TITLE: "Q'uathai"
AUTHOR: Aiobheann
RATING: R for language, implied m/m sexual activity.
PAIRING: John/D'Argo
SUMMARY: Crichton learns more about the Sword Brother bond, and about D'Argo's feelings about him. Part 9 of the "Blood Brothers" series.
NOTES: I have played with Luxan culture quite a bit in the "Blood Brothers" series with the creation of the Sword Brothers bond. In these stories, the Luxan word Q'uathai denotes the elder or dominant partner in a bondmate pairing, and Q'uathali denotes the younger or submissive brother.
DISCLAIMER: These fine gents don't belong to me; Henson has that honor. I just play with them every chance I get. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made here...all done outta love. Story itself copyright Aiobheann, 1999.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please. slashdiva@yahoo.com
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: A big thank you to WitchQueen for the suggestion that started the idea for this story brewing in my head. I owe you one!
Crichton elbowed his way through the crush of beings in the bazaar's crowded aisles, occasionally popping up on tip toes in search of D'Argo, who towered over almost everyone else here. His sword brother had walked away to look at something, leaving John deep in conversation with a merchant over the items he was haggling for. When that was done, his purchases tucked away, he had begun looking for D'Argo, eager to get off this planet and back to Moya.
Jumping up to get a look over the sea of heads once again, he spied D'Argo, standing with his back to him farther down the aisle. Grinning, he made his way over and stopped just behind him.
"Hey, babe -- Aeryn says we gotta book it back to the transport and help her load some stuff." D'Argo ignored him, continuing to sort through the wares in the booth. "Come on, big guy. The sooner we get back to Moya, the sooner we can..." Glancing around the crowded market to make sure he wasn't being observed, Crichton reached out and grabbed a handful of his lover's ass, giving a playful squeeze.
Before he could blink, Crichton felt himself lifted off his feet and slammed against a nearby wall, dangling from the grip of a Luxan he had never seen before.
"You dare to put your hands on me?" the stranger seethed, reaching back over his shoulder with the hand not fisted in Crichton's T-shirt and drawing the Qualta blade sheathed at his back.
"It was a mistake! I thought you were --"
"A mistake you will never make again, PeaceKeeper." The Luxan said quietly, bringing the point of the blade to bear on Crichton's throat. Crichton stared up into the unfamiliar face, now seeing that this Luxan bore a long, curving scar down one cheek, and had darker red hair than D'Argo.
"Listen, I was just looking for my -- "
"Q'uathai, kinsman. Put him down." D'Argo appeared behind the Luxan, hands spread, palms up.
The Luxan dropped Crichton to the ground, turning to stare at the newcomer.
"He is your sword brother?" the Luxan asked incredulously. He looked back at Crichton, who was straightening up, tucking his T-shirt back into his pants, then back to D'Argo. Contemptuously, he sheathed his blade, turning his back to Crichton. D'Argo grimaced -- Crichton may not have understood what an insult he had just been dealt, but he understood it all too well. By turning his back and putting away his weapon, this Luxan signified that Crichton was beneath his notice, not enough of a threat to concern himself with.
"He is Sebeacean!" the stranger spat. "You would take a PeaceKeeper barbarian as your bondmate?"
Crichton opened his mouth to reply, but D'Argo held up a hand to silence him. "He is human, not Sebeacean. And yes, he is my bondmate. If he offended you, the fault is mine."
"No, D'Argo, it was a misunderstanding." Crichton began.
D'Argo held his up hand again, an angry light of warning in his eyes. "The fault is mine." he said firmly. His hand strayed toward the Qualta blade sheathed at his back. If need be, he would fight this stranger to defend Crichton. As Crichton's sword brother, any insult to one of them was an insult to both. Any offense committed by either of them was the responsibility of both as well. The vow demanded his response -- but even if it had not, the love he felt for Crichton would have compelled him to die to protect him. He drew his blade and settled it in his hands, issuing a silent challenge.
The two Luxans squared off, glaring at each other and beginning to pace, circling each other, taking the other's measure in preparation for battle. The stranger reached back over his shoulder and drew his own blade, holding it at the ready, accepting the other's challenge. It was to be expected, even from a Luxan so debased as to take a Sebeacean as his bondmate -- he would fight to atone for his Q'uathali's insult. The stranger decided that even if he killed this Luxan, he would kill the Q'uathali as well, code of Brotherhood be damned. He was Sebacean -- not their kind, and he deserved nothing less than to die for presuming to know their ways.
Crichton moved to stand next to D'Argo. "Listen, there is no need to get upset about this. I thought you were someone else, and I apologize. OK?"
The Luxan ignored him, refusing to even look in Crichton's direction. "If you are truly the Q'uathai of this insolent creature, you would do well to teach him our ways. I should kill him for even daring to speak to me."
"Touch him and you will die." D'Argo hissed, balancing on the balls of his feet and preparing to strike.
The barrel of a pulse rifle appeared at the other Luxan's shoulder, leveled at his head. "And if he doesn't kill you," Aeryn said, "I will."
The Luxan glanced down at her, a grimace of disgust spreading across his face. "Another one?" he asked. "You have disgraced yourself, kinsman." he spat, making the polite form of address sound like a curse. "You take a Peacekeeper as your bondmate, and you allow a Sebeacean female to defend you. It would be a worthless effort to kill you -- better you remain with these barbarians, if you have no more honor than to do anything but kill their kind." He pushed Aeryn aside, stalking away down the crowded aisle of the bazaar.
"D'Argo, I'm sorry, I didn't -- " Crichton began.
"We will discuss this later, Crichton." He turned to Aeryn, looking at her silently for a long moment. "I do not need you to fight my battles for me, Peacekeeper."
A closed, cold look came over Aeryn's face, and she lowered the pulse rifle, slinging it over her shoulder and turning to walk back to the transport.
"But I thank you for...protecting Crichton." D'Argo added.
Aeryn stopped, her back still turned. Without looking back, she said softly, "He is important to you. And I owe you both a debt for saving my life, Luxan. Consider my debt repaid."
D'Argo nodded, watching her receding form as it was swallowed in the crowd. He turned back to Crichton, sheathing his blade and seizing him by the arm, pushing him ahead of him as they followed Aeryn.
"What was that all about? What's a 'Q'uathai' and why did that guy get so pissed at me? I tried to apologize! And what's the deal with Aeryn? What did she mean -- "
"Shut up, Crichton. We will discuss this in private." D'Argo said firmly. Crichton gave up, knowing from painful experience what that tone meant. Might as well try to get blood from a stone than try to get D'Argo to talk before he was ready.
D'Argo remained silent all through the evening meal, leaving Crichton to worry and wonder just how badly he had fucked up. He felt like a ten year old, waiting for Dad to get home and find out that he had broken the dining room window. Aeryn ate in her quarters, avoiding all of them. He had caught several eloquent glances from Zhaan, which did not make him feel any better. It was either understanding because D'Argo was obviously pissed at him...or pity because she thought he was having his last meal before his sentence was carried out.
He snuck a glance at D'Argo, who had pushed his chair back and moved to stand at the door of the galley. He stopped and waited there, facing out into the corridor like a statue, and Crichton swallowed thickly and rose from his chair as well. When D'Argo heard him rise, he walked off down the corridor, and Crichton followed him, wondering again just how bad it was going to be, feeling like he was slinking off to the woodshed to get his punishment.
When they reached the crew quarters, D'Argo went into his cell, and Crichton wasn't sure if he was supposed to follow or go to his own. He hung back in the doorway of D'Argo's quarters, and D'Argo finally turned and looked at him, the face which had been closed and cold ever since they had returned to Moya now startlingly full of emotion...but not anger. Crichton took a step toward him and was shocked to be dragged roughly into D'Argo's arms and pulled against the Luxan's chest, and held tightly.
"Stupid." D'Argo murmured softly against the top of his head. "You could have been killed."
"D'Argo, I'm sorry, it was just a mistake. I thought he was you." Crichton squirmed in his bondmate's arms, trying to keep from having the breath squeezed out of him.
"You were not stupid, John. I was."
Crichton pulled away to stare up into D'Argo's face. "I wasn't stupid. This is new." He smiled, reaching up to touch D'Argo's cheek. D'Argo leaned into the caress but continued to look down at him with that strange look in his eyes -- fear? Anguish? Concerned, Crichton quickly said, "It was a joke, babe."
D'Argo smiled back down at him, and Crichton knew that something was really wrong then -- this wasn't the way things were supposed to go. The natural order of things in their lives went thus: Crichton does something stupid. D'Argo gets mad. Crichton makes a joke to lighten the mood. D'Argo scowls and lectures. They end up in bed. And all is well. But D'Argo wasn't lecturing, or scowling, or grumbling about stupid humans...he was looking at Crichton with that strange expression and smiling, even though there was pain and worry in his eyes.
Crichton pushed away and grasped D'Argo's shoulders, steering him toward the bed and guiding him to sit down.
"OK, talk. You're scaring me, all right, so talk." He stood back and crossed his arms, doing his best to adopt D'Argo's stern This better be good look.
"I...I'm sorry that I was not there to protect you today. The other Luxan believed you were Sebeacean...that made him angry."
"I got that part. Believe me." Crichton continued to stand with his arms crossed, waiting.
"The sword brother bond is not something that is ever shared with a warrior of another race. An old legend tells of the first Luxan warriors -- they were unbeatable, and they defeated any enemy that stood against them. They grew too proud and boastful, and as punishment, the gods tore each of their souls in two, casting each half into a separate body. It is said that the sword brother bond is sworn when two of those half-souls find each other...united, they again become invincible. Because of this, it is understood that the bond can be shared only with another Luxan...to do otherwise would be to suggest that a Luxan soul is trapped in a body...not fit for it."
"'Not fit for it.'" John echoed. "Good old racism. And here I thought the PeaceKeepers cornered the market in that." He walked away, moving across the room and showing D'Argo his back. "So is that what you think of me? Did you take this vow with me because there wasn't anybody else?"
"No. You may not be Luxan warrior...but you are a warrior. You are brave in ways that I cannot even begin to be. Your mind is your weapon, and you use it like one. From you, I have learned that battle is not always the best way, or the only way. You have a warrior's heart, John. You love without question, and you speak with your heart and your mind. You will fight to protect those you love, without thought for your own safety. All those things make you braver than I could ever be, and make me proud to have sworn the oath with you." D'Argo stopped, unable to continue with only John's back to look at. He stared down at his hands, clenched into fists on his knees, waiting. It had been harder than John would ever understand to say those words, and he wondered whether he would be understood or laughed at. He prayed for the former.
He heard Crichton cross the room toward him, could see him kneel down in front of him just out of the range if his downcast eyes. Still staring down at his fists, he saw Crichton extend his hands and lay them over his, the warmth of his palms almost shocking against his skin. Crichton gently pried open D'Argo's clenched fists and laced his fingers through D'Argo's.
"Babe. Look at me."
D'Argo raised his head and saw his bondmate looking at him with those impossible blue eyes -- eyes of a color he had never seen on any other being, a blue that was at once silvered and reflective but held depths and shades that he was only just beginning to see. He had wondered if all humans had eyes like this, but it seemed fitting to him that only John would have those eyes. He looked so much like a PeaceKeeper -- but in the end, he was simply John, human and exotic and unique and confusing.
"Thank you. I know it just about killed you to say all that, and I heard it, every single word of it. Even the stuff you couldn't say out loud, that scared you too much to say, that you kept in here -- " He pulled one hand free and tapped D'Argo's chest. " -- I heard all of it. I always do. You may not be the most talkative son of a bitch I ever met, but you're mine, and I understand you, even when you don't talk out loud."
"Two halves of the same soul..." D'Argo said musingly.
"Yeah. I always thought that was a bunch of crap. Some humans believe in soulmates, too, you know. I was never one of them. But...I know what I feel. I never expected this, I never thought this was where I would end up, loving another man...but this has got to be where I belong. Hell, think of the odds I had to beat to get here -- in a part of the universe probably a billion miles away from where I started. If we are soulmates, and somebody up there, my God or yours, wanted us to be together that bad -- who am I to argue? I'm happy here. And I don't care what anybody says, not that Luxan today, not anyone, is gonna tell me that I don't belong right here with you. Got it?"
"Got it." D'Argo said, smiling. He leaned down and grasped Crichton's waist, lifted him up until he was straddling his lap, and lay back on the bed with Crichton on top of him.
Crichton squirmed upwards until they were face to face, leaning down to kiss D'Argo, his hands braced on either side of the Luxan's head. D'Argo reached up and gently turned Crichton's head to the side, burying his face in his throat, eager to hear the soft, gasping moans that his bondmate made when he found just the right spot. Crichton did begin to make those exact noises, thrusting his hips down against D'Argo, and D'Argo lost control, his kisses changing from sweet and gentle to rough, biting, devouring the smooth skin along Crichton's jaw. He grabbed Crichton's hips and pulled at him, rolling the two of them over so that he could grind down on top of him and cover him with his body.
They rolled across the bed, sliding too close to the curved end at the foot and sliding down onto the floor. D'Argo was too consumed to care, but he stopped when he realized that Crichton's noises of pleasure had turned into gasps of laughter.
"Ow! Man, I know I said I was right where I belonged, but -- can we belong on the bed?"
"Later." D'Argo growled, and set about making sure his bondmate forgot all about laughing.
"Hey."
"What?"
"You awake?" Crichton lifted his head and looked up at D'Argo.
"Yes."
"Can we get up off the floor now? I think I'm gonna stick to it if we stay here much longer."
"All right." D'Argo edged out from under Crichton's weight and heaved himself to his feet, extending a hand to help him up.
"Ouch. Wild monkey love on the floor is definitely overrated." Crichton muttered, rubbing at his sore back. D'Argo shot him a confused look, and he laughed. "Forget it. You are never gonna understand all my little earth-isms, so you might as well quit while you're ahead, OK?"
D'Argo grumbled something under his breath, settling back against the pillows, and let out a small ooof when Crichton flopped down and sprawled across him.
"Now this is more like it -- a nice bed and my favorite pillow." He scooted around, trying to find a comfortable place to lay his head on D'Argo's broad chest. "A little hard, though."
"You were not complaining about hard a few microts ago."
"Nope." Crichton replied, finally satisfied with his head on D'Argo's shoulder. After a few moments of companionable silence, he said, "What did you mean about I wasn't the stupid one?"
"Hmmm?"
"Before we --" Crichton gestured at the floor. "You said that I wasn't the one who was stupid this time, that you were."
"Oh. I never told you about the customs of my people concerning sword brothers."
"Does this have anything to do with that 'Q'uathai' thing?"
"Yes. A Q'uathai is the elder, dominant partner in a pairing."
"And you told that guy that you were my Q'uathai, right?" Crichton asked.
"I had to. He would have killed you if I had not. By proclaiming myself the elder partner, I had the responsibility to discipline you, and if you had given offense, the fault would be mine for not controlling you. I did it to protect you, John. If I had not, he would have tried to kill you, rather than accept my challenge and fight me." D'Argo was looking at him with that pained look in his eyes again.
"And 'Q'uathali'...that would be the younger brother, right? The submissive one." Crichton said.
"Yes." D'Argo closed his eyes for a moment, and then said softly, "I am sorry, John. I did not mean it to hurt you."
"Hurt me? Why? Because you kept this guy from kicking the shit out of me? I think that would have hurt a lot more than you pretending to be my big brother."
"You are not angry that I claimed dominance over you?"
John laughed. "Why should I be? Did you think I would get all offended or something? Shit, I know the difference between you protecting me and you trying to get all macho on me. I know that that's not who we are. We're not a Q'uathai and Q'uathali...we're D'Argo and John, and we are a lot more than just dominance and strength and customs. I know you did it because you love me."
D'Argo smiled, and some of that worried look seemed to go out of his eyes.
"And because you know a good piece of ass when you find it." John said, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.
D'Argo laughed and reached down to grab John's behind. "I have never heard it called quite that before," He gave a squeeze for emphasis. "But it suits you."
"How romantic. I'm your piece of ass." John snorted, poking him in the ribs.
"May I remind you that it was your -- what do you call it? -- earth-ism?"
"Yeah, blame it on the human. Story of my life." John said. He rolled over onto his back, head still cushioned on D'Argo's shoulder. After a few moments, he rolled onto his side again, propping himself up on his elbow.
"Hey."
"No more, John. I'm too old for this." D'Argo groaned, shaking his head.
"Old, my ass. Don't forget, I just had a birthday, big guy. I'm two cycles older than you, remember?"
"How could I forget?" D'Argo grumbled. Vivid memories of carrying a drunken Crichton to hezmana and back flashed before his eyes.
"Besides, I wasn't talking about that. My back still hurts from our little romp on the floor. Why didn't you ever tell me all that stuff about the Q'uathai and Q'uathali?"
"Because there was no need."
"Because I'm not Luxan?"
"No. As you said, we are more than that. What we have is something entirely new. You are my equal, and there was no need to teach you those titles, for we would never need them."
"Oh."
There was silence for several moments. D'Argo lay back and savored the thought of Crichton startled into silence, feeling quite proud of himself.
"So we're equals, right?"
"Yes."
"Does this mean I get to be on top half the time now? I mean, you said yourself that we're equals." Crichton was looking down at him, a sly smile spreading across his face.
"John..."
"Hey, I'm just asking in the interest of fairness, you understand. But, um, I think there's a definite problem with this equals stuff."
"What?" D'Argo asked suspiciously.
"Well, by my count, you've been on top a lot more times than I have."
"And?"
"I think there's a power imbalance here that needs to be addressed."
"I thought you said your back hurt."
"I can overlook that...in the interest of fairness." Crichton got onto his knees and straddled his bondmate's waist, pushing the long braids of D'Argo's mustaches aside and bending to nip lightly at his throat.
"Fairness." D'Argo said, voice pitched low and deep.
"Uh-huh. Isn't equality a wonderful thing?"
Blood Brothers series by Aiobheann Blood Brothers: BB 1 Sword Brothers: BB 2 Brothers At Play: BB 3 New Games: BB 4
Slip of the Tongue: BB 5 Dance With the One You Came With: BB 6 Sleeping Arrangements: BB 7
Reluctant Witness: BB 8 Q'uathai: BB 9 Fine Things: BB 10 Chant: BB 11
Dark Brothers