Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dragons and Yaoi ❯ Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ characters. I'm not getting any profit from this fanfiction work.

Warnings: Yaoi (male x male). Mirai Trunks x Gohan. Bishounen (`pretty boy'). Absolute OOC.

 

The summary: This is a Fantasy world. A completely new world with new creatures. This is an adventure story spiced by yaoi. Some sci-fi.

Gohan is a warrior, a freely hired man who takes on almost all jobs possible. One day he is hired to convoy a rich man and other people who belong to the group to the city of Angus.

Mirai Trunks…you'll figure this out as soon as you start reading. Long lavender hair…

 

Dragons and Yaoi

 

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by achillona

 

Part 2

 

Gohan looked around in the kitchen, observing everyone present. He knew everyone now, and, although several times he got the names confused, he already knew their characteristics well enough - one developed such qualities to be able to survive under the circumstances he lived.

 

Athara wasn't here. He hadn't seen the young man since that episode on the deck, but Yakusho approached Gohan the day before and thanked him for the herbs. He said that Athara was resting. No wonder, after what he had seen - the man needed to rest. Actually he wanted to see Athara - he was curious. And not only because of a face like that as if from a painting; after that short conversation he had with the young man, Gohan believed that Athara had quite an interesting personality.

 

Gohan raised his mug to his mouth to sip his beer. The group wasn't too bad. It wasn't very friendly, but it wasn't supposed to be friendly - it was good enough that they didn't try to rob or slit each others' throats. It was more about teamwork, and it seemed to work.

 

Actually he found it quite interesting to interact with several persons. But he avoided Kiasho - the sorcerer quickly lost the good mood he had earlier, and Gohan was quick to notice that Kiasho was looking for any kind, even the simplest reason, to beat someone up. He and Wadra, the refined lady, as Kiasho had so eloquently labeled her, were on the brink of killing each other, but the others, especially Foitimus and Darius, were well aware of the tension and kept Kiasho at bay.

 

Actually it was the first time Gohan had ever witnessed sorcerers and mages work together as a team. He found that disturbing: he didn't quite understand magic and felt very shifty about it, and he, like most “normal” humans, from time to time had nightmares as to what would happen if one day sorcerers and mages united their power. There had been several tries to do that before, and all of them ended with many useless deaths of innocent people. Already in his home town of Vartua, he had a perfect example of what almost happened when the mages took over. But fortunately the sorcerers refused to cooperate with them at that time.

 

But there was a prophecy, one of many. Some oracles were rambling about a man who would unite sorcerers and mages. Everyone would follow that man. They claimed that that man would found a new city, a city of sorcerers and mages. And from there his power would reach the whole world. Sorcerers and mages would reign. And the morons were claiming that was going to happen very soon. In this century, to be exact.

 

Gohan crossed his legs and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. As if. He had never believed in such bullshit.

 

There was a loud shout, then suddenly the ship shook, and Gohan found himself flying into a wall. His mug with the rest of his drink shortly followed him. After his back collided painfully with a cupboard, he dropped to the floor. Drawing his sword, he jumped and rushed to the door and up onto the deck with the rest of the somewhat dazed team.

 

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.”

 

Gohan quickly followed Jahira's look out into the sea. After seeing what the red-haired mage's eyes were locked on, he would have repeated the words, but couldn't close his mouth.

 

“What the fuck is that?!” Wadra shouted, drawing her two swords. She ran to the broadside.

 

“We are fucking going to die…” Danira groaned, rushing to her friend. She squeezed the handle of her battleaxe desperately while trying not to slip onto ship's wet surface while the ship was being jolted and jounced.

 

“Everyone aside!” Kiasho roared, banging his way through the gaping crowd. “Where the fuck are Delaros and Darius?!”

 

“I'm here!” Darius ran to Kiasho.

 

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” Delaros cursed while running upstairs. As he never cursed, it meant it was bad. He was at Kiasho's and Darius' side after a moment.

 

“Estimation?” Kiasho asked, looking back at the sea.

 

“Ten points,” Delaros cursed again. “Raise the shields! Quickly! ” He started giving out orders as panicky sailors ran around in fear. “Jahira, Yakusho, try to blast it!”

 

Gohan felt electrical shivers running up and down his body, the hair on his nape stood up - the mages and sorcerers were summoning energy. The various colors of Tarrus signs started flashing on the mages' and sorcerers' foreheads. He would have been very surprised after it had appeared that Delaros himself was a Master Sorcerer, but he had no time for that.

 

“What was that…?” Athara climbed up the stairs. His mouth fell open.

 

“Get him out of here!” Delaros shouted, giving a short look to Athara, noticing the young man gaping at the sea.

 

“Go back to your cabin!” Kiasho shoved Athara down the stairs, almost making Athara tumble after he lost his balance.

 

There was horror on Athara's face when he turned his head around to again stare at the fuming sea. He had never seen anything like this before: and whatever the creature was, it was clear that it wasn't a natural thing. No natural thing bore a burning control sign on its forehead. Someone had sent this creature after them.

 

It was huge, ten or more times bigger than their ship. Athara wasn't sure what it was. It had the form of a human, red skin loosely clinging to its skeletal structure, with various spikes protruding out of the creature's entire body, and the cloven tongue in its mouth made the hair on Athara's nape rise.

 

Athara guessed that the crash that threw him out of his bed happened when the creature's created waves hit the ship. Transfixed, he stared at the red monster and its yellow smoldering eyes that seemed to stare right back at him. And then it surged forward, toward him.

 

“Get ready!”

 

Athara pushed Kiasho aside, running up the stairs, back to the deck.

 

“Athara!”

 

Athara ignored Kiasho, just ran to Delaros. He saw that the shields were rippling as the creature tried to pass them. Delaros and Darius were keeping them on, while Kiasho joined the mages and was trying to kill the creature with an avalanche of blasts. Kiasho was one of those rare sorcerers who was able to switch between both a mage's and a sorcerer's abilities.

 

And then it was through. Athara had no time to prepare as the shield was broken, and the huge red body lunged forward. The impact was inevitable.

 

Athara gasped as he was flung down forcibly onto the deck. Dizzily, he shielded his head as splinters of wood rained down upon him. That was hell. He heard screams then a loud roar, which shook everything around, as it ripped through the air. Athara jumped to his feet, two daggers ready in his hands, only to have his back connect with the deck again as a huge wave of phlegm and a loud popping sound knocked him over.

 

It was finished.

 

Athara retched at the stench of the phlegm, but wasted no time. He quickly wiped the phlegm off his face, got up again, sheathed his daggers and ran to Delaros, Darius and Kiasho who suddenly collapsed onto the deck. After assuring himself that they were okay and only exhausted, he looked around.

 

Two of the ship three masts were missing, the sails ripped off, tatters blowing in the wind, the rags sprinkled over the deck, some of them already trailing behind the ship, floating in the sea. Unconscious bodies were scattered across the deck. Athara wasn't sure who was missing, but he thought that the number of people was fewer than before encountering the sea-monster. He started checking on the people.

 

“You are so gonna get it!” Kiasho suddenly grabbed Athara by his arm while he was leaning over Yakusho, trying to bring the man to his senses. He roughly spun Athara around to face him. “Somebody has to teach you to do as you're told!”

 

Athara tried to wrench his arm out of Kiasho's grip. “Let go!” he bared his teeth at Kiasho.

 

“Kiasho!” Delaros bellowed. “Put that knife aside immediately! If I see you threaten Athara again - you won't reach Angus in one piece!”

 

Kiasho growled in anger then roughly pushed Athara away. “Fine!” he snorted. “I am interested to see how you're gonna explain yourself if the idiot gets killed!”

 

“Who's missing?” Delaros asked Athara after Kiasho stalked away. Delaros and Darius were attempting to wipe the slime off themselves.

 

“I'm not sure about the sailors; some of them might be hiding in the cabins,” Athara said quickly, turning Yakusho onto his side so that that one wouldn't choke on his tongue. Athara slapped him on his face, trying to wake him up. “But four of our group are missing: Foitimus, Risa, Danira and Takenshi.”

 

“Dammit!” Delaros cursed. He sat down then and starting wiping the slime off his face. “At least none of ours was lost.”

 

“I wouldn't be so glad,” Athara answered, losing the hope to wake Yakusho up, and walking over to Delaros and Darius, “we'll need warriors to break through to Angus,” his blue ethereal eyes swept over Delaros who almost stepped back still not being used how Athara could at one moment be a naïve youngster and start giving orders the next.

 

“We can always hire more on the way,” Delaros shrugged, hiding his shudder.

 

Athara's eyes flashed. “And get them killed,” he snickered, throwing his wet slime covered hair angrily behind his back and splashing over Darius while doing so. “Yep - piece of cake!”

 

He growled as Delaros didn't answer. “Any idea who sent it?” he then sighed, entirely losing the anger all of a sudden.

 

Delaros shrugged, relieved. “Could have been anyone.” He slowly got up. “Stand still, I'll clean everything up,” he said. “Help me,” he turned to Darius who nodded.

 

Athara watched as a yellow light began seeping through Delaros' and Darius' fingers. As the light touched mucilage, it started evaporating and after several moments it was all gone.

 

“Why are they all unconscious?” Athara asked, brushing his clean hair behind his ear.

 

“Some kind of side-effect, I think,” Darius shrugged. “The collision of our opposing power with the enemy's must have knocked them out after the beast exploded.”

 

Athara glanced over to where a loud groan was heard. “Yakusho's coming round,” he muttered.

 

“About damn time,” Kiasho growled while passing by. He was looking around for his fallen daggers. “The bitch is going to be unbearable after she learns that Danira became lunch,” he kicked an unconscious Wadra in the ribs.

 

Athara pushed him away from Wadra none too gently. “You have no heart, do you?” he hissed, his blue eyes flashing.

 

“Oh, I have one alright,” Kiasho snorted. “I'm just saving myself from heart-attacks in the future.”

 

“Can it, Kiasho,” Darius motioned toward the two men with his head, making Kiasho grit his teeth in anger. But Kiasho just stalked away after Darius got up from the floor. Darius was the only one Kiasho complied with without any word of protest.

 

Athara glared at Kiasho's back before going over to Yakusho whose dazed eyes were now open. “Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, brushing the long golden hair behind Yakusho's ear. He noticed the blue sign on Yakusho's forehead burn brighter. “Calm down,” he said then. “The danger is away.” He saw the sign fade away.

 

“Is everyone alright?” Yakusho groaned. With Athara's help the mage sat up shakily. “Who killed it?”

 

“Four mercenaries are missing,” Athara said, squatting down next to Yakusho. “I didn't see what happened to them. I'm not sure how many of the sailors are missing either. It was killed by Darius, Delaros and Kiasho…I suppose,” he added then. “I didn't see - got knocked over,” he admitted, blushing in shame.

 

“You shouldn't have been on the deck at all,” Yakusho snorted after noticing Athara's eyes downcast in shame.

 

Athara's sapphire eyes met his blue ones in a flash. “Just lock me in a golden cage, will you?” he snorted, getting up and leaving Yakusho's side.

 

Yakusho let out an annoyed sigh and got up, too. He looked around, taking in the ship's battered appearance. His eyes concentrated on the sky above the lone surviving mast. He looked at the sky closer.

 

“Master,” he called out to Delaros not turning around. “Is the sky supposed to be red?”

 

Delaros and Darius whipped their heads up.

 

“Storm's coming,” Delaros groaned.

 

“I think it's supposed to clean up the mess that creature left after it attacked us…” Darius said. “Not leave any evidence, so to speak.”

 

“Get Athara below deck,” Delaros muttered to Yakusho. “The last thing we need is for him to get swept into the sea while he plays hero. Don't say anything, just lock him up. We also need to get the rest of the unconscious people down into the cabins. And do any of you know anything about sails? We need to lower them or we won't last even five minutes in that storm.”

 

Yakusho nodded. “Yes, Master. I'll take care of it.”

 

XXXXX

 

Gohan roused with a painful groan in his throat. His head felt as if it was going to burst at any moment, the pain throbbing and gathering somewhere in his forehead and behind his eyes. The creaking wood and sloshing water sounds were the only ones that rumbled through his throbbing mind.

 

Urged on by the confusion and pain, he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. He could hardly see anything - there was only one kerosene lamp jangling from the ceiling. He was in a cabin with several other people. He was lying on the floor, his legs thrown on some wooden box.

 

Groaning in pain and clutching his head, he slowly got up. There were six people with him in the room; some of them were rousing. Gohan swayed and had to grab onto a table as the ship lurched suddenly. Trying not to fall onto the floor while the ship was being rudely jerked, he went to the door. The deafening roar that likely was coming from outside the ship was splitting his head.

 

As far as he recalled they had been attacked by that big ugly creature. He had no idea how he appeared in this cabin, but he wasn't going to sleep while the others were fighting that red monster. He was getting paid for this after all.

 

Holding onto the walls, he left the cabin and turned to the left, toward the ladder that led to the upper deck. He could see water streaming in rivulets down the stairs, slowly but inevitably flooding the corridor. He passed several doors then turned back around to head for the last door. At first he thought he was hearing the random crunches and crackles the ship was filled with, but then he heard curses on the other side of the door. Somebody was loudly pounding the wooden door with his fists. There was water leaking through the splits in the door.

 

“Get me the fuck out! Water is everywhere! Fucking get me out of here! There's a hole in the wall!” the screams wafted again.

 

Gohan recognized Athara's voice. He retraced his footsteps back from the first rung of the ladder, and approached the door. The door didn't seem to be very heavy or strong, only that it just had to open in Athara's direction, and the ship was already dangerously listing onto its side... Though, Gohan doubted that it would make his task easier - he was hardly able to stand himself.

 

“Step aside!” Gohan shouted in a hoarse voice.

 

“Who's there?”

 

“Step away from the door, or I'll smash it into your face!” Gohan shouted before kicking the door down. He staggered shakily on his feet as cold water squelched onto his shins.

 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Athara hissed, jumping out of the room, past Gohan, almost falling over as he slipped on the careening wet floor but then quickly regained his balance and sprinted to the flooded stairs. “That thing almost struck me in the face!”

 

“You're welcome,” Gohan muttered, following the lavender-haired man through the rapidly rising water in the shaking corridor. Then he stopped and loudly cursed. “Athara! There are more people in the cabins. We have to get them out of here or they'll drown!” Though, he had no idea how he was going to prevent himself from drowning - the ship seemed to be hanging on the brink of existence.

 

Athara faltered on his way. He then jumped back down from the ladder. “Where are they?”

 

“The third cabin on the right!”

 

Athara ran back deeper into the corridor. Gohan cursed as suddenly there was a loud crash reverberating throughout the ship with a deafening roar. Before he could've grabbed onto something, he fell onto the floor, into the cold water, immediately being drenched. The ship groaned like a wounded animal, the boarding gave way, started snapping and fell into the water. Gohan heard a loud yelp. He raised his head to see Athara lying in the water, his cloak floating above it. The way back to the cabins was blocked - the beams that supported the ceiling were now just kindling in the middle of the corridor. He knew he had no strength to dig his way to the cabins, nor time for it.

 

Gohan staggered to Athara. As the last impact killed all the kerosene lamps, he could hardly see anything, but after turning unconscious Athara around, he scented blood. Athara must have been hit by one of the falling boards.

 

Gohan hesitated for a moment, but as he knew that he wouldn't be able to get to the rest of the cabins, he grabbed Athara by his shoulders and started pulling him back toward the ladder that had already turned into a waterfall.

 

Gohan tried to climb up but each time he was halfway through, a stream of water simply tossed him back down. In the end he left Athara at the base of the ladder and started to climb without a burden. He didn't do any better.

 

Cursing, he got up again. As he felt the ship begin to lurch starboard, he lost the last grain of hope. He was going to drown.

 

And this should have been just a simple job…

 

Whereas the ship's left wall became the ceiling and the water's steady stream and strong current sloshed down everything in its path and flooded the corridor, as his back hit the fallen beams and water overwhelmed his body, lungs and senses, he thought he heard his mother's voice singing a lullaby. The long forgotten words suddenly were clearly heard. He saw himself playing war with his brother, getting a lump on his forehead and starting to bawl. He heard his father say that men don't cry then felt his father's lips touch his forehead.

 

His lungs were burning. The warm midsummer night filled his mind, the hills, garlands, fires, many fires and songs. His first kiss, his first love. The falling out with his captain. The ship, the journey. Dark. Lavender hair floating before his eyes. Athara.

 

He felt it. He was hardly conscious but he felt his hair rise up on his nape. He felt the power circle him and subconsciously tightened Athara in his previously lax grip. He thrashed while looking around with his not seeing eyes. Then everything exploded around him. He saw the splinters of wood shooting into the sides, away from him, but he had no time to wonder as shortly he felt himself lurch forward.

 

Suddenly, water dispersed. Gohan felt like losing his mind after realizing that he was in some kind of bubble. He was floating in the middle of the sea, surrounded by water, in an air bubble. He could see light coming from somewhere above water.

 

But his mind had to wait for that while he started coughing and gasping, water running from his mouth and nose. After he finally managed to inhale some precious air into his lungs, he turned all of his attention to Athara who was still lying in the bubble unconscious. He turned Athara onto his side, but Athara didn't react in any way. Gohan cursed after noticing the blood-matted hair on the side of Athara's head.

 

Gohan tried to feel the pulse but either it was too weak, or it was already too late. But Gohan refused to give up already. He turned Athara back on his back, tilted his head back. Luckily Athara didn't swallow his tongue, which made it much easier - he pinched the man's nose and started performing mouth to mouth resuscitation. After first breathing in, he pumped on Athara's chest five times, breathed in again, pumped five more times, turned his head to listen to Athara breathing then breathed in again.

 

“Gods,” Gohan rasped as finally Athara gagged. He quickly turned the man back onto his side, watching Athara vomit water. He sat back as Athara started coughing and gasping for air. He could hear Athara's teeth chatter in cold. Only now he felt how cold he himself was - he had no time to think about it before - the adrenaline rushing through his system was keeping his mind at bay.

 

Looking around, wide-eyed, Gohan started peeling his wet clothes off. The bubble they were in was slowly rising to the surface. At least he thought that he was able to feel some movement towards the surface, and it was becoming lighter. The air in the bubble wasn't warmer than their surroundings but as soon as he got rid of his shirt and trousers he felt much warmer.

 

After several minutes Athara's dilated eyes concentrated on him. Gohan felt worried after noticing how fickle the look was. Athara was as pale as snow.

 

“You okay?” Gohan asked.

 

Athara's look shifted to the side, and he tried to sit up. His hands gave in and he fell back to the bottom of the bubble.

 

“Athara?” Gohan moved to the lying man. He frowned as something hardly rational left Athara's bluish lips. Gohan wasn't sure if it was a result of the contusion or hypothermia. Probably both.

 

He quickly peeled Athara's clothes off, cradling and pressing the limp man's body to his, trying to get him warmer. He felt Athara lean into him, but after he looked at Athara's face he found that the younger man was unconscious again.

 

In about that time their bubble broke through to the surface, rising above the water.

 

It was calm around: the sea merely waving; the sky drizzling. Holding Athara closely pressed to his body, Gohan looked around, realizing that he and Athara were the only persons around in this blue waving vastness. There was no ship anywhere in sight.

 

Some time passed and Gohan still didn't know what to think of this.

 

But then something down in the sea, near him, bubbled. He watched another air-bubble rise to the surface. He was met by two sets of dark eyes that belonged to Delaros and Darius. While the sorcerers approached in their air-bubble, their foreheads were shining with silver.

 

Having endured too much for today, Gohan just let himself collapse on top of Athara. He didn't fail after all - Delaros was alive. The other question was who had protected and saved whom here, but that could wait.

 

XXXXX

 

He started feeling warm, the warmth comfortingly and soothingly spreading through his entire body. But then, at some point, the warmth started turning into heat, the heat turning into a steady and painful burn. His body felt like it was on fire. The pain was eating his flesh, the needles stabbing the surface of his skin and then plunging further, until he felt them reach his bones. He was so thirsty… His throat was being squeezed with immense force, making him wiggle.

 

He ran. Ran as far as he could from that impossible pain and heat. Hid somewhere deep and dark. Just wrapped his arms around himself.

 

He was back home. Deep and alone, like always. He didn't want to go anywhere. But the other wanted to stay here another thousand years, like he stayed millions of years before. HE didn't want him to die yet. He had to obey. But it hurt too much.

 

It followed. The pain found him. At first it seeped through into his shelter like a light breeze. Then the wind became stronger until it soon started shaking the walls of his haven.

 

The weird random images that didn't belong to him immersed him in a world of chaos and blood he had no wish to be in. But as soon as he would start dispelling them, the burning and heat returned. Soon the pain followed him into that chaotic world of thoughts and images, not letting him go, persecuting him.

 

And then he was cold again, like then…then…someday…he didn't know which day. Those were not his memories. It seemed he could hear his teeth chattering, the sound rolling and piercing through his bones. His body was being jolted with cold, the chill grasping his spine, not letting go, piercing him deep.

 

But then it was fire again, his skin stretching and almost peeling itself off with unbearable heat.

 

Sometimes, when a ray of clarity would pierce his chaotic world, he could hear someone groan. Several times he heard his name being pronounced. Several of his names. Did he have a name? As far as he remembered he had thousands of them. But were those his memories?

 

Then he would drift back, to his lee, but the sounds still would break through piercing the flaring sheets of his world: Athara… Athara…stay with us… You need to stay with us… Come back, Athara…

 

Come back… Where? Stay… Why? Give up… Yes. That was so tempting. To leave that madness he lived in. He was millions years old and he still was so naïve sometimes. But those were not his memories… or were they…?

 

But the frail thread of the voices and slight touches that would break through this madness still bound him. Yet he wanted away. Somewhere away from that pain.

 

Athara… Stay. Stay. You can't die… Athara… Fight it…

 

How?

 

Remember…

 

ATHARA.

 

YOU PROMISED ME.

 

YOU ARE BOUND.

 

YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

 

After some time that felt like months, no, like years, the pain subsided. The fire and ice retreated. When he woke up, it was night. He could see stars above his head. He licked his chapped lips, feeling strange when he realized he could feel his body. It was drenched with sweat, the clothing clinging wetly to his body. He was thirsty.

 

When he tried to sit down, something next to him stirred.

 

“Athara?”

 

Athara turned his head to look at Darius. His head throbbed. Athara blinked several times until his eyes focused enough to show him that Darius seemed to be very relieved.

 

“How do you feel?” the sorcerer threw his cover away, got up and approached him. “Here,” he gave a canteen of water to Athara who, after several shaky attempts to get up, had to give up and stay in a sitting position.

 

Athara grabbed the canteen, instantly losing his balance.

 

“Easy, easy,” Darius held Athara by his shoulders to prevent him from falling right back onto his pallet which was made from several mats and covers.

 

Darius watched Athara drink greedily, some of the water trickled down Athara's pale chin as the boy tried to swallow too much at once.

 

“The ship is lost,” Darius said then. “We are on some island. You, me, Delaros and that mercenary, Gohan, are the only survivors. The others drowned.”

 

Athara winced. He lowered the canteen onto his lap. He had no strength left to keep himself upright, and was grateful when Darius took the canteen away from him and helped him to lie back. He was cold, but he was tired and sleepy. Athara noticed that he was naked under the covers; it was the covers that clung to his damp skin.

 

“You've been delirious with fever for five days,” Darius said when he noticed Athara observing the covers. “I wasn't sure anymore if you would ever awaken,” the sorcerer said softly, getting up and walking closer to a small campfire. He started digging in one of the sacks that was piled up next to the fire. “You have to eat something. We have some fruit and fried meat.”

 

Athara noticed something stir on the other side of the fire. The figure wiggled at the crackling sounds that Darius was making while digging in the sacks.

 

“Athara woke up,” Darius told to the bundle of covers that had sat up and loudly yawned, rubbing its face with its hands.

 

The bundle revealed a dark-haired head that quickly turned to Athara. Athara found himself looking in Gohan's dark eyes.

 

“Come here,” Darius scooped a shivering Athara into his arms with all the covers. The sorcerers' powerful build hardly even felt the weight in his arms. “Let's get you closer to the fire. Gods, you got so light,” he muttered while lowering Athara next to the fire. “You're soaked. I'll get some dry covers for you.”

 

“Thanks,” Athara whispered in a hoarse voice while settling back into his new “bunk”. He already felt much warmer. “Where's Delaros?” he asked before covering himself completely.

 

“Keeping watch,” Gohan answered before Darius could answer. He got up and walked to the other side of the fire, closer to Athara. He observed Athara's pale face. But that pale color was much more different from that deathly white that had been clinging to Athara for the past five days. Athara's long lavender hair was matted and darkened with grease, wrapped around the covers and Athara's damp neck. Athara's usually sapphire eyes were dim, bleary with fatigue. And despite all that Gohan caught himself thinking once again that he had never seen anyone so beautiful.

 

“Here,” Darius handed a moistened piece of bread to Athara. “Take it,” he repeated firmly after Athara just looked at the bread without any intention of taking it.

 

Athara slowly complied. He didn't have an appetite. Despite that he chewed on the bread with his numb jaws. He wanted to drink again. He gratefully took a flask from Gohan's hands as the older man somehow read his thoughts and gave the water to him.

 

Athara was used to attention. He always got much of it. Either for his looks or abilities, but this time he was getting uncomfortable under that Gohan's heavy gaze. It didn't feel threatening or voluptuous but there was something…

 

“Let's get you dry now,” Darius lifted an almost boneless Athara up after Athara finally managed to get several slices of bread down. “Switch the mats,” he said to Gohan.

 

Gohan put the wet covers aside, extending the new ones that Darius brought in their place.

 

“Give me that,” Darius leaned forward for the last blanket. He then lowered Athara to his new den. “Here,” he quickly switched the damp blanket on Athara with the dry one.

 

As soon as he was covered, Athara blissfully fell asleep.

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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