Disclaimer: Never were mine. Still not mine ... and knowing my luck, never will be mine - godsdammit ! Though I do own both Lucan (he's not the character from the movie - I just loved the name) and his feisty sister, Aeron.

Warning: Strictly AU & not related to the rest of my KA fics. Contains strong language - yup, the boys, gods love 'em, are still as potty mouthed as ever. No change there then ...

A/N: The background to and for the characters can be found in "The Wolf and The Mage" which is on indefinite hiatus.
As Dagonet and Bors await their release papers from the Roman army, Dagonet finally discovered something the rest of his Brethren already knew - Tristan was cheating on him with Lancelot. Devastated, Dagonet breaks up with his unfaithful Scout and vows to have nothing further to do with him. Meanwhile, Merlin's son, Lucan (also a gifted magic user and shapeshifter) discovers the shocking identity of the one he's destined to be with. Lonely yet totally captivated, Lucan vows to do everything in his power to win his soul mate's heart ... something that takes a certain unsuspecting Sarmatian Healer completely off guard ...

XXXXXXXXX

Confrontation

Dagonet was distracted. So much so, that he failed to hear Bors' approach until he felt his kinsman's knee gently bump against his right thigh as Bors carefully pulled Ignis alongside of Flight. Startled by the unexpected contact, the taller Roxolani flinched, drawing a low rumble of laughter from the garrison's prize fighter.

"Alright, cousin ?" Bors asked quietly, his intense dark eyes studying his blood relative carefully.

Dagonet gave an indifferent shrug and grunted noncommittally, keeping his gaze firmly on the horizon in a vain attempt to avoid being drawn into a conversation with his very nosy, outspoken, well-meaning kinsman. Right now, he just wanted to be left alone. In peace. Though there wasn't much hope of that with Bors at his side blathering on, trying to draw his attention. All Dag could think of was the beguiling, young kennel hand who was sorely testing his will-power and weakening his defences. In fact, all Dagonet had been able to think of over the past few days, was the attractive newcomer ... particularly after the last encounter he'd had with the younger man, where Lucan had unexpectedly kissed him, then fled before Dagonet had been able to think coherently or even react.

That had been three days ago. Three days since he'd had another awkward, yet confused conversation with Vanora, who'd tried to help him see things more clearly. And three very long, uncomfortable days with just his own thoughts for company and no contact at all with Lucan, who to his utter dismay, had gone to ground. Something he hadn't expected from the quietly confident, amiable, young Brit. Hell ! After that first encounter outside the confines of the fort, where Dagonet had stumbled upon Lucan attempting to remove a thorn from one of the deerhounds' paws and Dagonet had, against his better judgement, stopped to help him with the large, distressed animal, the grateful youngling had been nothing if not persistent and had made a point to seek him out. To befriend him. Draw him into conversation. Make him laugh. Lucan had doggedly sought him out to do all that on a daily basis, much to Dagonet's bemusement. At first the shy, reserved Roxolani had been irritated by and wary of the attention and had been unsure whether the gesture of friendship was genuine. That someone - the finger of suspicion firmly pointed at Bors - had put the lad up to it. And all of this was one elaborate, cruel hoax ... and the joke was on him.

Yet the more Dagonet reflected upon the young native's behaviour, the more he realized how wrong he was. He could see the sincerity in Luc's blue-green eyes. Hear it in his husky voice. Could feel it radiating from that lean, sinewy frame ... Deep in thought, Dagonet slowly shook his head. How could he have got it so wrong ? How could he be so stupid ? So blind ? He closed his eyes and an inaudible groan escaped his lips as the reality of the situation finally sank in. How could he have fucked up so badly with Lucan ? Hurt and misjudged someone who'd genuinely cared for him and shown him nothing but respect and honesty from the very start ? And there was no denying that the handsome rapscallion had been badly wounded by Dagonet's response, or rather non-response, to that fleeting, gentle yet somewhat innocent play Lucan had made to him at the tavern kitchen. That he was far too embarrassed by his actions to have anything to do with Dagonet and had resorted to ignoring the older knight or fleeing from him at every given opportunity ...

"Dag ?"

Noting his kinsman's distraction and lack of response, Bors sighed heavily and leant forward in his saddle causing it to creak beneath his bulk. He absently patted Ignis' sleek neck, his eyes narrowed speculatively and tiny lines furrowed his brow as he studied his cousin with concern, instinctively knowing that he was clearly hiding his feelings. Dag was much quieter than usual, if it was at all possible and appeared both reflective and confused. And that dismayed Bors greatly.

"DAG ! "

"Huh ?"

With a pang of guilt, Dagonet reluctantly tore his thoughts away from the one person who'd consistently been on his mind for the last three days and turned it warily upon his blood kin.

"You two fallen out ?" Bors enquired softly, his voice a deep rumble, having noted how Dagonet's bright silver eyes had dulled and were trained on the horizon ... which also happened to be in the direction of their fort. The older Roxolani often acted daft, but he was no fool and he certainly wasn't blind. He'd been quick to notice the budding friendship that was cautiously being forged between his kinsman and Ulric's new kennel hand and now took a keen, yet subtle for him, interest in their fledgling relationship. Dagonet sighed and failed to hide the flicker of regret that appeared for a brief instant on his rugged face.

"Uh, fallen out with who ?"

"Lucan, y'numpty !"

"Not that I'm aware of ..." he replied quietly. "There's no quarrel on my part."

"Well, something's bothering the lad for him to be giving you the cold shoulder." Bors canted his head to one side. "He's not the kind to ignore someone. Y'sure you've not done anything to upset him ? Even I can tell he's unhappy 'n' brooding over something ..." Pausing, Bors glanced slyly at the powerful Healer at his side and added casually, "or someone ..."

Dagonet shifted uneasily in his saddle and transferred Flight's reins to his left hand before resting his right hand upon a tense, muscular, leather-clad thigh. The silver orbs were now undeniably tinged with sorrow as he silently contemplated Bors' words. Knowing he'd been the one who'd unwittingly hurt Lucan had guilt gnawing fiercely at his conscience.

"Listen, Dag, I know you probably don't want to talk about whatever's going on between the pair of you ... Hell ! I'm not sure I want to know what's happened, but it's you Lucan's narked with. No one else. You're the one he's not talking to. The one he's avoiding. I don't care how you do it, but you need to sort things out ... make amends with the lad." Bors paused briefly to give Dagonet an opportunity to respond. An opportunity that his confused and rather tongue-tied kinsman failed to take. "Fuck, Dag ! Whatever it is, sort it out. Aye ? If not for your own sake, or even the rest of the brethren's, do it for him. Y'hear me ? 'Cause believe me, Ulric's bound to notice something's up 'n' when he does, he'll be well pissed ... So, if I were you, I'd sort it out sooner rather than later, before the hounds-master decides he wants your blood for hurting the boy- "

"Bor- "

Bors wearily shook his head and muttered, "Just get it sorted, Dag. I mean it. The lad looks like a kicked pup 'n' you're looking like the man who kicked that very same whelp ! It doesn't take a seer to notice you both like each other ... So, man up, cousin. Pull that finger out of your fucking arse 'n' make amends with Lucan before things get so bad that you can't mend them. Right ?" Then shrugging his massive shoulders, Bors broke eye contact as his gaze fell upon another member of his brethren. He lightly dug his heels into Ignis' sleek, ebony flanks and yelled, "Oi ! 'Rak ! Wait up. That business you mentioned earlier ? Still want to talk about it ?"

The strapping Iazyges giant turned his head sharply and inclined his head once in response, causing his sleek, dark mane to brush against broad, powerful shoulders. Bors acknowledged the gesture with a dip of his own shaven head before eyeing Dagonet pensively.

"Remember what I said, cousin. You need to mend this 'n' do it soon. Don't care how you go about it, just get it bloody sorted ... aye ?" Digging his heels once more into Ignis' flanks, Bors rode on ahead to where Lamorak and the others were waiting for them, leaving a silent, dumbfounded Dagonet nodding in his wake.

XXXXX

When they finally got back to the fort, it was getting dark and by the time Dagonet had stabled Flight and made sure that the powerful destrier's needs had been satisfactorily met before heading off to the tavern to grab a bite to eat. Dagonet closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he silently cursed a certain lithe Brit for making him feel so preoccupied over the past few days.

Distracted by his thoughts, the strapping Healer was unaware that most of his brethren had either left for the bath-house or their quarters. It was only when Lamorak brushed past him, with Bors hot on his heels, that he realized they were both undoubtedly on their way to the tavern. The huge titan gave Dagonet a friendly slap on the shoulder before striding briskly out of the stables. Bors meanwhile, paused and gave his cousin a meaningful look.

"You know what you need to do, cousin. Clear the air with Lucan 'n' get rid of all this shit between you. If you don't, you could well live to regret it."

Dagonet did not remain long at the stables after Bors headed for the tavern with Lamorak. He gave Flight an affectionate pat on the rump then left hastily in search of his elusive friend.

XXXXX

An hour or so later, Dagonet stalked up stairs which led up to the loft above the kennels for the second time that evening. His mood was definitely grim and his silver eyes dark and cloudy with anxiety. He'd gone to all of Lucan's known haunts and failed to locate him anywhere. As he crossed the creaky landing floor, he came to an abrupt halt before the doorway to the Brit's chamber. Dagonet pulled his lower lip between his teeth and began to worry it gently as he pondered his next move.

"Ach ... fuck it !" he muttered and raised a large fist and rapped sharply against the oak door. There was no reply. Then deciding he had nothing to lose, carefully opened the door and quietly slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

It was as he suspected. The room was devoid of its owner. Dagonet sighed in frustration and agitatedly rubbed his nape. There was only one thing left that he could do. Hell ! He'd already traipsed across the entire gods-damned fucking fort with no success ... and he was cold, hungry and above all, absolutely knackered. The contrary little bugger would eventually have to show his face and return to his lair to get some rest. And Dagonet was intent on sorting whatever-the-hell-it-was that had fucked things up so badly between them, before either of them were even going to think of sleep !

The Healer absently studied the room. Someone had clearly been there that evening as the torches on the wall were lit and there was a blazing fire in the hearth. It was a small, neatly kept room, which had an old, oak chest at the foot of a large, fur-covered bed and a fine horse bow and a quiver full of arrows lay upon it. Two chairs were situated opposite each other by the fireplace and large, thick fleeces were scattered all over the floor. Underneath the window sill was another chest. It was slightly smaller than the other one which was clearly used to store Lucan's belongings. In the corner of the room, beneath a torch, was a table and on top of it was a large wooden bowl, a clay pitcher of clean water and a couple of goblets.

Dagonet sat upon the chest by the window and decided to bide his time, knowing full well Lucan would have to return in order to sleep. Whoever had tended the room had forgotten to close the window shutters and Dagonet peered idly outside as he awaited the errant youngling's arrival. He prayed he wouldn't have long to wait.

Thankfully, the gods decided to be merciful. Dagonet heard the soft, familiar, stealthy tread of his quarry approach the door. A grim smile curved his lips. This time, whether he liked it or not, Lucan would have to talk to him. And Dag was adamant that a refusal wasn't an option. The door creaked and slowly opened, causing the Roxolani to suddenly hold his breath. The lithe, athletically built man entered the chamber, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot before trudging wearily into the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Lucan leaned forward and tugged off his leather boots allowing them to rest where they fell. He looked shattered and swayed slightly as he stood to unfasten his belt and a slipped a pair of lethal hunting knives which he'd kept hidden beneath his tunic, under his pillows. A faint yawn escaped his lips. The sound tugged a slight grin from the Healer's lips. He'd been right in his assumption that Lucan wouldn't be able to stay away from his bed for long. Dagonet heard a husky groan and watched in fascination as Lucan stripped off his forest green tunic and tossed it carelessly on the chest's lid, revealing a lean, sinewy torso, its skin pale and relatively blemish and scar-free apart from a beautifully intricate Celtic tattoo of a fox entwined with a wolf on his right shoulder blade.

Dagonet suddenly felt his mouth become dry and nervously moistened his lips as he noted Lucan's capable, beautifully shaped hands begin to tug at the laces of his leathers. He swallowed hard and decided it was best to make his presence known ... To give his friend - and that, to Dagonet's astonishment, was how he now viewed Lucan - fair warning before he embarrassed himself further and made things even worse between them. Not that it was a hardship to look at the half-naked man by any means, Dagonet mused absently. After all, Lucan was an impressive example of the country's native inhabitants at its finest. A breath-taking, captivating specimen of virility and masculine beauty. Just his type, in fact. Tall, bearded, lean, lithe and sinewy. A gentle soul who possessed a keen mind and a sly, dry wit. Stunned by the direction his thoughts were taking him and by the sudden discomfort caused by the snugness of his leathers, Dagonet slowly shook his head in disbelief as he realized and finally accepted that he was very attracted to Lucan.

Slowly, Dagonet unfurled himself from his vantage point by the window and cleared his throat. The sound echoed within the silent room, startling the younger man. Lucan froze momentarily, then suddenly turned around to confront the intruder. The shock of seeing the man who'd consumed his thoughts and haunted his dreams since the gods had willed it so - the very man whom he'd foolishly and clumsily made a pass at three days previously and had been rejected by - actually standing before him in his quarters, suddenly drained Lucan's face of all colour.

Biting his lower lip, Lucan tore his gaze away from the strapping Healer and lowered his head to stare at his bare feet. He watched his toes curl into the thick fleece and found himself mute. Unable to utter a single word. And wishing more than anything that Dagonet would just bugger off and leave him be. That the man he'd come to love more than anything would be merciful and allow him to curl up and die of sheer embarrassment without witness. Lucan found himself praying that if he could just ignore the older Sarmatian, that Dagonet would take the hint that he wasn't wanted there ... that he'd give up and return to his own quarters. But it seemed as if his prayers were to be unanswered ...

"Lucan ... ?"

Dagonet's husky voice broke the silence, making Lucan groan inwardly and briefly close his eyes once more. Resolutely, he kept his own counsel and his gaze remained fixed upon the floor.

"Luc, please ... Look at me ?"

Dagonet's soft plea was his undoing. Lucan's head flew up, his lean frame coiled with tension. He began to card restless fingers through his cropped, reddish-brown hair and eyed the taller knight warily. Dagonet appeared to be equally ill at ease, his uncertainty clearly revealed by the hand agitatedly rubbing his nape. Lucan was suddenly distracted by the sight of Dagonet's long, skilful, callused fingers kneading and unravelling the tense sinews at the back of his neck. He gave an inaudible gasp as he began to imagine the very same fingers possessively, sensually, caressing his own skin as they roamed freely and unhindered over his body. The thought alone was enough to make him tremble with need and want.

"I-It's late and ... and I'm tired, Dag. Wh-What the bloody hell d'ya want from me ?" he demanded, once he finally found his voice. To his own ears, it sounded raspy and full of uncertainty.

The Roxolani was about to take a step closer to him, then abruptly changed his mind. He eyed Lucan speculatively and tilted his head to one side. It was a gesture that all the brethren, unlike Lucan, were familiar with as it always signified the older knight was contemplating his next move carefully.

"I want ..." Dagonet began haltingly, a pained expression crossing his rugged features. "I want us ... Bloody fucking hell ! " Confused silver orbs suddenly clashed with equally nervous and bewildered cobalt. "You ? Me ? We need to talk, Luc."

"Er ... what about ?" Lucan was instantly on his guard. His expressive eyes wary and anxious.

Dagonet slowly shook his head in disbelief as it became clear that the youngling was going to take the path of denial rather than discuss what was preying on his mind. "Gods, Lucan ! You know perfectly damn well what about ... We need to discuss what happened the other day ... when you kis- "

The normally confident shape-shifter looked panic-stricken and Dagonet couldn't fail to notice the way Lucan's intelligent blue-green eyes kept flickering towards the door. That he appeared to be looking for a means of escape.

"Look, Dag, let's be reasonable about this, aye ? Can we do this in the morning ? After we've both had some rest ? It's been a long day, for mercy's sake- "

Snorting, Dagonet raised a very sceptical eyebrow. "What ? And risk having you do another runner on me again ? I don't think so. Nah, we're doing this here. Now."

Then, without warning, the slighter man darted past him and attempted to open the door. Dagonet gave a low growl and swiftly turned on his heel at a pace which belied his powerful build. He reached out and grabbed hold of Lucan's wrist, spun him around and slammed his back against the door, before bolting it securely with a calmness he did not feel.

The oak felt cold, rough and unrelenting behind Lucan's back. Keeping his head bowed so that the Healer was unable to read his face and see how daunted and aroused he was beginning to feel by Dagonet's closeness, Lucan inhaled raggedly and bit his lip once more. He wasn't a small man by any means, but the scarred Roxolani towered over him. Made him feel vulnerable, yet if it were at all possible, safe at the same time. He inhaled deeply, taking in Dagonet's attractive, musky scent and tried to wriggle his wrist free of the elder's firm, gentle grasp.

"P-Please, Dag ... l-let go ..." he raised his head only to find himself staring at a calm, silently fuming Dagonet who was shaking his head in refusal.

"I don't think so. D'ya honestly take me for a fool, Luc ? That I'd simply let you go only to have you go to ground once more ? Oh, no ... I intend to keep an eye on you and keep you close at hand until you give me the answers that I want." He leant closer, placing his right hand against the door close to Lucan's head and braced himself so that he wouldn't crush the smaller man. "Now, talk !"

"Dag- "

"Lucan !" Dag growled a low warning. "What's going on inside that head of yours ? Why did you- ?"

Lucan swallowed hard and ran his tongue across his lower lip, unaware of the fact that the unconscious gesture drew Dagonet's heated gaze to his mouth. "Why did I kiss you ? D'ya not know ?"

Baffled and more than a little exasperated by Lucan's reply, Dagonet used his index finger to tilt up the Mage's chin, before gently grasping it and forcing him to make eye contact.

"What don't I know ?" Dag rasped gruffly, his brow furrowed with confusion. "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking ... I need to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak ..."

"Oh, goddess ..." Lucan groaned, a flicker of despair crossed his eyes, even though he revelled in the feel of Dagonet's touch upon his skin. "Why are you so fucking oblivious to what's right in front of you, huh ? Are you so blind that you can't see ?"

"See what ? "

"ME ! " Lucan snapped, his broad, smooth chest rising and falling in agitation. "Me, gods-damn it ! Me ... Am I so bloody insignificant or unworthy of your attention ? Why in goddess' name can't you see that I care about you ? That you mean a lot to me ?"

"Lucan ... I- "

"Will you just shut the fuck up ? You wanted me to talk - I'm talking ..." the normally cool, even-tempered shifter suddenly flared up. "You wanted to know what's going on inside my head, well here it is, in all its bloody glory ! My feelings for you ... When I said that I cared ... I wasn't entirely honest with you. What I ... what I feel for you ... it's, it's far from brotherly, Dagonet ... It's stronger, far deeper than anything I've ever felt for anyone before. Most of the time I'm in awe of you. I respect you and your opinion truly matters to me. You matter to me. More than anyone in this fucking hellhole."

Lucan paused and took a deep breath. "I see you and you take my breath away. My heart races and my chest feels tight when I hear your voice. And you don't want to know how uncomfortable my leathers become when you're nearby ... I need you like the air I breathe and ... and I knew I wanted you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you. I still want you, Dag, so badly that it hurts ... Being with you and not able to have you makes me physically ache- "

Dagonet's head spun with Lucan's words and he resorted to doing the only thing he could to silence him. He lowered his head and swiftly claimed Lucan's lips, taking them in a hard, relentless, searingly passionate kiss. On first contact, the startled shifter froze, then once he realized that Dagonet was kissing him - actually kissing him of his own free will - all the tension he felt eased away. Lucan relaxed completely and wound his free arm around the Healer's lean waist, drawing him close until they were both flush against each other as he returned the kiss. The burning sensation in Lucan's chest was a timely reminder that he needed air. He parted his lips and Dagonet, who was equally as caught up and enthralled by the kiss, was quick to take advantage of it. The nuance of the kiss gradually altered. It became softer. Gentler. Intimate. Yet somehow, it still managed to retain all of the passion and its original fire. He could feel Dagonet's fingers slide across his nape, becoming entangled in his hair, tugging insistently, demanding more ...

Eventually, a stunned Dagonet broke free. His hand slid gently down Lucan's throat, lightly skimming over firm pectoral muscles before coming to rest upon his madly beating heart. Dagonet's face was pale, yet his cheekbones were lightly flushed as were his kiss-swollen lips and his silver eyes were glazed and dark with passion. Both men were panting deeply and were equally aroused. Burning with need for each other.

Dagonet's right hand lay against Lucan's cheek, his thumb lightly brushing the youngling's full, bruised lower lip. "What have you done to me, Luc ?" he rasped hesitantly. Lucan's grin lit up his face, reminding Dagonet of the sun's sudden appearance from behind a storm cloud. It was bright. Dazzling. And all too captivating.

"No more than you've done to me, Dag," he replied huskily, slowly turning his head to brush his lips tenderly against the Healer's warm palm. Dagonet's breath hitched abruptly.

"I ... I cannot be who you seek, Lucan ... You know that. I'm broken ... damaged, if you will. You deserve better. I'm no good for you. Truly I'm not. I'll only cause you pain. Find someone who won't hurt you. Don't settle for a man who can never be heale- "

Lucan's handsome countenance darkened, his lips thinned and his jaw clenched with anger. "Am I not allowed to decide for myself who I want ? That I'd settle for just anyone ? I know who I want ... the one I need. And my heart's made its choice. It's set on you, Dag. YOU ! No one else will do. I don't want anyone else. I love you, you stupid git ! Can't you get it through your bloody, stubborn, thick skull that I'm in love with you ? I swear I have been since the first time I laid eyes on you. I couldn't help it ... you made such a lasting impression. One I'm not likely to forget !" he grinned teasingly, reaching up to tenderly trail a knuckle down the scar which marred the left side of Dagonet's face.

"Bu-"

" 'But' nothing, Dag. I'm a grown man. I've made my choice ... and I choose you. Only you. I know you've been badly hurt and I'm not going to make empty promises about not hurting you, because I can't. I can only swear that I'll try my damnedest not to." Lucan reached up and drew Dagonet's head closer until their foreheads rested against each other. He spoke softly and with absolute sincerity. "All I ask, Dag, is that you give me a chance ... to prove to you how serious I am about you ... I want the chance to be the one that heals you, if you'll let me ?"

T.B.C.