There were stormclouds gathering in the distant mountains; the cool, dry air molecules scrubbing together to produce massive charges of static electricity.

The impending storm had little to do with the scene unfolding in a certain camp, some fifty-odd miles removed from the hills, but they make for a nice set-up, don't you think?

"Do you have everything, Jamie?" Lyla smiled at her brother, hands clasped behind her back. Nomi and Jo flanked her... All three of them looked awfully pleased with themselves.

He gave them a grin, nodding. I think I do." He's quiet, looking down and regaining his usual solemn demeanor. "We'll come back, some time."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Of _course_ you will. Now, close your eyes and hold out your hands."

"Why?"

"Because we have something for you, silly!" Nomi poked at his ribs.

"Right... Sorry, I've just been...distracted..."

The girls snickered. "We know. Now, close your eyes!"

The young man did as bidden, wondering if Beej had gotten the same treatment.

Nomi looked from Lyla to Jo, nodded, and set a small wooden box into his outstretched hands. "Okay, you can look, now."

The young man blinks at the box, then looks to his compatriots. "Do I open it now, or later?"

The girls confer, murmuring so that he only caught parts of words and the ends of phrases... Had that been 'Beej'? and 'much later'? Jo grins at him. "We think later, like after you make camp for the night."

He frowns at his son, giving the young man that stood next to him a darker look. "What is it?" The curt words are nothing but irritated.

James draws himself up to his full height, face calm. "Goodbye, father."

"Goodbye? Where do you think you're going?" Surely the boy isn't -serious-. He's far too cowardly to do anything like _leaving_...

"I'm leaving, with Blackwater." His voice wasn't the world's steadiest, but the words are mild, a statement of facts immutable.

"What? You're a terrible liar. Don't you have chores to be doing?" Skeptical, scowling, dangerous anger beginning to stir.

"He's going with me, sir. I'm paid for, and besides, I've got routes of my own to start. Safe travels." Blackwater finishes with a slight bow, linking his arm through James' and turning, striding away...

The escarpment wasn't very high- twenty feet at the uppermost portion. The rocks and bleached wood scattered along the base of the wall suggested that, in less arid times, water flowed along here. A suitable spot for camping...

So...so right.. Like a key to a lock, a perfect fit... Skin to skin, mouth to mouth...

Heat. Whether from the fire or passion, he couldn't tell.

Pleasure welling up, back bowing from it....

The loving warmth enfolding him in orangy dying-ember bliss....

And then onto him- them
-fell a shadow of ill portent,
black as a superfund site.

He froze.

Gods, he'd not...

 

 

 

Anger, and a bone-deep
sorrow sucked the heat
from him, swallowed the
air from his lungs...

The forgotten name made for an inarticulate cry in the night. Blackwater blinks, closing his mouth and trying to get his breathing back to normal. The heat had been leached from him, leaving an icy sweat in its wake. The fact that the blankets had been stolen and kicked off didn't help, either... Faint light from somewhere showed that he'd worked his way to the very edge of the bed, his lover curled up tight near the headboard. Shivering slightly, Beej moves back from the precipice, then leans over to retrieve the blankets. Who had he been dreaming about? It hadn't been Neets, which unsettled him.

Once he'd gotten the blankets around himself, he looked across the short, dim space to the other bed. He detested having to hide... This was a small but important stop, though, so the other bed's covers got rumpled. What did it matter, whether or not- He sits up, running a hand through his hair. The last time he'd had a dream like this was in a similar situation...

A struggle. Pain. Someone in authority... No? Wait- He couldn't -see-. What was going on? Someone was coughing, trying to say something... And that other one, the one that was screaming, who were they? Their throat was going to-

Gasping, he clamps a hand over his mouth, turning the cry that tensed his vocal cords into a low moan... Blackwater's face was wet. Why? Another of those dreams... And the bed certainly felt- Oh. Shaking his head at himself, he unsteadily clambers back into bed, murmuring reassuring nonsense in answer to Neets' sleepy query. Something about the changing seasons... He couldn't _remember_, though.

Something -important- about this time of year, but not _now_. Sometime soon, though. About the only significant events scheduled for the coming months was the big MaiFaire in Bellaine/Lowren and his birthday. More that that, wasn't there? Oh, yes, The Festival Of The Saint Of Green, and then Resurrection Day, and after -those- came MaiFaire and his birthday. Right.

Sighing softly, he put an arm over the warm body next to him and closed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened last year at that time...

He couldn't think of a single person, male or female, that he'd had more than a passing aesthetic interest in within the last eight months. Well, okay, there was that girl in Mirinwell, but he'd never gotten her name and besides -that-, he'd met Neets a scant two weeks later and had his entire world upset.

Neets. He looked over the top of his book (which he wasn't reading anyhow), a smile pulling at his mouth as he watched the young man, who was putting the final touches on a freshly polished boot. There was most of his concern over these dreams, a few yards away...