This is a rough draft. I threw it together after going to Shambhala Music Festival. I wrote a little bit about my own experiences, some stories I heard from others. I need to rework it in places, but I've got a thousand other stories in the works right now. I need to get something out there. Thanks for reading.
Rated for drug use. Enjoy, it was really fun to write.
Also, I don't own anything. Any references to Shambhala are advertising for the amazing festival I'll be going to again next year. I especially don't own Merlin.
They met at a music festival.
He had been going to this thing for years with no intention of skipping that any time soon. It was a week-long vacation from his customer-centric boring job. Okay, maybe not so boring, he liked working with his hands, so building computers was the part he enjoyed. He didn't enjoy the customers who brought in their virus riddled desktops wondering why it wasn't working, even though they hadn't even thought about putting any kind of anti-virus. The stupidity of people astounded him.
So this was his escape.
He drove himself and his once-upon-a-time-girlfriend-turned-friend to the parking lot they were leaving from, their bags and tents packed high in the trunk and back seat. He was going to leave his car there and join a bit group of people who were driving in an old school bus. The beast was painted green and white and black, he was pleased to say he had been the one to paint teeth on the bumper. It gave the metal monster the beast-like appearance it deserved.
They didn't leave until late at night, he was tired, and he and Freya curled together under a blanket on one of the slightly uncomfortable wooden bunks built especially for the trip. She slept with her head heavy on his shoulder, he sat with his eyes cast out of the window. He could see his messy black hair reflected in the window and the mountains in the distance as they began the journey. They didn't leave until late at night, long after the sun had set. He slept on and off as he stared absently out of the windows, watching the sun rise between sleep. The sky grew pale as he watched it fondly, his lips curled into a vague smile.
He slid his fingers across the bridge of his nose, tired but unwilling to fall asleep again. Something seemed to be pulling on him, he couldn't describe it, and he definitely hadn't felt anything like it before. Not in all the years he had come here – so he stayed awake because there was something in the air, something important was on its way.
There was a shallow valley they were driving past, the trees shrouded by the morning mist, a small village coated in the white fog. For a moment, he could see towers, walls, galloping hooves and the shiny glint of swords and a flash of gold.
He jumped slightly, Freya stirring against his shoulder with a soft murmur under her breath. He exhaled, they were passing the trees and he watched them hard. It had been like a vision, something he couldn't describe, it seemed far too real to be a hallucination.
Then again, he had been on the road for about three hours, then on this cramped bus for another four, coupled with drinking before they left and that vague hangover he had found himself facing when he sobered up.
Maybe it was time to get some rest. With one last glance at the brightening blue sky, the last of the stars glittering above, he closed his eyes.
By the time they got there it was well into morning. They had stopped to eat and Freya was nearly bouncing in her seat out of excitement. This was her second year – the second year was always the worst because one knew what to expect. The anticipation was maddening.
He wished Will had come – he had lost his job and couldn't afford it, he would have paid for a ticket for him, but he didn't have the money for it this year. Next year, they had promised, and Freya promised to take a lot of pictures to show him when they got back.
The line-up was always a pain, the cars lined up row by row and they pulled out chairs and sat drinking in the grass. They weren't allowed to bring any booze into the festival, so everyone drank in the line on the way in. Not that it stopped anyone, there were so many people going it was nearly impossible to search every single person who came in.
Eventually they were finally inside (after waiting overnight and halfway into the morning) and he and Freya gathered their things to find a nice shady spot to camp. They found a peaceful spot in the trees (it wouldn't be peaceful for long, people would crowd them soon enough) and set up camp. It was simple and easy and he brought a hammock to sleep in instead of a tent. It saved on space and was a lot more comfortable.
They walked down to the main area to fill up their bottles with water, Freya was already wearing her black cat ears and feathery wings. After they did that, they could relax. That's what they did, the two of them found a spot in the grass and laid out a blanket. It didn't take long for other early arrivals to join them, they chatted and smoked cigarettes and he finally felt as though he were home.
At night, he lay in the hammock, watching the stars through the trees with a smile on his face. Freya was in her tent a little ways away, and as he slowly drifted to sleep he felt that tugging again. Something was pulling at him and he opened his eyes once more, sitting up as best he could in the fabric and looking around him. He couldn't see anyone around them just yet, they were a bit far away. He could hear random cheers and voices from the path just down the hill, and he squinted in the darkness to see if he could see.
Nothing. He checked the time on his watch, just about three AM, and sighed, settling back into the hammock.
There was something going on here, something he couldn't understand right now. This was a place for relaxation (as much relaxation as one could get while dancing all night, anyways), whatever this was would happen. He just had to wait and be patient.
By morning, that tug was there again. He woke up and glanced around him, brushing hair from his forehead and scanning the area around him. Freya was boiling water on the camp stove and humming to herself. He adjusted the bandana around his neck and lay back again, wondering if there was something wrong with him.
By the time he went to the main area, the tug was gone and he wandered aimlessly. Wearing the bandana at his nose and scanning the faces around him for anyone he knew, giving high fives and hugs and chattering to anyone who said hello. But that's when he saw him.
He wore a brilliant red cape that swished around his legs. He wore nothing else particularly exciting, save for a intricate bronze carved dragon that clasped the edges of the cape together. His hair was straw blonde and windswept in the light breeze, his eyes were the brightest blue he had ever seen. Normally people's eyes didn't draw him in, but these ones did - they were stunning. He saw, instantly, glittering chainmail in the midday sun, armour strapped to his shoulders, a sword at his side, a knight standing alone in a dusty field. The vision faded as fast as it came, and he shuddered out a breath as he quickened his pace towards him.
The man was standing in the line-up for water, looking around him almost nervously. It was as if he didn't know where he was going.
He walked towards him, striding with purpose and tugging the bandana from his mouth.
"Arthur" He greeted nearly breathlessly as he strode towards him, baffled that he knew his name but not about to question it. The man stared at him and frowned.
"How do you know my name?" He had the slightest twinge of an accent, and he melted a little bit.
"Lucky guess? With at least ten thousand people here, there's bound to be at least fifty Arthur's." He slid his fingertips into his pockets as he spoke.
"Who are you?" He asked, raising one eyebrow. His hair kept blowing in the wind and watching it made his mind forget words for a moment.
"Merlin"
It wasn't his real name – his real name was something entirely different that wasn't really him. The name 'Merlin' fit him better, somehow with the high cheekbones and pale eyes and black hair and tall lanky form, it worked for him. Any time he wasn't at work he was simply 'Merlin'. Especially somewhere like here.
He knew all the Arthurian legends. He had taken courses in medieval literature, he knew the stories inside and out. He had always felt connected to them, as if he knew them somehow. Some stories he would scoff at because they sounded ridiculous, others he studied with rapt interest, as if he was learning about something greater than him. It was his name, Merlin, instead of the silly one he had been given.
The man pulled a face, but reached out to punch Merlin's arm, grinning this gorgeous grin that nearly took his breath away. His eyes crinkled into a smile and he grasped his arm, feigning hurt. It felt so familiar, and they stood together in the line for water and talked about nothing. Stupid conversation that he wasn't going to remember later, then they were joking and calling each other stupid names like they had been friends forever. They inched forwards in the line and just talked, this mysterious Arthur wearing a cape and Merlin, a skinny boy with long arms and big ears and a red bandana around his throat.
Freya came up to him and grasped his arm, and Merlin turned his attention to Arthur one last time. His spot in the line had finally neared the front and Arthur was about to go fill up his bottle and clasped his shoulder as they parted. "See you later?"
She nudged his ribs playfully as they walked away. "He's cute" She stated. "Looking for the end-of-summer-festival romance?" She teased, her lips curled into a smile.
"I doubt he would be interested in me in that way." Even if he felt some absurd and scary strong connection between them, even if he knew his name was Arthur before speaking to him, even if he wasn't sure if he believed those words because there was definitely something there.
"I saw the way he looked at you, you know. That's not an 'I'm not interested' look."
He smiled despite himself as they made their way to the river, sitting on the stones in the icy water, using their hands to wipe dust from their feet and hands. He could waste hours out here, his feet in the water, sound tests from a stage near the shore, the chatter of people around him. It wasn't too crowded yet, but it would be soon. People were still pouring in, and they would be until it ended.
Merlin preferred to come early, that way he could find a nice shady spot to camp rather than in the sun. He had camped in the sun once, he would never be doing it again. After a while, two girls came to sit beside them, and they talked idly – Merlin was still a bit caught up in those eyes, that soft voice, the honey hair and that bright red cape.
They danced most of the night. He had found a handful of glowsticks on the ground and tied them in the laces of the leather gauntlets he wore. Eventually he slipped off his shirt and tucked it into his belt, the bandana loose around his throat as he moved to the music.
From across the crowd – he suddenly spotted him. The knight in armour named Arthur, walking with a group of friends just outside of the crowd he was lost in. His heart jumped to his throat and he pushed through the dense group to try to get to him. By the time he was out onto the grass, the man was gone and he was cold in the night air. He sighed, casting fingers through his hair, wondering if he would see him again. Places like these – it was easy to meet someone once then never see them again.
He woke up a little bit hungover. Hungover enough to feel a little off, but not enough to keep him from doing anything – he stretched in the cloth he lay on and licked his dry lips, his mouth tasted like dirt and cigarettes and stale booze. Not exactly pleasant, and as he brushed his teeth he wondered if he should go down to the water line to see if Arthur was there.
Instead, they ate breakfast. A can of fruit each, a granola bar, and some cookies.
That day, he met Arthur three times.
The first time they ran into each other, Arthur was still wearing his cape and they walked to the water line-up. They talked in the grass, Arthur was a little shorter than him, and stood sort of close to each other. They talked until Arthur's friends pulled him away, he watched him leave and wished he could grab him and bring him back to his camp.
The second time they ran into each other, Merlin quite nearly invited Arthur to come back to his camp with him. He wasn't wearing the cape, it was apparently too hot. Instead, he wore a pair of loose-fitting shorts and comfortable looking sandals. His skin was tanned and Merlin fought the urge to grab his hand and lead him away by force.
The third time they met Merlin was a bit high and actually did place his hands on the other. He was wearing the cape and he was wearing armour. Real armour, heavy chainmail and that cape and metal tied around his wrists and shoulders and Merlin definitely melted. They were in the dancefloor, and he pressed his palms flat against the cool metal mail he wore. It felt glorious under his fingers, and he breathed and tried not to get too close. But that became difficult as the other placed his hands on Merlin's lower back and drew him in.
They stood there, swaying slowly to a beat that was too fast for their pace, bodies pressing close to them on all sides, Arthur's breath on his neck. The music faded into nothing, someone was speaking, all that mattered was the touch. The way Arthur's fingers spread across the bare skin of his back, the metal against Merlin's chest, the smell of Arthur's hair. Sweaty and dusty and a little bit like coconut.
Merlin went back to camp alone, breathless, he had asked Arthur to come with him, but his voice was lost in the music and when the other leaned in to hear him, he couldn't think enough to ask him again, instead asked him if he wanted to move to a different stage.
Saturday night, only one more night after this of precious escape before he had to go back to reality. It was easy to not think about his 'real' life, though sometimes it came back to him. With thoughts of Arthur on his mind as he slept, he woke up wishing these next few days would never end. Where did Arthur live? What was his job? His last name? What did he do? He didn't know much about him, just his gentle voice and the way he said the word "Merlin" and the pouty lips that smiled when Merlin called him a name. He glanced around for Freya, who had already left, and stuffed his hand into the front of his pants as he chewed his lip.
Arthur was a dangerous drug. More dangerous than anything he had ever known or tried or even heard about. The man was captivating and he breathed his name as he came, wondering how long it would take to find him today. He wanted to learn everything about him.
He found Arthur in the lineup for food, and as soon as he had paid and had the plate in one hand, he grasped his wrist and led him over to a shady spot of grass to sit down. He wasn't going to let him leave, and he was amazed that they kept finding each other. That never happened, he had seen so many people that he hadn't run into again.
He found out that this was Arthur's first year. His sister, Morgan, had been coming here for a few years and finally convinced him to come. He worked with his father, some big name business with offices and fluorescent lights and cubicles and lots of money. Arthur spoke about his job with boredom, and admitted that he liked this better. Merlin agreed, and shared his own stories. Telling him about his computer tech job dealing with idiots and people who were idiots who thought they understood.
Their conversation came to a slow standstill; a comfortable silence fell between them. Merlin caught Arthur looking at him as he was lighting a cigarette, and smiled. "You're going to spend the day with me" Arthur declared. Merlin chuckled.
"And if I don't?" He would gladly follow him around like a servant if it meant he could spend time with him.
"Then I'll make you. Morgana has a leash and collar."
The words brought a delightful dirty shiver through his spine, and he laughed again. "I might just have to refuse, if that's the case" He joked, Arthur nearly flushed and was still grinning.
"It's a deal then."
Merlin was taking more drugs by the time the sun was starting to set, Arthur watched him pop one of the tabs curiously, and admitted he had never done anything like it before. He came from a world where image was important and work work work to the bone every single day – he never had a chance to experience 'fun' things like partying, nor did he have any interest under his father's strict rules. Merlin shared what he had, and held up a pack of gum. "You might want this" He said. And absently added a distant 'I like chewing' sometime after that as they started walking.
They went to Arthur's camp, where Arthur grabbed the chainmail from where it hung and pulled it over his chest. Merlin gladly helped him, his long fingers tying the straps together as expertly as if he had been doing it all his life.
Merlin didn't want to leave his side, and didn't, leading Arthur through the crowds as they picked some music and danced for a while. He watched the way Arthur's cape moved around him, the way those hands would reach out to him. When they moved between stages, Arthur grasped his hands or wrists and Merlin led the way.
At some point, Arthur's hands were all over him, he took off his shirt and ended up dropping it somewhere, the night was a blur of lights and sound and Arthur's warm hands all over him combined with the shockingly strong taste of watermelon gum in his mouth. When five AM hit, the sun started to light the sky, he pulled Arthur back to his camp. Hiking through the trees and up a hill and tenderly taking off the armour when they got there, kicking aside their shoes and socks.
Merlin pulled Arthur into the hammock, folding his many blankets around him and wrapping his arms tightly around Arthur. He kissed him then and everything was perfect. Arthur's fingers touched his cheekbones, Merlin lost his hands in his hair. They didn't sleep for a long, long time. They kissed and touched and it felt almost as though he were remembering every part of him. Caressing his hipbones (and no lower, he was probably too high to handle something that intense) and his chest and the lines of his back. A small part of him was almost surprised not to feel the ridges of many scars along that tanned skin, though he wasn't sure where that thought came from.
They fell asleep somewhere between the end of the music for the night and Freya returning to her tent.
Merlin woke up to the sound of Freya snapping a picture of he and Arthur curled nearly awkwardly in the hammock. Merlin's long fingers were crushed uncomfortably under Arthur's ribs, two fingers of his other hand tucked into the waistband of Arthur's boxers and Arthur's arms tied in probably uncomfortable positions around him. He blushed and hid his face against Arthur's shoulder, shooing her off so he could lay with his new 'friend' in peace.
It was Sunday, and with a heavy feeling in his heart he knew that tomorrow they would both be back to their normal lives. He studied Arthur's sleeping face sadly, the last thing he wanted was for this to end. And that's when he realized – Arthur was that thing he felt. That strange tug, the important feeling, it was Arthur. He had found Arthur and now that he had, he felt content. He was more at peace now than he had ever been before; he knew that he couldn't lose this.
He clutched Arthur close to him until he woke up. When he did, Arthur pressed kisses to his chin and jaw. He shuddered into the touch and clung harder. "Are you planning on letting me go any time soon?"
"No, I think I like it right here." His voice was almost husky, low and sad and filled with desire. He was overpowered and helpless with the desire to keep Arthur right here.
"Hm. You okay?"
He sighed, and gripped him harder if it were even possible. "We don't live in the same city." He stated.
Arthur said nothing.
"And I can't afford to leave my job."
Again, nothing.
"And you have too much shit keeping you where you are."
Maybe Arthur had lost his voice.
"And tomorrow it's all over."
Arthur shifted slightly.
"I can't leave you again."
He didn't know what 'again' meant, or why he said it. Arthur didn't ask. Arthur only kissed his mouth as if their lives depended on it. Later on, as they got up and Merlin pulled out his stash of canned fruit, Arthur stated "I'm straight, you know"
When Merlin didn't say anything, he added "It's something about you. I can't put my finger on it."
Merlin chuckled.
Arthur didn't wear his armour, they went down to the creek and sat in the icy water together, splashing it on their arms to clean off some of the dust on their skin.
Merlin pulled Arthur to his hammock again that night, kissing a path down his chest (he wasn't high tonight, he would rather be sober for this) and undressing him in the darkness of two AM. He took Arthur into his mouth and didn't bloody stop until Arthur was a quivering mess in his arms, gasping for breath and knotting his hands in Merlin's black hair. Arthur returned the favour with a little less experience but it was so damn good Merlin felt like he was going to come completely undone.
Merlin pressed himself against Arthur's back, huddled under blankets to keep warm, his nose against the other's spine. Arthur fell asleep long before he did, and he clung to him. This was it. They would never see each other again after this. His eyes were wet and he was a little ashamed, everything seemed more important when they were in a place like this. Would it still seem so powerful when they left?
Arthur woke up first, waking Merlin and telling him that he needed to pack up his things, and that he would be back there as soon as he could. Merlin's heart cracked a bit and he nodded, watching him leave.
Freya frowned sadly at him as they began to gather up their camp. He wanted to run away with Arthur – but he didn't think it would be a good idea. Arthur was a businessman and they had only known each other a few days.
They finished packing, and Freya gathered her belongings to bring to the bus. She offered to carry some of Merlin's, but he refused. "Arthur said he would be back." He said firmly. "I'm going to wait for him."
Freya smiled another sad smile. "I'll come back before they leave, we won't leave without you." Merlin nodded, and kissed her cheek before she left.
He waited and waited, sitting on the dirt and waiting some more. He was beginning to wonder if Arthur was going to come back, when he saw those gorgeous eyes and straw blonde hair. He stood and Arthur sighed deeply.
"I don't want to go back either." He said. This time, Merlin said nothing.
"I.." He took a breath. "I can afford to leave."
Merlin didn't dare say a word.
"I'm not going back."
He held his breath.
"Let's catch a ride out of here, and when we get to the highway let's see where the wind takes us." Arthur's eyes were wide and filled with promises. Merlin stared at him intently, hardly daring to believe it. His heart thudded against his chest.
So that's exactly what they did.
They went to the bus (Arthur had said his good-byes already) and Merlin grabbed his keys and wallet. He handed the keys to Freya, all of them. His bike lock key, car keys, the keys to his shitty apartment, even the key to his mother's house. He grabbed his cell phone and the crummy speakers and mp3, then grabbed the pack of batteries and a few extra water bottles. "I'm leaving." He said to her, holding her face in his hands, she squeezed his wrists. "I'll keep in touch with you, I promise. Stay safe, tell Gaius that I'm sorry, I'll call my mother whenever I get a chance. Fuck my landlord, he's a prick. Go take whatever you want from there, it's yours. I don't want anything anymore." Nothing but Arthur.
She wiped her cheeks and called him an idiot. Merlin was impulsive and stubborn, he wasn't going to be giving up. "I'll text you all my passwords, I love you, thank you." He kissed her cheeks and he and Arthur grabbed each other's hands.
Together, they set off down the road.
The two of them stood on the highway, their faces dusty and their legs sore as they held each other's hands tightly. Their friends had driven away long ago, leaving them behind for good. It was exciting, to stand at the end of the road and look back at the place that changed them. They found a patch of dry grass and twigs at the side of the road to sit down on, sharing cigarettes and watching people leave.
"When I got here" He started gently. "I felt something strange." His words were soft, Arthur pressed closer to his side. "As soon as I met you it went away. I think we were supposed to meet." The festival magic hadn't faded; they sat on the outskirts and collected what flowed freely from the entrance. It poured out, and they stayed there until they had absorbed the last of it.
"Will your father be angry?"
"Yes."
A smirk. "Do you care?"
"No."
"Leaving anything else behind?"
"My father fancies a girl I can't stand. Wants me to propose, I'm sure"
Merlin choked out a loud bark of laughter.
"Are you leaving anything behind?"
"Nah. Just my friends, but I'll see them again soon. I've got a shitty job, a shitty apartment, a couple of shitty possessions. " That reminded him to text Freya, and tell her his passwords so she could take his things (though he was pretty sure that she would grab anything 'important' and keep it for him). He did, his passwords were all stupid things like 'SalmoN64' and '69waffLes'.
"I want to meet your friends."
"I want to meet yours"
"I don't have many friends."
"I want to meet your sister, then."
"Funny, she said she wanted to meet you too."
"We'll find her."
"I think she's waiting for me in town, actually. Her group is staying in the hotel for a night, if we started walking we could make it there in time."
Merlin smiled, and pushed a kiss to Arthur's jaw. "I'd like that."
So they left again. As they rounded the curve of the highway, he glanced back one last time. He smiled fondly, the last look back, he always knew that one day he would just pack up and go. He would wander into the sunset and never regret a thing. He always suspected that he'd be alone. No matter how sweaty their palms got, they refused to let go of each other's hands.
Merlin was a changed man, and so was Arthur.
They made it to town by nightfall, Arthur called his sister and she gave them directions. When they arrived at the crowded hotel (many other people had the same idea), Morgan greeted them with a wide smile. Her hair was long, black as ebony, curled loosely around her thin frame. There were bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, she looked tired but freshly showered. She kissed Merlin's cheeks and brought them up to the room.
"Shower. Both of you. You smell."
Merlin had a feeling that this was going to be the last shower they had in a long time. So they savoured it. Sex in the shower was always a bit awkward, but they were able to manage it after a few awkward positions and a leg cramp on Merlin's part that they found something that definitely worked.
Morgan said nothing about it, only gave them both a devilish little smirk when they emerged, clean with Merlin's shoulder blades dotted with bruises. They were introduced to her friends and they sat on the bed and swapped stories. People who had tried too many drugs, creative and amazing people they had met, the crazy art dotting the pathways. Their experiences were all different, but there was one thing that stayed the same – that everyone was connected.
"I knew it was a good idea to bring you this year." Morgan stated with a knowing smile when the other girls had returned to their rooms. "I hear you plan on running away together." It was a simple statement, Arthur nodded.
"Take care of him, Merlin, he's going to need all the help he can get."
The three of them shared the bed with Merlin in the middle. "I can't wait until father finds out. Have you told him? Oh, can I break the news to him?" Even though it was dark, Merlin could definitely picture the evil glint in her eyes coupled with the devilish curl of her lips.
"I wish I could see the look on his face." Arthur stated with a chuckle, "Running off with some bloke I met at a rave. I'm sure he'll love that."
In the morning, they packed their bags and stopped at a grocery store. Arthur withdrew money from the machine, they had everything they needed.
It was well into the evening when a driver finally stopped to pick them up from the side of the highway. The driver was a girl with long curly hair and dark skin driving, an unshaven man with coal black hair in the passenger seat. She was named Gwen and his name was Lance. Arthur chuckled to himself and asked if her name was short for "Guinevere". She laughed and said that it was actually "Gwendolyn".
"We're travellers." She said. "We've been all over the country now, picking up hitchhikers and learning their stories. Is your name actually 'Merlin'?"
"Yes." It wasn't, not even Arthur knew his real name. At this point he had almost forgotten that he had a real name. He didn't even know Arthur's last name, not that it mattered anymore.
They stopped at a gas station to fill up, Arthur gave her some money for it, and Lance took the driver's seat.
The car broke down on the side of the road, Merlin recognized where he was. "You guys can keep going if you want." Gwen said shyly. "I don't know how long this'll take to get fixed, we wouldn't want to slow you down."
"If you wouldn't mind" Arthur started, glancing at Merlin (who nodded in agreement) "We can wait. We have nowhere to be." Maybe they could learn a thing or two about this, instead of guessing at what they were doing.
Arthur went to help Lance, and Merlin crossed the road and stood near the edge. The valley he overlooked was the same one he had seen on the way to the festival, the sun was rising, the mist surrounded the trees. He lost himself in the moment, only coming back to reality as Arthur came near. But as Arthur's hand slid into his, he saw it again. The flash of Arthur in armour in the morning light, the sound of hooves thundering across a dusty road, the beating wings of a dragon in the air, the tall grey towers.
When the image faded, he and Arthur took a breath at the same time. They said nothing for a long moment, staring at each other intently. 'You saw it too?' He asked without words. Merlin nodded and kissed him.
They all returned to the car and continued to drive. Gwen and Lance chatted in the front seat, their fingers curled together between them. He didn't know where they were going, and in the end it didn't matter. He had Arthur and it felt like he had known him for thousands of years. A small part of him believed that he had, the rest of him was still stuck to normalcy.
That would fade, he was sure. He settled himself against Arthur's shoulder and sank into silence, and then sleep, with Arthur's thumb tracing the circle of his ear. This felt more right and natural than anything else he had ever known.