtless he does," Cobweb affirmed. "Wraeththu, like humans, will probably develop strong partner bonds, sealed by ceremony, or maybe even blood ritual. You could be blazing a new trail," he said, looking coyly at Kelp through the fringe of his long black lashes.

"Yes, but we'll move on," Kelp said, hearing the urgency in his own voice. "I don't know that I want to stay, but what if Hunt doesn't want to go?"

"Well, you'd have to do some deep searching within yourself," Cobweb said slowly. "And Hunt as well. But I think you're underestimating each other. I've kept an eye on you both since you chose to live with him. Maybe you should go to the grove and meditate on it. But then talk to each other," he murmured, using his elbow to nudge some hair out of his eyes.

Kelp nodded, feeling far more hopeful than he had when he'd left their telan, though his thoughts continued to churn like the frigid seas he'd left behind.

"Just borrow my cape and go on," Cobweb said, inclining his head toward the far side of the room. "And don't forget to bring it back. I'm quite partial to it."

"Of course. Thanks."

Kelp was surprised at how warm the cape was, given how light the fabric seemed. There was a pair of leather gloves in the exterior pockets, supple and luxurious. He flexed his fingers, enjoying seeing how his hands looked in their borrowed black casings.

I should find out if he made these, or if they're from when Cobweb was human, he thought as he rode to the sacred grove, his breath and that of his horse coming out in misty huffs. Once there, he built a small fire, berating himself for not having thought to bring a sprig of dried sage to help purify his thoughts. As he quieted his mind and offered up a petition for clarity to Lunil, the dehar of the Moon who represented love and spirituality, he found that an image of Gwynswyth, Hunt's dehar, appeared in his mind's eye instead, surrounded by a luminous mist. The dehar didn't say anything, but Kelp felt awash in waves of welcome and invitation. He remained in the dehar's presence for a time, basking in the gift of his calm and affection. When Gwynswyth began to fade, Kelp made the dehar's symbol over his heart. It was, of course, familiar to him now. He came out of his mindful state renewed, his hopes soaring as he found his horse, which had wandered off, and rode back to the tree-hara.

That evening after supper, once Kelp and Hunt had returned to their home, Hunt gave him a look of intrigue. "You've been up to something," he observed, lying down on their bed and pulling Kelp down to him.

Kelp nodded his affirmation and leaned in to kiss Hunt deeply, his tongue delving hungrily into Hunt's mouth before the kiss transformed into a sharing of breath. Kelp sent over the images from his meditation, including that of the visit from Hunt's dehar. When at last they broke apart, Hunt looked dazedly at him, his brown eyes filled with wonderment.

"I actually got Cobweb's advice," Kelp said in a low voice, his heart beating a fast tattoo in his chest as he brought up the topic that filled him with both anticipation and apprehension.

"Advice? For?" Hunt asked, his light baritone huskier than usual.

"I want us to be bonded," Kelp said rather spontaneously. "We'll go sometime in spring, but I don't want to leave you. But the call of the stones and my kinshar is so strong," he lamented, a hand rubbing Hunt's back. "Would you go with us?"

To Kelp's surprise, Hunt gazed back steadily at him; he'd obviously been pondering that situation already.

"I care about you so much," he said, weaving his fingers into Kelp's hair and beginning to rub his scalp, an intimate act that Kelp loved nearly as much as taking aruna. "But I don't know that I can leave. I would be bound to you in a heartbeat- and we could visit each other. That would be hard on us both, though."

He paused to kiss Kelp before a it eased into a tender sharing of breath that caused tears to prick behind Kelp's eyelids and his ouana-lim to stir slightly.

"I've talked with Leegan about it a couple of times, and he said to heed the messages in my dreams, and also my heart," Hunt went on softly.

"What do they say?"

Kelp worried his lower lip until he realised he was doing so. He was regressing to his human habits in the face of losing or gaining what he considered to be a part of himself.

Hunt's face was a mask of regret. "I wish I knew. They're conflicted. I can't bear to leave you. We haven't been together long, but already I know without you, I'd feel as though part of me had been amputated."

"Then come with me! Say you will," Kelp begged. "Even your dehar visited me. He was so reassuring. It must have been a message for you, too," he said, planting dry kisses all along the refined architecture of Hunt's jaw.

"I can't assume that!" Hunt choked out. "This is so hard, Kelp. You're not leaving tomorrow; please don't try and force an answer one way or another from me right now. Either just hold me, or go away for a while. Maybe some time apart would give us both some clarity."

The words weren't said in anger or hurt, but Kelp felt a rush of panic and helplessness. It was like being held captive again, his world clothed in the mantle of a graveyard.

"Why is this so hard?" he croaked. "I'd give anything-"

"Kelp. Stop it."

Hunt's eyes were red, but his voice was steady. "Go to Blackspur or Ferngarn for the night. I need some time alone. If you would give me anything, then give me the solitude to think."

He kissed Kelp on the cheek and then drew back from him on the bed, removing his arm from Kelp's back to hold it curled up against his own chest. In silence Kelp got up from their bed, his limbs moving through the necessary motions to put on his cloak. After picking up a scarf and gloves, he exited their room without a backward glance. He headed for Ferngarn's telan, near the bottom of the path of homes and platform steps, off to the side a bit as it had been built new for him since their clan had arrived. Numbly Kelp sent out an energy feeler of sorts to find out whether or not his kinshar was there.

Kelp? Ferngarn said via mind-touch, his inner voice full of concern. Come in, please. What's wrong?

Kelp hung his head as he paused at the heavy canvas flap, sensing the heat and invitation from within. He was desperate to let out his anger and fear; a ride was what he needed, a long, hard gallop once out of the forest to exhaust both his horse and himself. He heard a rustling behind the door and wondered if Ferngarn had tied a knot in the bindings that held it shut. With a snap like a sail caught by the wind, Ferngarn whipped open his door, standing in the dim light and dressed for a nighttime ride. His platinum hair gleamed even though the dense growth above them kept out most moonlight; not only that, but the night was cloudy.

"I'm going with you," he said simply, clapping a hand to Kelp's shoulder before kneading it with his strong fingers. I can tell you're troubled, but you don't want to talk. That's fine. Should you change your mind, I'll be there at your side.

Nodding, Kelp looked into Ferngarn's eyes, grateful for the wisdom and kindness he saw there. It didn't stop him from being pissed off in general, though, so he turned and led the way to the woven ladder en route to the ground and the stables. They readied their horses and took a path not often used in recent weeks, the one which led out of the vast woods and to the valley beyond, the plains whence Cairn and his tribe had been travelling south a few months prior.

The night was shrouded in mystery; cold with dense shapes of mist wandering across the scrub. Heavy clouds resolutely hid the stars and moon, dampening all sources of light except those that played tricks on Kelp's eyes as he peered through the deceptive, shifting fog. As the woods began to thin, Kelp felt gooseflesh rise on his skin and the hairs on his neck prickled. He glanced over at Ferngarn and saw wariness in his grey eyes.

There's something - someone - out beyond the forest, Ferngarn said, confirming Kelp's suspicions.

They stopped, each straining to listen for any sounds they could recognise that would help them figure out who was encroaching on their woods. It was the scent which caught Kelp's attentions first: smoke. Seconds later, the focussed hatred and terror of a group of humans hurtled at him like a crashing wave. They didn't know what was in the forest, but they thought it was evil and should be burned to the ground.

"They're burning the woods!" Kelp yelled, fearful wrath scalding his throat like bile.

"I'll alert Cairn," Ferngarn said with deadly calm. "I think we'll need to use the fruits of your Grissecon to battle both fire and humans."

Kelp's stomach flipped as they urged their horses around and began as fast a gallop as they could back into the dense forest. Things had been so peaceful, he'd forgotten about the mysterious commingling of his seed with Petrichor's and what power it could unleash. Frankly, he didn't even know who had the phial; Cairn, probably, or Cobweb. He was newly thankful that Cairn and Leegan could work together to combat this unexpected assault on their home.

The ominous crackling of a widespread fire haunted him as they rode quickly back to the telani where he knew all the hara by now would be up and alert, awaiting any possible orders from their Warloch and Phylarch, respectively. They rode straight there, not bothering to stable their horses in case they would turn back around to go meet their attackers. Cairn must have heard Kelp's stampeding thoughts, because as he and Ferngarn slowed to a halt at the base of the largest tree, the Warloch shook his head.

"We'll engage our part of the battle from here," he said as Kelp threw his leg over and jumped down to dismount, his heart racing. "Cobweb, I need you to lead the chant, but get the phial from the Grissecon. You know where it is. Petrichor and Arbor, raise a brazier over there in that clearing. Put cedar chips and holly on top of embers out of my hearth. Get a small shovel to carry them. Hunt, you're good with fire; get one going in the brazier as soon as the supports are set in the ground. Time is not on our side."

Everyhar did as they were told. Those not given direct instruction stood out of the way, talking in hushed voices in groups of two or three. Soon the brazier was lit, the symbolic sacrificial greenery tossed on after the shovelful of whatever meaningful wood burned in Cairn's fireplace. Without being told, Kelp knew to join in the circle that formed organically around the crackling fire and the leaders of the ceremony, Cairn and Leegan. Cobweb's flutey voice began the chant, raising up into the high bower above them like potent incense. One by one the other hara joined in, Kelp reaching out to hold Hunt's hand as he added his voice to the growing chorus. Cairn and Leegan had their hands outstretched toward one another, the opalescent fluid now in an egg-shaped glass suspended in air, haloed in shimmering light which poured from the clan leaders' hands. Kelp felt he was one cell in a larger organism; one pebble on a stretch of beach.

Their voices rose as the colours of the Grissecon offering glowed blazingly white and then transformed to a velvety cerulean, the very essence of deep lake water. Up and out it gushed, an airborne, roiling, determined wave that flowed with intent toward the encroaching fire. Kelp wanted to laugh and cry with amazement; he could feel the strength in their combined power and intent. He knew not only would the waters quench the malevolent forest fire, but also the qualities infused in the water would rust the weapons of the humans who stood in wait, planning to enter as soon as they could bear the heat and kill any survivors.

An anguished cry tore his attentions away from the euphoria he could tell each har was also experiencing. Lochenfex had fallen backwards into an awkward heap and lay, trembling, his limbs jerking at odd angles as though he were a marionette being toyed with by a mad puppeteer. Thistle dropped to his knees beside him, his narrow hands hovering over the twitching har as he made soothing sounds. His dark brows furrowed while he evaluated what had happened to their newest kinshar who suddenly became motionless, only the fast rise and fall of his chest revealing the life still within him. Cairn and Leegan leaned upon each other, both looking drained and haggard from their outpouring of focussed energy.

"It was too much for him," Thistle bit out, trying to smooth Lochenfex's sweaty hair from his forehead. "He hadn't advanced enough in his caste training for something that intense."

All at once Kelp could tell that some kind of bond existed between them and he went to squeeze Hunt's hand for reassurance- but Hunt had moved away, his face inscrutable. He stood near Cobweb, who still harboured an inner radiance from the power of their chanting. The rapture that had swelled in Kelp drew away from him, a wave sinking back to be absorbed by the ocean.

"I'll go make sure the humans aren't going to give us any trouble," he said, trying to control the bewildering gyrations of his feelings. Not knowing Hunt's thoughts made Kelp feel as though there was nothing solid beneath his feet, it was all shifting sand.

"You're not going alone," Valecho declared, looking squarely at him, but pausing before he approached.

Kelp was certain that there were several conversations racing via mind-touch, but he was too out of sorts even to try and intercept any of them.

"You're not going at all," Cairn said sternly, though Kelp could see the compassion in his expression. "You're needed here to help Lochenfex onto a stretcher and raise up him to the telani. Petrichor, you and Perifen go and make a sweep of the area at the edge of the forest. If you feel you need to keep watch, do so and send word."

He straightened up and began speaking to Leegan in low tones that nohar else could hear. Kelp was momentarily insulted; flashes of anger bursting in him like small explosions, when he caught himself playing with the amulet Petrichor had given him in his first days with the tribe. Its smooth cabochon surface soothed him, and he allowed himself to be swept up into the flurry of concentrated activity and engineering involved to get Lochenfex safely lifted up to the tree-dwellings. There the most skilled healer from each clan would work together hopefully to find a way for the poor har's full recovery.

Lochenfex looked terrible; ashen skin, his breath coming in short gasps; otherwise he was as still as a piece of dusty marble lying on the ground. Thistle continued to try and comfort him, his long legs folded up underneath him as he laid his hands on Lochenfex's chest, almost oblivious to the whirlwind of activity in which Kelp found himself. He made himself useful by assisting in hoisting Lochenfex up to the main floor of the bottom telan. Soon he was no longer needed, and out of habit his feet took him up to the room he shared with Hunt. It was cold and dark; he couldn't bear it. They were on the threshold of a lifetime together, or, unbelievably, a last period of daily, beloved companionship before this was only another current flowing away in the rushing waters of his life.

Kelp resolved to get roaring drunk; Arbor would have plenty of the strong liquor they distilled, and he was understanding without having a history with Kelp, so he was objective. In a fit of romanticism, he took off the silver chain and amulet which he always wore and placed it on Hunt's pillow. If he returned and put it on, it would mean that Hunt had decided to bind himself to Kelp. If he returned it, Kelp could count on moving on with his kinshar, on his own. With a last, hasty plea to Gwynswyth to beg Hunt's dehar for a positive outcome, he left the room and plodded down the winding steps to Arbor and drunken solace.