He punched, and the rough wood splintered beneath his knuckles. Feeling a small, vindictive thread of pleasure run through him, he paused, panting, and smiled for a moment. Still perfect, as always.
He lifted his fists, uncurled his gloved hands, and gazed at them. He could put out a candle at twenty paces with such hands, just by punching in its general direction. He could tear through a man's ribcage like a sledgehammer through matchwood. He could knock down a house in two blows, a brick wall in one. He had the hands of a warrior.
And all he really wanted was to push those hands through silken jet-black hair.
He sighed, and turned around to lean against the tree trunk, lifting one of his ever-so-powerful hands to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead. He could beat down every tree in the forest and it wouldn't make him feel any better. It wouldn't take back the things that had been said, the mistakes he'd made. It wouldn't win him Marron's regard.
He winced at the sudden stab of hurt that came with the thought. Over and over he'd tried to understand, to put the situation within some kind of comprehensible boundaries, and he'd failed. He didn't understand why Marron had refused him, not once but three times. And Marron wouldn't tell him why. It didn't make sense. He wasn't blind; and he'd seen enough lustful gazes directed at himself to know when he was desired. And it was more than mere lust; after six years of fighting side by side, he knew that he'd managed to earn Marron's respect and friendship. Even, to a degree, his trust.
But not enough, he reminded himself, bitterly. And not more than that.
Sighing again, he pushed himself away from the tree, briefly considered knocking it down to vent his pique, and finally decided against it. Instead he schooled his expression, straightened, and returned to the clearing where the others were waiting, sitting around the morning fire.
"Gateau-san." Tira looked up and smiled when he stepped through the bushes. "We were just about to go looking for some food. Marron-san usually does that, but..." she spread her hands.
He pushed aside the twinge that came at the mention of Marron's name, and forced a smile. "You know I'm terrible at hunting. I'll chop some wood."
Chocora stretched languorously on her bedroll, yawning and sitting up. "Where is he, anyway? What's with all the secrecy? I know Marron's close-lipped, but this is weird even for him."
Carrot shrugged with a nonchalance that fooled no one and tossed a few more sticks onto the fire. "He wouldn't even tell me. Just said he'd be back in three days. Go figure."
"Do you know where he went, Gateau-san?" Tira looked up at him, her glasses glinting in the morning light. He felt himself start, and scowled.
"How the hell would I know? If he wouldn't tell his own brother, he sure wouldn't tell me. Why are you asking me?"
It was too hastily-spoken and too loud, and he knew it the moment he'd said it. To his mortification, the two sisters exchanged a knowing look, then pointedly went back to whatever they had been doing. He ground his teeth and folded his arms, looking away sullenly.
Only to find himself being observed. Carrot was watching him, his brown eyes sharper than usual; after a moment Carrot lowered his eyes to the fire again. Gateau started again, feeling a momentary flicker of unease.
"Ja," he said, covering his discomfort with nonchalance. He turned to head out of the clearing. "I'll go find the wood."
He hadn't gotten far when he heard Carrot call his name from behind.
Reluctantly he turned, stopping to wait for the other man to catch up. Carrot's expression was unusually serious when he stepped through the underbrush, and he was silent for a long moment, groping for somewhere to begin. Finally, he shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Okay. What's going on, between you two?"
Gateau folded his arms, sighing heavily; he wasn't in the mood for this. "Who two?"
"Don't pull that crap with me, Gateau; only people who don't know you fall for it." Carrot scowled, then looked away, clearly uneasy. "I know you... like Marron. In... more than a friendly way." He shook his head, flushing inexplicably. "He said something happened between you and him, but he wouldn't tell me what."
Gateau regarded him evenly, keeping his expression neutral, but behind the mask he could feel anger rising, roiling, seeking an outlet. A capricious urge to lash out at Carrot---at anyone, really, but Carrot was handy---was building in him, and he tightened his jaw to keep control of it. "So you decided to completely disrespect his privacy and ask me. Fine. You want the details?" He smiled, feeling no humor, only a dangerous kind of momentary cruelty. "Six months ago, that time we went to the Sakura celebration, your little brother and I went off into the orchard alone. I kissed him." Carrot flinched, and Gateau's smile widened. "He didn't mind. Things got pretty heavy... we were both half-drunk. We were both half-naked and on the ground before either of us knew what was happening."
Carrot looked torn between revulsion and anger, but he set his jaw and met Gateau's eyes evenly. "And?"
And. He felt his anger slip and begin to fade; whatever pleasure he'd taken in twisting the knife in Carrot couldn't stand against the ache that came with remembering. He sighed, bleakly.
"And---nothing. He stopped me, pushed me off him, and ran away."
He tried and failed to keep away the memory of Marron's expression that day as he'd wrenched himself away from Gateau. Shaken, understandably, by what had nearly happened. Almost frightened. Guilty.
"He went back to the rest of you and fell asleep. After a while, I did, too. When we woke up, it seemed like he'd forgotten all of it. So I pretended I'd forgotten, too."
Carrot sighed, running his fingers through his short hair. "There are... some things a guy doesn't want to know about his little brother, Gateau. Or... his friends." He glared at Gateau, then sighed. "I'm worried about him. He's been stranger than usual, lately, and I want to know why." He folded his arms again, resolute. "Okay, this whole... episode... in the cherry orchard was six months ago. What's happened lately? He hasn't been like this for six months."
Oh, nothing much, whispered Gateau's mind. He'd just made a complete fool of himself.
He silenced the small voice, ruthlessly. "I finally got tired of pretending. So---a few days ago, when we stopped at the inn at that last town we visited, I went to his room, and we talked. Turns out he did remember, after all. So... I told him how I felt about him."
He shrugged, nonchalantly, feeling anything but indifferent. He would never tell this little fool about the weeks he'd lain sleepless at night, wrestling with himself, torn between longing and fear.
"He listened."
Marron would never interrupt anyone. Gateau had been speaking in a torrent, spilling his guts in a shameful, unmanly display that he hadn't been able to stop.
"And then he told me that there could never be anything between us." He shrugged again. "So I left. That was that."
"I can't, Gateau-san. I'm so sorry." So polite. So understanding. So gentle.
Carrot stared at him in silent consternation. He looked embarrassed. Gateau looked back at Carrot and felt an instant of pure, withering contempt.
"So. Got enough of the truth now? Or too much for your tastes?" He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone; it was too hard to try.
Carrot winced at Gateau's tone and ran his hand through his hair again. "I think you know the answer to that." He shook his head, ruefully. "So that's what he's been dealing with. Maybe that's why he's come back here, then." He looked around at the forest, then up at the mountain.
Gateau blinked in surprise. "What do you mean? You know why he's here?"
Carrot smiled, only a little of it reaching his eyes. "No. I'm just guessing. I'm not sure, but... I think might be... the place where he learned his magic."
Gateau stared at him, anger momentarily forgotten. "I thought your mother taught him his magic."
"No. Kaasan taught him the basics, same as she taught Tira. But when he was ten, she and my father told me he needed more training than they could give him, so they took him away." He paused, then smiled, and added with a touch of melodrama, "To a school of magic."
Gateau inhaled in surprise. "So that's it..." Then he frowned. "But why wouldn't he tell us about it, if all he's doing is going back to the school?"
"I don't know." Carrot shook his head, expression abruptly bleak. "Maybe he took an oath of secrecy, or something. I don't know. I can't figure out how he thinks anymore. He was gone for four years, when we were kids. Before he left he was just... ordinary. The kind of kid others picked on and beat up. Because he looked like a girl, see. I always had to protect him. But when he came back... he was different." He paused, for just a moment, frowning. "He didn't need me anymore. He came back powerful, but it was more than that. He came back... strong. Inside, you know? He never asked me questions anymore. He already knew all the answers. He wasn't the Marron I remembered." He fell silent, suddenly, his eyes reflecting long-simmering pain.
Gateau absorbed all of this, musing. "So you think the school where he did his training is around here."
"I don't know." Carrot shook his head, looking around. "It's just something I thought about. If it's here, it must be hidden, or we'd have seen some sign of it by now." He sighed, the melancholy returning for a moment. "I never thought he'd keep secrets from me. But... something happened to him, while he was at the school. More than just learning magic. I don't know what. But I feel it."
He fell silent, and Gateau shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms.
After a moment, Carrot pulled himself from his reverie, to fix a stern gaze on Gateau. "I wasn't expecting this whole business with him and you." He shook his head and ran fingers through his hair. Why---" He cut off and looked away, jaw set.
Gateau folded his arms, feeling the old anger again, the dangerous feeling, dancing just beneath the surface of his carefully schooled expression. He kept his voice deliberately soft. "Why what?"
The other man's expression contorted, concern for his brother warring with deeper, uglier feelings, in his face. He turned and began to pace, rapidly, each step quick and angry. "Why him, Gateau? Why not Mirufi or somebody? Marron.. he has... weaknesses. I was hoping he'd grow out of them, but..." Abruptly he rounded on Gateau with an accusing glare. "I won't let you... pervert him, damn it."
Gateau held himself very still, resisting the hot, savage urge to grab Carrot and beat him until he died. Instead---with an effort---he made himself laugh, harshly. "Baka yarou. You don't know him at all, do you?" Carrot stared back at him, frowning, and Gateau smiled, coldly and viciously. "Your little brother's known about his 'perverted tastes' since he was ten. He told me that once while you were off chasing everything in a skirt. You're just figuring it out?
Carrot flinched as if struck, staring at Gateau in silent, bright hatred. And interestingly enough, Gateau felt better.
He turned on his heel and walked out of the clearing, leaving Marron's brother to his thoughts. Such as they were.
He had said everything wrong, done everything wrong, and the worst had happened. Gateau was gone, and there was no healing the rift between them.
Marron pushed himself up from the log and walked over to a tree, propping his arm against it. He'd been caught completely off-guard by Gateau's advance on the day of the Sakura celebration---and that, he knew, had been his own fault. He should have known better than to take the cup of sake Chocora had pushed on him. He should have suspected something when Gateau had suddenly invited him for a walk in the orchard. He should have had enough willpower to resist when Gateau had first begun his attempt at seduction, instead of allowing things to progress as far as they had. He should have addressed the issue right away, instead of pretending it hadn't happened. He should have expected Gateau's recent confession.
And he should have simply told Gateau the truth.
Should have, would have, could have. There were a thousand things he might have done differently.
He sighed and pushed himself away from the tree, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. Perhaps later, he could talk to Gateau, smooth things over between them. Somehow. But for now, there were other, more important things to occupy his attention.
It was already nearly noon. He'd have to hurry.
He set out, walking up the barely-visible trail that led up the mountain, trying to clear his mind and calm his spirit in preparation for the ritual. For a few moments he managed admirably.
Until, unbidden, another face came into Marron's mind, and the small measure of calm he'd managed to achieve evaporated instantly.
It had been seven years. So much could have changed.
He stopped for a moment, turning to look out at the valley, visible through the trees and sloping down from the mountain path. So much had already changed, for him. Years of fighting and struggling as a Sorcerer Hunter, risking his life again and again... the time should have flown. But despite all of that, the last seven years had crawled by, feeling more like forever.
And it was all because of him.
When the time is right... come back to me. I'll wait.
The ache in his chest. The dreams. There had been times, dangerous times, when he had hardly been able to keep his mind on the mission at hand. Times when he'd been cold even to Carrot because it wasn't his brother's face he wanted to see. Times when he'd awakened in the middle of the night literally trembling with formless, inarticulate desires that he couldn't quench. It was part of the training, he knew, and understood it; if he couldn't maintain mental focus under the most distracting or emotional conditions, he didn't deserve to progress any further than he had. But it had been hard, to wait. Harder still to deal with the fears that inevitably crept into his mind whenever he let his guard down.
Like now. He turned and resumed his hike, sighing to himself.
The mental exercises weren't working. Perhaps there was nothing to be done, then, but let his memories run their course, and try to use them as best he could. They could help him focus, by reminding him of why he'd come.
Both reasons.
Quick, light touches with shaking hands. A low moan: passion, so unexpected from one who habitually made an art out of concealing his emotions. Tasting the source of that moan, a mouth sweet and wet, hints of sake and cherries and hunger in his breath. A slender body beneath his own, trembling as he undressed it, writhing as he caressed it, full of such eagerness that he moved quickly to appease it and himself, stroking the long and graceful legs, coaxing them apart, slipping fingers between them to tease and explore and prepare---
Gateau drove his fist hard against the trunk of the tree, and watched as it splintered apart. He stepped back, panting, stopping only when his back pressed against another tree. Before him, the tree he'd struck groaned like the dying thing it was and slowly toppled over. It didn't fall far; in this part of the forest the tree-canopy was thick, and the trunks crowded. It listed heavily against another tree and then stopped, showering leaves to the ground, but nothing more. The forest birds went silent, as if in anticipation of a fall that would never come.
Damn. It would have satisfied him greatly to watch it crash to the ground and lie motionless and broken. It would have satisfied him much more to imagine Carrot in its place.
It was just as well, he mused, bleakly. The tree was probably a better symbolic representation of his sex life, lately. Fantasy life. He glanced down at the prominent lump at the front of his jeans, and sighed. It was amazing, how resilient the body could be, when the heart could be shattered so easily and so well.
"Timber," he muttered dryly. Nearby, a few more leaves drifted to the forest floor.
Marron stopped, blinking, as intuition told him that he was near his goal.
He looked around and nodded to himself, seeing the wards carefully worked into the bark of a tree, arranged in seemingly random stones on the ground. He raised and clasped his hands, murmured a chant to focus his will, and sent a delicate pulse of energy out from himself toward the wards, identifying himself and letting them know that he was coming. They probably knew already, but it was always good to be polite.
The wards glowed faintly for a second, and then went quiescent, allowing him to pass. He smiled, pleased as always when a working went smoothly, and walked a few meters forward, holding out his hand. Sure enough, his fingers stopped against an invisible, barely-tangible barrier. It felt like nothing he'd ever been able to clearly describe. Thick air. Solid warmth. Either way, it was impervious to all but the most powerful offensive magic and would react with alarm and an array of defensive spells if attacked. It would admit him only because he was familiar, and expected.
He smiled again, withdrew his hand, and summoned his aura, blue-white and unwavering. Touching fingers again to the barrier, he sent a single thought through its substance, along with the clear and unique signature of his mental and spiritual self.
[It's Marron. I'm back.]
The barrier shimmered and dissolved to reveal the gateway: huge bronze doors, each easily three times the height of a tall man, covered in arcane symbols and intricate wardings artfully worked into the metal to create an aesthetically pleasing symmetry.
Once, the symbols had been simply beautiful, to him. Now he gazed at them, reading every symbol of their warding and understanding the subtle and powerful ways in which each interacted with the other. Eleven years made all the difference.
Then, raising his hand to one of the circles provided for that purpose, he knocked, once.
And the gates began to open.
Topaza blinked and looked up, startled. He glanced over at Garunetto. "I just felt something. Their shielding slipped aside for a moment. I was afraid they'd realized we were here, but then the shielding closed again. Someone may have left the compound."
Garunetto was silent for a moment, thinking. "If so... there's only one way out of this valley, and we're coming in through it. Have Torumarin spread a net, so that we can catch anything that comes our way, and send Carunirian's contingent out to see if we can find anyone else in this valley besides us and the school." He smiled a little. "We might be able to get a little advance intelligence out of any captives."
"Hai." Swiftly, Topaza rose to go and set the orders in motion.
**End Ch. 2