-blushes slightly- i totally forgot when i first posted this, but this particular one-shot has a mild guy/guy sexual relationship in it. they kiss, but nothing more, at least in this one. i will give warning when necessary on any story in this series, as i realize that most of madeline l'engle's readers likely arn't fanboys/girls.
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Brandon Lawcae sat in the low branches of a tree just outside of the Indian compound, where he had been spending a lot of time since his brother Richie had taken Zylle and little Brandon to Wales. He leaned back against the smooth bark, and was almost asleep when footsteps below him caught his attention.
It was Maddok, Zylle's younger brother, and his best friend since he was born. He smiled, and dropped out of the tree, throwing his arms around Maddok's shoulders from behind him. Maddok grinned, and ducked away.
"I still knew you were there," he teased. Brandon sighed. Maddok always knew where he was, but he could sneak up on Brandon any time he wanted to. It wasn't fair. "So what were you waiting for, anyway?"
"I don't know. But I don't think I've found it yet." Maddok raised an eyebrow.
"If you had found it, you would know what it was, yes?"
"Not necessarily," Brandon laughed. "I find things all the time that I don't have a clue what they are." Maddok laughed with him, and they walked back towards the compound, arms over each other's shoulders.
Lost in thought, Brandon tripped, bringing Maddok down with him. They hit the ground hard, pressed together, faces inches apart. Slowly, Maddok lowered his face, and gently touched his lips to Brandon's. The kiss was chaste and gentle, but it was more than the strictly Christian raised boy was prepared to handle. He scrambled up off of the ground, pushing Maddok away. The Indian looked away, blushing slightly. He had seen Brandon's attraction a long time ago, and knew that he only suppressed it because he had been taught all his life that such things were wrong. But he hadn't realized that Brandon hadn't ever acknowledged it; that he truly didn't know what he was looking for.
"Come, my father wishes to see you," he commented when it became obvious that Brandon wasn't going to speak. Brandon nodded slightly, and set off once more towards the Indian village.
-
"Brandon," Zillo greeted him gravely. Since Zylle's almost burning, they had worked together to help Brandon accept his gift, learning how to call the pictures or, conversely, keep them away when he didn't wish to see. Zillo taught him the prayers that were traditionally taught to all of the People of the Wind when it was discovered they have the gift of seeing, and did his best to overcome the fear of his home settlement, coaxing the boy into trusting his visions, and the gods that sent them.
Noticing how Brandon seemed skittish around his son, never looking directly at Maddok, but always watching him out of the corner of his eye, Zillo grinned slightly. Many months ago, Maddok had confessed his feelings for the other boy to his father, and had received his blessing on attempting a relationship with him. Maddok had been subtly courting the other boy since, and had apparently finally done something that had made the boy uncomfortable, thus forcing him to examine his own feelings. Maddok sidled up to his father nervously.
"I kissed him," he whispered, knowing his father had noticed the tension between them. "I didn't mean to, but he tripped, and we both fell, and I just kissed him before I thought about it." Ah. That explained the look of shame; he was always chiding his son for his lack of forethought.
"Do not worry, my son; I believe it will turn out for the best. Though that does not excuse your lack of thought." Maddok grimaced, but nodded, looking reassured nonetheless. Zillo supposed that the chiding was overpowered by the reassurance that this wasn't likely to drive the other boy away. "Have you been to the settlement lately?" Maddok nodded.
"The villagers think that Brandon is becoming more Indian than Christian, but they don't dare to speak against him because of what happened with Zylle. But there have been subtle threats, and several times only chance and my intervention has kept him from being beaten by a few of the other boys. I think he would be better off staying here, but he would miss his family, because if he moved here, they would not dare visit often, and he would no longer be welcome in the village." Zillo nodded.
"Brandon, tell me of the village," he said, loud enough to be heard by the patiently waiting Welsh boy.
"None of the children will talk to me anymore. The women give me dirty looks, like I've done something terrible every time I return from the compound. Only mother and father stand by me. Father has spoken of asking you to take me in. He believes that my welfare would be better served away from the village."
"And what do you think, Brandon," Zillo asked gently.
"I don't know. If I do move here, it's likely I won't see my family again. They wouldn't be able to come visit me, or I visit them, if I 'go native'." The last words were spoken in a scornful tone that told both listeners that this was either something he had been warned against doing, or gossip he had overheard. Maddok reacted to the pain in his voice without thought, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. Brandon accepted the embrace for a moment, then pulled away, blushing slightly. Maddok smiled. At least Brandon hadn't pushed him away immediately. That meant he had a chance, right? He sat back on his heels at Brandon's feet, ignoring his father's amusement, knowing that he would understand this gesture, at least, even knowing as little of the culture of the People of the Wind as he did.
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Brandon stared in shock as Maddok placed himself at his feet; wordlessly saying 'I'm yours'. Then his mind caught up with him, and he blushed furiously, looking anywhere but at Maddok, or at Zillo, who was watching them with amusement sparkling in his eyes.
The awareness suddenly hit him, as it sometimes will with information you have known all your life but never really thought about, that among the People of the Wind there was no prejudice against same-sex couples, as they preferred to look at the love, not the gender. This had been one reason that the settlers considered them heathens, though they had been predisposed to think like that, anyway.
Looking back, he realized what he had only halfway registered before; Maddok had been courting his attentions for months. He was rather amazed that he hadn't noticed before, but it hadn't ever occurred to him that any man would seek his attention in that way.
Zillo was watching his face carefully. "And how do you feel about this, Brandon?" he murmured when he noticed that Brandon was allowing himself to be sidetracked. Brandon grimaced slightly; he really didn't want to think about this. But he knew that he had to, Zillo likely wouldn't allow him to leave until he'd come up with an answer, afraid he'd bolt. He sank to the floor, sitting on his heels as Maddok was, eyes falling shut. Maddok looked at him, considering, for a long moment. When he finally moved, his movements were smooth and sure as he moved to straddle across Brandon's knees, wrapping his arms around the white boy's neck, and kissing him again, more purposefully this time. Zillo raised an eyebrow, unsure what his son thought to do by kissing him again, and halfway thinking that he was going to get a knee in a very uncomfortable place in a very short amount of time. Brandon stiffened and Maddok moved aside to whisper into his ear.
"Shh. Relax. Don't think; just feel for a moment. How does this feel to you? Do you like it?" He moved his lips back to Brandon's and kissed him again, lips moving sensually against the other boys, before he pulled completely away, moving to sit beside his father. "I'm not trying to push you into anything, Brandon," he said earnestly. "I'm just trying to break you past the prejudice of the settlement, so that you can see with clear eyes." Brandon nodded absently, clearly not really listening as he wrestled with himself.
He had liked the feel of Maddok kissing him. That much he could admit, though it made him blush furiously to do so, even within the confines of his own mind. But was he willing to have a relationship with the Indian boy? To do so would be signing his own death warrant in the settlement; he would never be welcomed again, even by his own family. They would hang him, and likely Maddok as well, for 'corrupting' him, though this certainly didn't feel corrupt to him. It felt right. Good. He turned his head, and his eye caught a gleam of light reflecting off of a copper teakettle he had given to Zillo on his naming-day, the day they celebrated his birth, and ability to survive until his appropriate name could be found. It was thought by many that a baby was especially vulnerable between birth and naming, as so many newborns were lost.
He let his eyes unfocus slightly, silently asking for a vision to help guide him. He gasped slightly as he saw Zylle's smiling face through a window like those at the settlement, but slightly different.
"Follow your heart, dear Brandon. Not your mind. Your mind is clouded by the prejudices you have grown up with, and accepted without thought. But your heart has remained pure where many others have not." And she faded away with one last smile, and a parting wave of little Brandon's hand from where he sat in her lap.
As he came back to himself, he realized that there were tears sliding down his cheeks, and Maddok was watching him worriedly, only Zillo's hand on his arm preventing him from rushing over to comfort his upset friend.
Slowly, Brandon smiled, and held out a hand to Maddok, who rushed to take it. Still grinning, he lifted the warm brown hand to his face, gently kissing the fingers, and Maddok gasped at the traditional acceptance of a suitor. Zillo smiled at them, then cleared his throat; both boys jumped, blushing slightly.
"I take it you will accept my invitation to live with us, then?" he asked mildly. Brandon nodded slowly.
"I'll have to, won't I? The settlement won't accept me if this gets out," he stated calmly, and Zillo realized that this was much of what had taken the boy so long to answer. Unlike Maddok, he thought out the consequences of his actions. He nodded his approval, and Brandon smiled.
-
"Father. Zillo and Maddok agree that I would be better off if I stayed in the village." Brandon looked up at his father hope warring with sadness in his eyes. His father sighed heavily.
"Aye, and I agree too. I just don't want you to go. You're the only son I have still here. With your brother gone, I just want to keep you close. But that's not best for you. Don't think I haven't noticed the way the other boys are treating you." He held his arms out, offering a rare embrace that Brandon fell into without thought. "You will pack, and leave at the end of the week." Brandon nodded. "Come. We must tell your mother."
Brandon's mother cried, but at last agreed that it was for the best. A letter came from Richard and Zylle, and they approved of his move, though nobody could figure out how they knew. Judging by the odd looks that Brandon garnered after it's arrival, he thought that it was probably a good thing he was removing himself from the settlement's eye.
-
A couple weeks after he moved in with Zillo and Maddok, Brandon and Maddok were reclining beside the river, still dripping wet, though they had long ago removed their shirts, and were laying on their stomachs soaking up the sun until Zillo called them. Brandon had become comfortable shirtless very quickly; Maddok said that he wasn't made for the strict rules of the English settlement.
"Brandon?!" the shocked exclimation had him jumping to his feet, hand flying –not towards his shirt, as his visitor expected, but towards his long knife, which the People of the Wind had reluctantly adopted to defend themselves with.
"Davie?" he asked confused. "What are you doing here?" David Higgens sighed.
"I missed you, Brandon. You always were my best friend." Brandon looked sad.
"No, Davie. We haven't been best friends since you sided with them on burning Zylle. Though you haven't been as bad as most of the other boys." Davie looked ashamed.
"But Brandon . . .." Brandon shook his head.
"You made your choice which side to stand on then. And you haven't changed it since. You were just as willing to condemn me as you were her."
"No! You're still my best friend, Brandon. But I had to act like it, because Pa still wants Lizzi to marry Mr. Mortiman's son. So I can't offend him." He looked so sad; Brandon took pity on him, moving to hug him without thinking. Davie flinched back away from his embrace. Maddok made a face.
"You English. So formal about touching. Took forever to break Brandon of that," he laughed. David relaxed slowly.
-
"Man, I thought he would never leave," Maddok sighed, curling up against Brandon that night. "I mean, Davie was great when we were kids, but he's to easily influenced. That's one of the things I like about you, you never let anyone let you convince you of anything you didn't want to believe." Brandon smiled and pillowed his head against Maddok's shoulder.
"Hmm. You talk a lot, you know?" Brandon murmured back. Maddok stared at him for a moment, nonplussed, then grinned and abandoned talking, placing his lips instead over Brandon's. Brandon moaned his approval as he pulled Maddok closer. Zillo looked up, and sighed, reaching out to pull the curtains across their sleeping cubby, because there are just some things fathers should not see.