David T./D.T. Brandt - Settler on Stolen Land

@queerpointyears.bsky.social

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(he/him) PanEnby writer of queer fantasy romance. 40. No A.I. EVER. I also play a LOT of board games. Banner art & pfp by @sheilkuroi. dtbrandt.com RIP X: Nov 16, 2024

“There’s a couple people I tend to end up heading home with after a night of partying, but we’re sort of colleagues, too.” “Sounds pretty casual,” Krainos said. “Hopefully no one regrets it in the morning?” “There’s a lot of… forgive and forget,” Xenon said. “There’s a certain order of priorities around here, and in the grand scheme of things infidelity is pretty low. Apologize, have a drink over it, and screw ‘em both the next night to smooth the whole thing over.”
“Well, my parents work as farmers in Eluria,” he said. “They raise sheep, and grow a garden of plants, like a rainbow along the ground, and they’ve supplied Penelope with wool and dyes extracted from the petals since before I was born.” “So you were a natural fit,” Xenon surmised. Krainos shrugged. “She has other employees, older than me,” he said. He looked down at his balled, hidden hand. “My parents said being a merchant was in my bones. I used to have a little stand that they’d let me put up next to theirs in the local market.
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Her eyes were unmoved, revealing nothing. “He likes what he likes,” she repeated. “Now, do you think he’s cute or not?” Xenon pondered. “We're outta town in two more days, back to the road,” Penelope added. “Or are you more of the attached feelings type?” Xenon knew the answer was a yes and couldn’t say it, but he didn’t want to lie either. “If he's wing-deep in his hormones, he will be.” She leaned further in, granting him the unanswered question. Or could she tell?. “If he's going to be a caravan merchant, he needs to figure out what to do with those feelings. And once we leave, those'll be my problem, not yours.”
A slender shirtless smiling satyr with bronze skin and long, braided silver hair, white horse ears, and wings, sits on the lap of, and nuzzles, a brown-furred minotaur with white horns protruding from the sides of its head.
“If you thought my massage was something, wait until the water seeps into your muscles,” he said. He dropped his cloak to the ground, and his sash quickly followed. “It’s practically divine.” Krainos looked around, taking the sights in further. “It’s beautiful!” he said, and returned his focus to a mostly-naked Xenon. “No one else comes up here?” “I’ve reserved it for us,” Xenon replied. Reserved it? “And no one in the whole town will try to show up?” Xenon snorted. “I’d like to see them try.” He dropped his loincloth on the pile and stepped over to Krainos, hooking a finger into his rope belt. “Do you trust me?”
“Then I can do at least as much for you!” Krainos pleaded softly. “Come visit me when I’m near. I can write out the calendar.” And be vulnerable? And leave his fellows more vulnerable? “Krainos, I can’t.” The Equavien shook his head. “You keep saying that! I don’t understand!” “No, you don’t,” Xenon replied firmly. “So make me!” Krainos’s brow creased again. “You. Can’t.” “Why not?” The concern left and the anger returned. “Because I’m too young t—” Krainos’s eyes went wide and his hands clapped over his mouth. Xenon reeled back from the shock of it. “I never said that. I’ve *never* said that.” “No, of course,” Krainos said. “I’m sorry.”
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Xenon took another deep breath as he sought the next words. Krainos was suddenly a turtledove in his hands. “There are people here younger than you who understand. But you don’t live here so you can’t. And you can’t live here. You only know what this place is like on its quietest days. And even though today’s been pretty noisy, it’s quieter than it’s been. But I have people here counting on me to help keep them safe. Like you have people counting on you.” Krainos nodded, his wine-red eyes dodging to the floor. Xenon leaned in and kissed his silver-swept forehead, and the artisan’s hands reached around his waist.
“And if you throw it on the ground to try to stop me from stomping in a puddle or something, I won’t be drying it out for you a second time, mister.” He shook it out, righted it, and offered it back to its rightful owner. Xenon chuckled as he took his cloak and flung it back around himself. Penelope was right, but not about his fourteen years. This kid—this younger man—was making this feel easy. “My doormat’s just as good for your hooves as my boots,” he said.
Xenon looked up at the Equavien’s barely focused eyes. The touch was starting to hypnotize them both. He took Krainos’s hand in his own, and brought the fingers to his lips where he licked the sticky tip of each one. “Xenon…” The Bovien picked up the serving spoon, and drizzled the sauce over all of Krainos’s fingers.
“Ha!” It was more of a rebuttal than a laugh, and Krainos’s head felt a bit heavier against him; the arms squeezed a little tighter. “What, you don’t think you’re ready yet?” Xenon turned and nuzzled Krainos’s hair with the side of his snout. “You don’t think Penelope will wait until she’s satisfied?” Krainos took another deep breath. “I’m not sure her cough is going to go away.” Xenon’s stomach sank even further. “How long have you noticed it?” The slender Equavien shrugged against him. “A couple months? There’s been no blood so it’s not…” “That’s good, at least,” Xenon replied. “For now, anyway.” Krainos nodded. “But if something did happen, with the cough or anything else, I know I’m not ready yet.” “I’m sure someone else could fill in the gaps,” Xenon said. “There are other merchants around, right? In the caravan?” “So many!” Krainos said. “I guess that’s a good point.”
Krainos’s heart soared in victory. “I also finally figured out what present I wanted to give him! Can I have some of the white muslin? Just a scrap. You can even dock my pay if you want!” Penelope waved her hand permissively. “I know you’ve been on a dry spell, but you are really getting into this man.” “Yeah,” Krainos said half-attentively as he clopped over to the trunk and heaved the lid open. “I have to make the most of it, y’know? Get it out of my system or whatever.” He was in a rush, but he wasn’t messy; he took their ring of samples and set it carefully on the bed, as with the long, unwieldy bolts atop their box of scraps.
The rooster crowed for the first time, at least that Krainos had heard. Xenon was a mound beside him, of softness and warmth and strength and desire. He turned into the Bovien and wriggled closer, the hot air from Xenon’s snout tickling between his ears and seeping into his hair. He breathed as slowly as he could, not willing himself to sleep but to patience. Even so, it seemed Xenon’s chest moved and the whooshes came faster. Was Xenon enjoying it? Cherishing it? Of course not, Krainos reasoned with himself. The Bovien was asleep. He brushed against the short fur on Xenon’s arm, where the bristles looked a little thinner. The scar from last year’s injury was still there, the skin raised and pinker. Xenon snorted and shifted, so Krainos smoothed it back down. “Sorry,” he whispered, in case he didn’t actually wake his partner up. “Hmmm?” The Bovien drawled. “Nothing, darling,” Krainos said. He kissed the side of Xenon’s muzzle.
“If you really want to follow Comet so badly, so be it,” she said. “But I think you’ll find you and your little assistant will be happier if you cooperate.” Tess. Krainos stilled immediately. “She’s just here visiting family,” he said. “Whatever this is, I’m the one you want.” The Drachien beyond the burlap chuckled. “Yes, you certainly are. Blitzen?” A low, quiet grunt answered, and Krainos found himself wrapped up in an embrace and laid into some kind of wagon.
Where should he even begin? Was that green Drachien his best lead? Where was she? Who would know her? It was times like this he really missed Penelope. His hooves set him off down the street toward Xenon’s old apartment, even though it’d been years since he moved out to…wherever he’d moved to. But that apartment was where they’d begun, and a beginning was exactly what Krainos needed.
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‘Assurance,’ huh? “No.” “What the hell?” Vahn whipped around, his tail lashing around behind him and thankfully finding only empty room. He spread his arms and his wings unfurled with extra emphasis he didn’t intend but wholly appreciated. “Can you do anything on your own instead of relying on other people’s work to do it for you?” “Excuse me?” “‘Make this potion, Vahn.’ ‘Make that potion, Vahn.’ ‘I’m in my final year of my Master’s but I need a little liquid courage to make my words better because mine aren’t good enough on my own, Vahn.’”
“I’ve heard you’ve been having a rough go of it up here. Have things calmed down over the last few months?” “Yeah…” The wagon rocked as the man climbed into the back. “Please mind the bolt of fabric,” Krainos said. “My customer is very particular, and while I can mend it if the tip catches on it, his eye is most discerning.” “Well, he’ll understand it’s for his safety,” the guard replied. “What are you usually up against?” Krainos asked. “I hear they even attack civilians sometimes.” “That’s what we’re here for, so you don’t have to worry about it.” The armor clanked as he walked through the wagon. He stomped on the boards. “Pretty light carriage,” he said.
She leaned further in, granting him the unanswered question. Or could she tell? “If he's going to be a caravan merchant, he needs to figure out what to do with those feelings. And once we leave, those'll be my problem, not yours.” Xenon pondered harder. “I don't want you to fake anything, but if he read you wrong, I at least want to let him know. And I'll cover your tab if he did.” Xenon sighed, reached into the folds of his tunic, and slammed a few coins on the table. “I can't believe I'm doing this.” Penelope smirked and stood, victorious. “Hey bud, we all need a little nudge once in a while. I just need him to check in tomorrow morning so I don't have to come find you.” She clapped a hand to Xenon's shoulder. “Have fun!”
“No competitors?” Krainos shook his head. “None yet, when you do what Penelope does, as well as she does, with what she does. There are other cloth merchants, sure, but they tend to be local to the cities and carry local wares. Plus, we make the East-West run. Not many people are cut out for that when they can just pay us.”
Xenon plonked himself down on the cushion, and fetched his tunic from the armrest. “Then how about I make it up to you tonight?” Krainos’s heart dared to skip. If he’d be stuck here until morning with his love anyway… “I think that's acceptable,” he replied with mock dryness. “I thought you might.” Xenon looked up at him with mirth in his eyes as he put his arm through one sleeve. The years between them, since they met, suddenly brought a question to the surface. “Wait, have you killed people?” Krainos asked. Xenon looked down, and after he took a breath, the joy was replaced by a weariness Krainos hadn’t seen in a long time. “It's life and death out there, kallos.”
Xenon pulled his foot back and tucked it under his chair. “I'm almost forty, kid. I'm almost twice your age. I could be your parent.” Krainos's ears ticked down. “Oh.” The hoof scraped across the floor as Krainos returned it to his side of the table. He put on a forced smile, Xenon could tell. “Though I’m not a kid, unless the goats up here have wings.” He carefully wiggled his white pinions in the cramped space. Xenon gestured across the table. “And look at you! You could have your pick of anyone in the city. Cryzmis is full of tourists these days. You can do far better than a lout like me.” Xenon brought his mug back to his lips. Krainos sipped at his mug slowly. Forlornly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t desire you.” Xenon leaned further over the table. “Plus, you're a caravan merchant. You probably have at least one lover in every—” Krainos slammed his mug on the table, the cocoa splashing over the rim. His wine-colored eyes were narrowed to sharp points. “You can just say ‘no,’ you know.”
“Caravan's not bad if you don't mind the company,” Xenon said. He took a swig of his ale. Krainos shook his head. “You can keep to the people you like. At least that's what I've found.” He smirked. “Assholes kinda take care of themselves. And Penelope's been good. Tough, but good.” “She lets you have drinks with strange old men,” Xenon said. “How tough can she be?” Krainos quirked a brow and his smirk widened. “Well, let's say you just don't do anything to find out, hm?”
Joren smirked. “Then how about I buy a spoonful off of you? For a rainy day and an adequate room?” Vahn sucked his bottom lip and worried it between his front teeth as he considered. “I mean, there’s always a little leftover from the batch…” “Not this time there isn’t. How much for a spoonful?” Vahn did some quick math in his head. “Quarter-gil.” Seemed about right. Joren pulled a coin out of the purse in his sash and passed it to his upper hand, which he used to flick it toward the dragon. “Catch!” Vahn put out both hands to do so, and cupped them together. The coin did land in it, and he tucked it away.
Krainos sat down on the couch and laid himself comfortable. The necklace slid from center to rest on the left side of his chest, down by his nipple. He watched the Bovien mind the fire, and caught the dark eyes when Xenon took a look. Neither of them said anything, Krainos just luxuriated in the quiet morning while Xenon seemed just as content to glance over as the pan heated and the eggs cooked.
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We're outta town in two more days, back to the road,” Penelope added. “Or are you more of the attached feelings type?” Xenon knew the answer was a yes and couldn’t say it, but he didn’t want to lie either. “If he's wing-deep in his hormones, he will be.” She leaned further in, granting him the unanswered question. Or could she tell?. “If he's going to be a caravan merchant, he needs to figure out what to do with those feelings. And once we leave, those'll be my problem, not yours.” Xenon pondered harder.
Shit, Xenon thought as he fell toward the snow covered street. It wasn't his first fall, not by a long shot, but the ones he didn't see coming were always the worst. Punches to the face were easy—spin and spread out the contact as you hit the ground—but tumbling from the narrow driver's bench pitching from a splintered axle presented a series of less than common obstacles.
“What is so funny? Do not mock me for this!” I shook my head. “No, I do not mock. I am simply amused that you bemoan the difficulty of your love when it is my very life that hangs in the balance.” “That does not change the fact that this isn’t easy for me,” she said. “There are things at play here that you do not understand either. The nature of the contest is changing soon. Aubrey will have to demonstrate talent he simply does not have.” “But it is talent you can make him appear to have,” I countered.
“I’ll be fine, Krainos. Really.” He waved the Equavien’s concern off, with an appropriate burning ache in his upper arm. So maybe it did need a rinse. “But if you must, there’s a basket of supplies in the washroom there.” “Thanks! Hmm…” “The lamp is—” There was a snap of fingers and another crackle and whoosh. The soft, warm light of the lamp silhouetted Krainos as he looked about. “Ah! Here we go.” And he returned to the bedroom with it. There were a couple bottles and some bandages too, and Krainos set them on the side table. “I’ll get some water and a towel, too.”
“Do you trust me?” Xenon had promised Penelope, Krainos remembered. And Penelope was too protective. Besides, if even she let him into Xenon’s care, he had to be trustworthy. He felt a smirk tugging at his cheek. “I do,” he said. He cast off his own cloak and flung his arms around Xenon’s neck, craning up to kiss the dark lips.
Solstice eve. The air was hardly cold on Xenon’s fur, but his more sensitive nose felt the icy burn with each breath. He set off for the Green Dragon Inn, the last inn on this side of the city still under the Syndicate’s protection. They’d lost two in the last year, as the Guard had pushed the lines back. But at least this year, he and Krainos still had this night and the next to enjoy. Next year? It was a coin flip, as it was this year, that Xenon would even still be alive. There was a new Donner, and a new Vixen.
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“She said if she killed me that [SPOILER] would understand.” “Well, I wouldn’t.” Krainos leaned closer against him and stretched himself up toward his ear and whispered. “She said if you didn’t, that she would slit your throat next.” A sadness clenched at Xenon’s chest, but he was hardly surprised. “Very well. Thank you for telling me.” “And if she did, I would have to slit hers,” Krainos replied. Xenon couldn’t stifle a chuckle. “I know, I don’t stand a chance against her, I just—” Xenon drew and sighed out a deep breath. “Oh, my snow-white pure thing,” he said. He would have to wait to kill Cupid until after Krainos left. Detained, however… “I’ll have a talk with her later.”
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His tail swished away from his trailing hip as the necklace bounced off his leading side and settled back in the center. Xenon’s eyes narrowed as he hummed appreciatively. “It looks incredible on you. You like it?” “Of course! I love it!” Krainos held it up to the light some more, saw how it fit in his palm, how the edge of the wings felt against his fingers. “Good.” He kissed Krainos’s forehead. “Now let’s truly start the day, hm?” He stepped away and knelt in front of the stove, then started fussing with it. “Is there anything I can do?” Krainos offered. “Lay on the sofa and look pretty for a bit?” Xenon replied.
“And if you throw it on the ground to try to stop me from stomping in a puddle or something, I won’t be drying it out for you a second time, mister.” He shook it out, righted it, and offered it back to its rightful owner. Xenon chuckled as he took his cloak and flung it back around himself. Penelope was right, but not about his fourteen years. This kid—this younger man—was making this feel easy. “My doormat’s just as good for your hooves as my boots,” he said. Once Xenon was sorted, Krainos nodded and stepped into the hallway with him. They headed down the hallway, and the words started flowing again between them as they traveled the darkening streets toward Xenon’s house.
“But you’re not immune to the charms of a travelling merchant ‘almost half your age.’” “Of course not!” Xenon said. “You just seemed a whole world, a whole era away from where I am. And you more or less are, on both counts. You’re nice to admire, but I’m still struggling figuring out what I’m doing right now.” Krainos slipped his hand into Xenon’s. Xenon squeezed it lightly. “I think we’ll figure it out,” Krainos said. “I hope you’re right,” Xenon said.