Staring at the sun
By FireDreamer

Note: This is original story, all characters...even the legendary ones in this..belong to me and my imagination. This is one of my Morgane stories, but he does not feature in this as he has in so many of the other ones. Since those stories with him in them are not available to the general public I shall just say that Morgan Learu Hates the cold and this place is the North..Their world is a post apoclyptic one but no one knows, nor do they care. It's not a story point in this one.

Uhm..please comment. And If you like this story, please try to read my other stories as well. I write a variety of stories, and the more I actually get comments on them the more encouraging it is to write more.

"And the great warrior..." Lucan gestured as he told the story to the group of children sitting at his feet. Only the younger children would accept being taught by a non-fighter that wasn't female. The only thing the loud brats would listen to was stories, they didn't have attention spans until they grew older. They learned how to be strong from the ancient heroes Lucan spoke of.

"Why can girls fight too?" A small child asked. "They're weaker..."

"Don't ever let my mother hear you say that," Lucan said, laughing. "Let me tell you about the woman she was named after, Marta Breo. Now Marya Elise was a woman like many other here, strong, and with three children to her name already after surviving only twenty- two winters. That winter, it was much colder than the winters we have now you know, anyway. It was so cold outside, the air could make a man's nose freeze and be infected with the cold rot... Marta, was Marya Elise's sister. Though she was strong, she had chosen, against custom, to remain out of men's beds. She claimed it was not yet the time...."

The occasional adult stopped to listen to him tell the story of how the warriors had gone to find meat to keep the people strong, and the raiding party had come. Marta had organized the women and led them against the raiders, successfully saving the children, and not losing a single life in the process. This had convinced the Justice of the time to declare women just as capable warriors, and forced society to accept this new concept.

Derian raised an eyebrow at the subject of Lucan's story. Marta Breo was this city's patron goddess, and held a special significance to Lucan himself. She was the goddess that emphasized the triumph of the weak over adversity, and proved that even people such as Lucan had their place.

Where all the other men in the city were strong, Lucan was not. He couldn't use the weapons the fighters relied on, save for knives. He couldn't draw a bow, much less see to fire it, and his other weapon skills were worse than most children's.

Still, there was a strength in his eyes, and an intelligence that intimidated Derian oftentimes. His coloring didn't fit with the rest of the area, and Marta claimed his and his twin, Sybil's, father was southern. Lucan had his mother's eyes though, brown, like hers. Derian didn't know where in the south his father had come from to give him such pale hair. Sybil's hair was slightly darker, with a pale golden tint to it. Lucan's hair was white-grey, and had almost blue highlights. Derian was reminded of the stories of the ghostly Morgan Learu, with his snowy hair, but according to the legends, Morgan was a great warrior as well as spell caster.

Lucan could only cast simple spells, excelling in healing arts. Morgan was said to make a man fall over dead with a glance.

Lucan was great at the small amount of weaving and mending that was required in the town, and earned his keep by mending, teaching, and tending to the sick. He was treated as a non-person, and a joke by many though.

He looked up at Derian, and smiled, and launched into the next tale almost immediately.

Lucan tensed as the icy water engulfed his body, glad that he wasn't had the sense to shed his clothing, unlike many others, who thought, in this unseasonably warm spring they would clean clothes and body. The water forced the air out of his lungs and he surfaced, coughing. "That was not fair, Sybil! Not fair at all." He had not been ready to go into the water yet.

Sybil laughed, her back turned to him, pale hair shining in the midday sun. "It was not me, however unfair it was. I wouldn't want to see you soaked and bare." She was sitting against a tree, knotting together threads stolen from Lucan's sewing basket.

"You are the only one here."

"Am I?"

A blur of movement was at Lucan's side, and he braced himself for the inevitable splash of water. A wave of water hit the side of his face.

"This water isn't that cold." Derian said, surfacing. "It's rather nice."

"Derian, I don't even need to see you to know it's you. You're the only one that would push a tortured person into the water."

Lucan gasped as Derian's arms encircled his waist and the taller man pressed against his back, leaning his chin on Lucan's shoulder. "You couldn't see me unless I was close enough to your face to bite off your nose."

"I'm a little better than that." Lucan said defensively. He was sensitive about his vision. Most everyone else could see far away, but Lucan couldn't see anything more than a person away. They blamed it on book learning, but he had always been this bad as far as he could remember. Derian could spot something practically on the other side of the forest. Lucan couldn't see the other side of the forest, unless he was in it. "You listened to some of my stories today."

Derian bit at Lucan's shoulder, and Lucan bit his lip to keep from moaning out loud. Sybil would turn to see if he did that. He shared many things with his twin, including Derian's affections, but he would much rather not share them at the same time. "That must have strained your eyes." Derian teased.

"Terribly, as if one can't see your wild hair over Derian wasn't someone he could presume to control, and Lucan was quite sure no one could. Sybil and Lucan never talked about it, but they both knew that Derian would come to them separately, Neither denied him. Sybil would do anything for him, and bearing a chief's son's child would be a tremendous honor for her.

Lucan never resisted because just the thought of Derian made him react with things lower than his brain. Lucan swore he would not fall in love. Derian was Stephan's son, and would never live long. That Stephan had made it to last 35 years with them was amazing, and almost unheard of.

Everyone was nagging and encouraging Derian to stay with the women anyway. Strong blood had to be passed on. Lucan had never done anything with a girl, but he had bad vision, and his weakness was undesirable. No woman would want him. He personally had no idea what he'd do with one.

Lucan heard movement on the shore and tensed. Derian licked up the side of his neck. Lucan didn't much care for the licking, but he was terribly ticklish right there. He tried to pull away, but Derian only let him turn around. "Sybil left." Those two words, combined with the look in his eyed, which were now visible to Lucan, made him shiver.

"You are mine."

Lucan looked away and nodded.

Lucan pulled aside the doorway to his family's home and a small body hit him head on. "Lucan! You missed dinner!"

He sighed and pried Charsi off of his legs. "It's okay. I wasn't hungry."

"Good! I ate it!"

Lucan smiled. Charsi would eat anything that wasn't claimed first. "How would I ever get food anyway?" Charsi giggled and pulled at one of Lucan's braids. "Evil little imp..." Lucan would have picked Charsi up and tortured the boy for being so silly, but he wasn't strong enough to pick up a boy nearly his height. Charsi probably was heavier than him as well, Lucan knew he had no strength to speak of, and Charsi was already a leader amongst his age group. Marta still hadn't revealed who his father was, and Charsi had her looks, while Lucan and Sybil looked like their father. Or at least Lucan was told he did. He had never met the man, southerner that he was, he had left long before Marta had known she was going to birth twins.

Marta liked to call Lucan her changeling child, because of how different he was from her.

No one called Derian such things, he was perfect.

Lucan ruffled Charsi's hair with his hands and made his way to his corner, where he thought he saw a person sitting.

"Lucan, you're home rather late." Marta.

Lucan shrugged. "Derian wouldn't let me go home."

"You say his name in your sleep. I'm worried about you." She clasped one of his hands in her rough worn ones. "I know what he does to you, even a chief's son can not take a person against their will. Remember that."

Lucan could not meet the blurry eyes of his mother. He stared at the ground beneath his feet, trying to make sense of it. "It's not...It's not against my will. He does not hurt me, and I would do anything for him."

"Some people would envy you your status with him."

"I have no status with him. I'm simply a diversion." Lucan winced, he sounded more bitter about that than he wanted her to know.

Marta stood and embraced her son. "Oh, my poor little changeling, you love him don't you?"

Lucan carefully poured a small amount of water on each of the plants, it hadn't rained for days, and to have his garden dry was not a good thing. He chanted a small healing spell over a rather sickly looking plant and touched the leaves. If he wasn't useful to his people as a warrior, then he was bound and determined to be useful somehow.

"You must really care for those plants."

"They're important to everyone. See, this one keeps a cut from getting infected. But you probably want this one, it helps with hangovers." Lucan turned and smiled at Derian. "You did come because you are sick from drinking again didn't you?"

Derian stared at Lucan, not saying anything for a few long moments. Just when Lucan was getting nervous Derian closed his eyes. "Damned bitch was right."

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about Derian." Lucan picked up his water bucket. "I've plants to attend to, walk with me?"

Derian followed quietly while Lucan walked amongst his neat rows of tiny plants, pulling weeds with pale slender fingers, and darkening the soil with the cold clean water. "Charsi is almost as tall as me, did you notice? The little imp will soon be torturing me with the older children..."

At Derian's silence he continued, nervously. "It certainly is warm isn't it? This kind of weather hasn't occurred as long as I can remember, what about you? You're young, but do you remember anything like this?"

"Lucan?"

"Yes?" Lucan moved to face Derian again, and jumped back a little, he hadn't realized the other man had been so close. Derian grabbed his arms and Lucan dropped the nearly empty bucket, and it rolled into the grass near the edge of the garden.

Derian opened his mouth as if to say something, but then thought the better of it and closed it again. He traced his hand along Lucan's jaw line.

"Please, not here." Lucan whispered. "Anyone could see."

Derian touched Lucan's lips. "She accused me of loving you. That bitch of a woman you call mother." He laughed, a sound that had no joy in it. "She was right." He blinked away tears, and glanced around to see if there were people watching.

Lucan looked at him confused. "Is that a problem?"

Derian closed his eyes. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"With the raiding party." Lucan finished, and Derian nodded, dark red hair glimmering in the sunlight. Lucan shook his head. "I'd ask to come with you, but..."

"You'd be a burden to the party. You can't run, and you can't fight."

"I'm competent with a knife." Lucan sighed, he wasn't even fooling himself, much less Derian.

"But weak enough that our children beat you nearly daily. You forget, I've seen the bruises on you. I know."

"When will you be back?"

"If all goes well, before midsummer." He pulled Lucan towards the woods. "We have to start making up for the time."

Lucan shook his hands free from Derian's. "Let me put the bucket away first. There's always time to do mending."

Derian followed Lucan back to the house, where his mother was watching children, as they played their mock battles.

She looked up at them and smiled sadly. She knew what it was like to have a loved one go off into a raiding party. She didn't say anything when Lucan returned the bucket to it's proper place and Derian dragged him off.

Lucan followed Derian to the ocean's edge, and Derian pulled the heavy cloak off of him, and spread it by the rocks. This was one of Derian's favorite places. He touched a new bruise on Lucan's shoulder. "I'm not going to know you anymore when I return, I shall have to memorize you now."