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elrhiarhodanTitle: The Binding
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Reese Hughes, Rachel Turner, Yvonne; Peter/Neal, Reese/Rachel
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~3500
Beta Credit:sinfulslasher
Summary: Set in the Dragon'verse A/U, a direct sequel to Consequences of the Storm , Peter and Neal's new relationship causes problems for everyone.
A/N: For the third night of Fic-Can-Ukah, forriverotter1951, who asked for a story for the prompt "Lost in the Shadows of Time Past". She'd wanted Gloriana'verse, but was happy to accept a story in Dragon'Verse.
__________________
Reese woke as the storm started to crest over Manhattan, the powerful waves of electricity pulling at his skin. Despite the somewhat aged appearance of his soft-skinned form, he was a Dracon in his prime and his control was perfect. He never broke form unless he chose to. But there was power building out there – something was calling to the elemental beast that lived in the heart of each Dracon.
Reese spent most of his time in this human form and while he was a bit of a traditionalist, he took pride in his control and lived forty-five stories above the earth, in a glass-walled box. Bancroft, his clan chief, had thought him crazy. Yes, Dracons were creatures of the sky, but they needed the earth, too – especially in difficult and dangerous times.
Bancroft had only been mollified when Hughes had shown his clan chief his fail-safe – an express elevator to the panic room he'd had constructed deep in Manhattan's granite bedrock. He still thought Hughes was crazy, but not in a way that made the Dracon doubt his wisdom.
"Reese, what's going on?"
Hughes turned from his contemplation of the coming storm back to his bed. His lover, Rebecca, was sitting up, wearing just the bed sheet, her long red hair, and greenish-gold scales that glowed in the sickly pre-storm light.
"I don't know – but we might need to take shelter." He'd never used his panic room before, but it was there for a reason – times like this when control was impossible. He picked up Rachel's clothes and tossed them to her before getting dressed.
They'd been lovers on and off for the better part of a century and she didn't take offense at his abruptness. Rachel was N'garnah – unaffiliated to any particular clan – and came and went as she pleased.
"I've never seen a storm like this." She stepped into her jeans and pulled on her sweater, not bothering with any underwear. She rubbed at her shoulders, then her breasts. "The power is … intoxicating." She took a deep breath and her pupils went from their round human shape to the sharp Draconish oval.
"Arash k'vark!" Despite the danger to the windows and the danger that was just outside them, Hughes didn't suppress the subvocalizations - he needed Rachel to maintain control. The storm was pulling him close to the edge, and if she manifested as Dracon, his control might just slip.
Hughes pulled on his clothes, and like his companion, didn't take time for undergarments. He dragged her away from the windows to what appeared to be a small closet. It was the elevator to the panic room. His palm print activated the door and just as it closed behind them, he felt the storm break over the city.
The descent was breathtakingly swift – about a floor a second. Three hundred feet underground, he shouldn't be able to sense the storm, but he could. The lightning was like a second pulse under his skin, maddening him, arousing him. With every heartbeat, he could feel his control slipping away.
Rachel's control, unsurprisingly, was gone and she'd transformed. Green-gold with silver eyes, she stretched her neck and the top of her head banged against the ceiling.
Careful.
I don't like this place. It's too small.
Hughes had to laugh. It was small, if you were Dracon and the size of a jumbo jet. Darling, whatever you do, keep your wings furled. You'll hurt yourself otherwise. A Dracon's skin was covered in armor-like scales, except for the membrane that covered the wings.
You only call me darling when you're annoyed at me. If you're not careful, I'll eat you.
Hughes took a deep breath, stripped, and let the change happen. It felt so damn good. Until he bumped his head on the ceiling.
He could feel Rachel's amusement. Careful, darling.
He laughed. Come here.
She twined her neck through his, he eased a wing over her back and they settled down.
It wouldn't be hard to kill you like this.
Hughes pulled her a little closer, the dew claw on the tip of his wing digging into the sensitive, delicate membrane of hers. You could try…
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
For the first time since he'd gotten out of prison, Neal didn't want to put on a suit. A suit meant a long sleeved shirt. A suit meant a jacket. A suit meant covering up the quasi-living Dracon on his arm.
He stood before the mirror and was thoroughly enchanted. The little Dracon was rarely still, either flexing its wings or grooming - and Neal wanted to watch when it cleaned its genitals - or chased its tail. When it was still, it was looking up at him wearing a variety of Peter-like expressions.
"You'd better get dressed." Peter was sitting at the dining table, coffee cup in hand. "Elizabeth wants to see us today."
"Hmmm, okay." But Neal made no move to put on any more clothes, opting instead to watch the Dracon on his arm.
"Neal."
He looked up - Peter's tone was stern and a touch annoyed. A tingle started at the base of his spine, something akin to the warning he was accustomed to getting whenever Peter was approaching, but it felt good, like a caress. "What did you just do to me?"
"I didn't do anything." Peter put down his cup. "Come on, get dressed. Elizabeth is waiting. We need to get upstate as soon as possible."
"Is she upset?" Even though Neal liked Peter's clan chief, she terrified him.
"A … little."
Neal swallowed, not wanting to think of the punishments she could mete out. She could eat him if she was really angry.
Reluctantly, Neal abandoned the mirror and looked around. His apartment was an utter mess – books had toppled from the shelves, artwork had fallen from the walls, and almost all of the glassware left out was cracked. Neal suspected that what was in the cupboards was in equally bad shape.
He was afraid to check the wine rack. And the French doors. And the skylights.
And then there were his clothes. The ones he'd worn yesterday were nothing more than rags scattered across the room. The suit jacket had no sleeves or lapel left. His shirt was shredded and Neal wondered if Peter had used his claws on it. The trousers were just as bad – the belt had been ripped away along with the waistband.
He sighed and gathered the remnants of what was once a very fine suit that needed to go to the rag bin. He pulled the cufflinks free from the tattered shirt cuffs and muttered, "Good thing June is away."
"Very true." There was something in Peter's tone – coupled with Elizabeth's demand for a visit – that set Neal's nerves buzzing.
He rubbed the Dracon on his arm – half startled that he felt nothing more than skin.
Peter reissued his command, "Get dressed."
Neal obeyed without question. It was a Saturday and warm enough that he could wear short sleeves, but given that Peter was dressed in a suit and tie, and this was a command performance, Neal figured that sartorial formality was required.
He put on a Baltic blue suit, white shirt, and silver gray tie, and hoped like hell that it would survive the afternoon. As he tied his shoes, he realized something - he wasn't wearing the anklet. Neal smiled.
Then something else, something both inconsequential and highly puzzling, occurred to him.
Peter was dressed in a suit and tie.
Neal had a very distinct sense memory of ripping Peter's shirt last night, after they'd gotten back here and Peter begged him to let him stay. He remembered the feel of Peter's silk tie shredding in his hand.
He went back into the apartment and took a good look at Peter, who was immaculately dressed in a dove-gray suit, white shirt and a red tie. Even though Peter was seated, Neal could tell that the suit was perfectly tailored.
"Nice trick."
"Huh?"
"Where did you get the fresh clothes?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "That's what's bothering you right now?"
"Yeah."
Peter smiled. "You didn't do such a thorough job on my suit as I did on yours. I was able to wear it when I retrieved my car from the hotel parking lot. I had a change of clothes in the trunk."
"Convenient."
"Yeah, nice how everything worked out." Peter stood. "Come on, we've got a long ride ahead of us."
Neal ignored Peter's gesture towards the door and went out to the terrace. The table and chairs were scattered, the fire pit overturned, and Neal could see scoring on the stone railing. His claw marks.
But that wasn't what he was looking for. On the floor, just out of the shadow of one of the merlons, was half of the tracker. The other half was a few feet away. Neal picked them up and showed them to Peter. "How much trouble am I in for this?"
Peter took the two plastic half-circles and pocketed them. It was odd, but Neal wanted to take them back – they were his.
"The tracker's the least of our worries."
"Our?"
"Yeah, Caffrey. Our. And if you don't get your ass out the door, it's only going to get worse."
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Despite her splitting headache, Elizabeth had been fielding calls all morning. Hysterical calls from Kin under her protection, Kin whose lives had been turned upside from last night's storm, calls from other clan chiefs and high ranking Draconis, all demanding answers.
She'd hoped that Neal Caffrey's presence would go unnoticed for another few years. It was best if everyone thought that Neal was just a young Dracon who'd become part of another's hoard. Such arrangements weren't unheard of. That was how clan scions were formed – powerful Draconis protecting Kin who needed protecting.
But last night spoiled any chance of Neal keeping a low profile. There wasn't a Dracon east of the Mississippi who didn't sense that something had happened. She was grateful that most Kin didn't know just what did happen, because that would be certain to set off a firestorm. Literally.
The clan chiefs knew a little more and they were demanding answers. About Neal, about Peter, about how she was going to handle this.
She turned off her cell phone and told Yvonne that for the next hour, the only Dracon she wanted to hear from was Peter, and the only message he should be giving was that he and Neal were on their way.
Then the messenger from the High Council came and all bets for a brief respite were off. Nine of the thirteen Council members would be flying in this afternoon, to "address the situation".
Elizabeth's headache grew exponentially. She penned a reply and gave it to the Council's messenger. From the floor-to-ceiling windows in her office, she watched the young Dracon transform and fly off, and summoned her assistant. "Yvonne, get in here, now."
Yvonne looked as frazzled as Elizabeth felt. "More bad news?"
"We're having visitors."
"The Council?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"What do you need me to do?"
"First, get all the children secure. I don't want any of those k'charic menharr - those hoard-thieves – trying to take what is mine. Next, make sure the am'halir is ready." Every clan chief was required to maintain a piece of neutral ground - am'halir - where Council members or other clan chiefs could gather without threatening the host's hoard.
This far away from the soft-skin's cities, the am'halir was big enough to accommodate more than a dozen Draconis in their true form. Most of the time, it was used as a playground by the children. The shallow bowl-shaped valley was perfect for small Draconis just learning to fly.
Yvonne asked, "What about food? Drink?"
Elizabeth sighed. This was a working farm and she was very proud of it. There were a few dozen head of prime grass-fed cattle that were carefully slaughtered and sold to a select group of butchers and restaurants in area. The herds of sheep and alpaca were raised for their wool, and the emus were all prodigious layers. She was not sacrificing a single animal to feed those greedy menharrim.
"Cater it. If anyone wants to eat, they'll do so as soft-skin. This is not a social gathering and I will not permit any hunting on my property. No alcohol, either. At least three of the attending Council members can't be trusted after the first glass."
Yvonne asked, "What else?"
"Take Satchmo and put him with the children. I'll handle the rest."
"Okay." Yvonne whistled and the old dog heaved himself out of his bed, following her out of the office.
Elizabeth paced. She was clan chief for a reason. Not only did she command a great deal of personal power and an extensive hoard, she kept her head in a crisis. But this was a crisis she had never anticipated. Yes, Peter was particularly possessive of Neal, but Neal was hoard and that was to be expected. What she hadn't expected was that Neal would have similar feelings for Peter.
She knew about Kate, of course. Peter had told her about Neal's unfortunate attachment to a suspected ascar'hic, a Kin-hater, and that he expected Neal to break the stricture against looking for the woman. She was the one who had advised Peter to give Neal a chance to see just what Kate Moreau was.
Peter had argued against that course of action, believing it better to keep Neal as far away from the woman as possible. He was Dracon and even if he didn't know that, he'd considered Kate part of his hoard. Any further contact between them would only reinforce that bond.
She'd told Peter that he needed to give Neal something to replace Kate. She just hadn't expected him to give himself.
Her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call – it was from Peter. "Where are you?"
"Just getting onto the Thruway – figured we didn't have the time for the scenic route. If the traffic stays clear, we're about three hours out."
Elizabeth did some calculations. "Floor it, Peter. You and Caffrey need to be here as soon as possible. Put the bubble on if you don't want to deal with the highway patrol."
"Or I might find myself with an escort to your door."
"Do whatever you have to, just get here."
"El, what's going on?"
"The Council's coming."
The silence at the other end of the line spoke volumes.
"You and Caffrey have created a huge problem. For me, for the whole clan."
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. But we'll deal with it."
"El – "
"Just get here as quickly as you can, Peter. And be prepared." With that, Elizabeth ended the call.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"Prepared for what?"
Peter glanced over at Neal, who was doing his best to shrink into the seat, and sighed. "A whole lot more than what I expected from this visit."
"So this isn't just getting our wrists slapped by Elizabeth, is it? She said something about a council?"
"It seems our little … stunt last night will have even more repercussions than I'd imagined, and it looks like we're going to have to answer for it." Peter hated minimizing what had happened between them – it was too profound – but it was best to keep this conversation light.
"So I guess this pair-bonding thing is more than just the Dracon equivalent of running off to Vegas and getting married without our parents' permission?"
"Apparently." This morning, when Peter received the summons, he understood Elizabeth's annoyance. The news of the Council's involvement; however, was troubling. "I'll be honest; I don't really know what's going on."
"What is this Council?"
"You know that the Draconis are divided into clans. We owe our loyalty to our clan chiefs, who in turn protect us and our personal hoards. In the bad old days, if there was trouble between the clans, we went to war."
"We were taught about the last Dracon War when I was in school. The teacher said it caused the great Lisbon earthquake and wiped a dozen Central American cities off the map."
"The 1755 earthquake? That's a stretch." Peter shook his head. "Anyway – about three hundred years ago, the major clans agreed to form the Council. Although there are many clans, there are only thirteen Council seats. Every fifty years, the seven longest-serving councilors step down and seven new councilors are elected. The Americans, when they set up the Electoral College, patterned it on our Council. Draconis do not vote directly for a councilor, it's the clan chiefs who do – they are supposed to cast their vote based on whom the members of the clan have voted for, but there is no guarantee of that."
"Power corrupts…"
Peter completed the quotation, "And absolute power corrupts absolutely. There certainly have been times where votes have been bought – and sold – but by and large, the scheme works. The Council doesn't get involved in intra-clan matters, though. There's no reason why a pair-bonding between us should be of any interest to them."
Neal reminded him, "This morning, you said everything changes."
"It does – between us. You're much more than hoard now." Unable to stop himself, Peter reached out and took Neal's hand.
"Good, I like that." Neal squeezed his hand. "It always irritated me that I was just another piece of your hoard. Like the Morgan Library or the Woolworth Building."
Peter let out a shout of laughter. "You, Neal Caffrey, were never just another piece of my hoard."
"I was the Crown Jewel?"
Peter gave Neal's hand one more squeeze before letting go. "Stop preening."
They drove in silence, Peter's big BMW eating up the miles.
Then Neal broke the peace. "Is it because I'm not from your clan?"
Peter squeezed the steering wheel so hard that the leather began to crack. He took his foot off the accelerator and steered the car over to the shoulder.
"Peter? Is everything all right?"
He wanted to bang his head against the window. "How did I not see this coming? Of course it's the reason. You're not listed in the Book of Fire; your very existence is an enigma."
"But how would they know?"
Peter stared out of the window, watching the cars and trucks with their soft-skinned, too-fragile cargo speed by. "The storm last night. The lightning. It must have broadcast our mating."
"Seriously? You're telling me that every Dracon in Manhattan knew what we were doing?"
"Not just Manhattan, Neal. Probably the whole East Coast."
Neal let out a stream of invective that would have done a sailor proud.
"This is going to be a big deal, Neal. You're going to be under a lot of scrutiny." And so will I, Elizabeth, Reese, and anyone else who knows about your existence.
"Can they take me away from you?"
"No. If you were just a part of my hoard, maybe - although they'd have to compensate me."
"Oh?" That idea - of course - intrigued Neal. "How much would I be worth?"
Peter decided to play into Neal's vanity, if just because it was the truth. "You can't count that high."
"Really?"
Peter nodded. "But that doesn't matter. We are k'charirhim. That bond is unbreakable. Our absolute laws - the ones that govern hoard and fealty, the ones that have been imprinted on us while we were still in the shell - affirm this. The rite you invoked last night is as old as the first Dracons, as old as time."
"So, you're stuck with me?"
Neal sounded distressed and Peter glanced over at him. "I completed the rite. K'charirm Ne'. K'charic ihm 'Ter. We are partners, Neal."
"Always?" There was so much hope in that single word.
"Forever."
"Good." Neal leaned over and kissed him. "Because I won't allow anyone to take you away from me. Ever. Even if I have to tear the world apart to keep you."
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: White Collar
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey, Elizabeth Burke, Reese Hughes, Rachel Turner, Yvonne; Peter/Neal, Reese/Rachel
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: None
Word Count: ~3500
Beta Credit:
sinfulslasher Summary: Set in the Dragon'verse A/U, a direct sequel to Consequences of the Storm , Peter and Neal's new relationship causes problems for everyone.
A/N: For the third night of Fic-Can-Ukah, for
riverotter1951, who asked for a story for the prompt "Lost in the Shadows of Time Past". She'd wanted Gloriana'verse, but was happy to accept a story in Dragon'Verse. Reese woke as the storm started to crest over Manhattan, the powerful waves of electricity pulling at his skin. Despite the somewhat aged appearance of his soft-skinned form, he was a Dracon in his prime and his control was perfect. He never broke form unless he chose to. But there was power building out there – something was calling to the elemental beast that lived in the heart of each Dracon.
Reese spent most of his time in this human form and while he was a bit of a traditionalist, he took pride in his control and lived forty-five stories above the earth, in a glass-walled box. Bancroft, his clan chief, had thought him crazy. Yes, Dracons were creatures of the sky, but they needed the earth, too – especially in difficult and dangerous times.
Bancroft had only been mollified when Hughes had shown his clan chief his fail-safe – an express elevator to the panic room he'd had constructed deep in Manhattan's granite bedrock. He still thought Hughes was crazy, but not in a way that made the Dracon doubt his wisdom.
"Reese, what's going on?"
Hughes turned from his contemplation of the coming storm back to his bed. His lover, Rebecca, was sitting up, wearing just the bed sheet, her long red hair, and greenish-gold scales that glowed in the sickly pre-storm light.
"I don't know – but we might need to take shelter." He'd never used his panic room before, but it was there for a reason – times like this when control was impossible. He picked up Rachel's clothes and tossed them to her before getting dressed.
They'd been lovers on and off for the better part of a century and she didn't take offense at his abruptness. Rachel was N'garnah – unaffiliated to any particular clan – and came and went as she pleased.
"I've never seen a storm like this." She stepped into her jeans and pulled on her sweater, not bothering with any underwear. She rubbed at her shoulders, then her breasts. "The power is … intoxicating." She took a deep breath and her pupils went from their round human shape to the sharp Draconish oval.
"Arash k'vark!" Despite the danger to the windows and the danger that was just outside them, Hughes didn't suppress the subvocalizations - he needed Rachel to maintain control. The storm was pulling him close to the edge, and if she manifested as Dracon, his control might just slip.
Hughes pulled on his clothes, and like his companion, didn't take time for undergarments. He dragged her away from the windows to what appeared to be a small closet. It was the elevator to the panic room. His palm print activated the door and just as it closed behind them, he felt the storm break over the city.
The descent was breathtakingly swift – about a floor a second. Three hundred feet underground, he shouldn't be able to sense the storm, but he could. The lightning was like a second pulse under his skin, maddening him, arousing him. With every heartbeat, he could feel his control slipping away.
Rachel's control, unsurprisingly, was gone and she'd transformed. Green-gold with silver eyes, she stretched her neck and the top of her head banged against the ceiling.
Careful.
I don't like this place. It's too small.
Hughes had to laugh. It was small, if you were Dracon and the size of a jumbo jet. Darling, whatever you do, keep your wings furled. You'll hurt yourself otherwise. A Dracon's skin was covered in armor-like scales, except for the membrane that covered the wings.
You only call me darling when you're annoyed at me. If you're not careful, I'll eat you.
Hughes took a deep breath, stripped, and let the change happen. It felt so damn good. Until he bumped his head on the ceiling.
He could feel Rachel's amusement. Careful, darling.
He laughed. Come here.
She twined her neck through his, he eased a wing over her back and they settled down.
It wouldn't be hard to kill you like this.
Hughes pulled her a little closer, the dew claw on the tip of his wing digging into the sensitive, delicate membrane of hers. You could try…
For the first time since he'd gotten out of prison, Neal didn't want to put on a suit. A suit meant a long sleeved shirt. A suit meant a jacket. A suit meant covering up the quasi-living Dracon on his arm.
He stood before the mirror and was thoroughly enchanted. The little Dracon was rarely still, either flexing its wings or grooming - and Neal wanted to watch when it cleaned its genitals - or chased its tail. When it was still, it was looking up at him wearing a variety of Peter-like expressions.
"You'd better get dressed." Peter was sitting at the dining table, coffee cup in hand. "Elizabeth wants to see us today."
"Hmmm, okay." But Neal made no move to put on any more clothes, opting instead to watch the Dracon on his arm.
"Neal."
He looked up - Peter's tone was stern and a touch annoyed. A tingle started at the base of his spine, something akin to the warning he was accustomed to getting whenever Peter was approaching, but it felt good, like a caress. "What did you just do to me?"
"I didn't do anything." Peter put down his cup. "Come on, get dressed. Elizabeth is waiting. We need to get upstate as soon as possible."
"Is she upset?" Even though Neal liked Peter's clan chief, she terrified him.
"A … little."
Neal swallowed, not wanting to think of the punishments she could mete out. She could eat him if she was really angry.
Reluctantly, Neal abandoned the mirror and looked around. His apartment was an utter mess – books had toppled from the shelves, artwork had fallen from the walls, and almost all of the glassware left out was cracked. Neal suspected that what was in the cupboards was in equally bad shape.
He was afraid to check the wine rack. And the French doors. And the skylights.
And then there were his clothes. The ones he'd worn yesterday were nothing more than rags scattered across the room. The suit jacket had no sleeves or lapel left. His shirt was shredded and Neal wondered if Peter had used his claws on it. The trousers were just as bad – the belt had been ripped away along with the waistband.
He sighed and gathered the remnants of what was once a very fine suit that needed to go to the rag bin. He pulled the cufflinks free from the tattered shirt cuffs and muttered, "Good thing June is away."
"Very true." There was something in Peter's tone – coupled with Elizabeth's demand for a visit – that set Neal's nerves buzzing.
He rubbed the Dracon on his arm – half startled that he felt nothing more than skin.
Peter reissued his command, "Get dressed."
Neal obeyed without question. It was a Saturday and warm enough that he could wear short sleeves, but given that Peter was dressed in a suit and tie, and this was a command performance, Neal figured that sartorial formality was required.
He put on a Baltic blue suit, white shirt, and silver gray tie, and hoped like hell that it would survive the afternoon. As he tied his shoes, he realized something - he wasn't wearing the anklet. Neal smiled.
Then something else, something both inconsequential and highly puzzling, occurred to him.
Peter was dressed in a suit and tie.
Neal had a very distinct sense memory of ripping Peter's shirt last night, after they'd gotten back here and Peter begged him to let him stay. He remembered the feel of Peter's silk tie shredding in his hand.
He went back into the apartment and took a good look at Peter, who was immaculately dressed in a dove-gray suit, white shirt and a red tie. Even though Peter was seated, Neal could tell that the suit was perfectly tailored.
"Nice trick."
"Huh?"
"Where did you get the fresh clothes?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "That's what's bothering you right now?"
"Yeah."
Peter smiled. "You didn't do such a thorough job on my suit as I did on yours. I was able to wear it when I retrieved my car from the hotel parking lot. I had a change of clothes in the trunk."
"Convenient."
"Yeah, nice how everything worked out." Peter stood. "Come on, we've got a long ride ahead of us."
Neal ignored Peter's gesture towards the door and went out to the terrace. The table and chairs were scattered, the fire pit overturned, and Neal could see scoring on the stone railing. His claw marks.
But that wasn't what he was looking for. On the floor, just out of the shadow of one of the merlons, was half of the tracker. The other half was a few feet away. Neal picked them up and showed them to Peter. "How much trouble am I in for this?"
Peter took the two plastic half-circles and pocketed them. It was odd, but Neal wanted to take them back – they were his.
"The tracker's the least of our worries."
"Our?"
"Yeah, Caffrey. Our. And if you don't get your ass out the door, it's only going to get worse."
Despite her splitting headache, Elizabeth had been fielding calls all morning. Hysterical calls from Kin under her protection, Kin whose lives had been turned upside from last night's storm, calls from other clan chiefs and high ranking Draconis, all demanding answers.
She'd hoped that Neal Caffrey's presence would go unnoticed for another few years. It was best if everyone thought that Neal was just a young Dracon who'd become part of another's hoard. Such arrangements weren't unheard of. That was how clan scions were formed – powerful Draconis protecting Kin who needed protecting.
But last night spoiled any chance of Neal keeping a low profile. There wasn't a Dracon east of the Mississippi who didn't sense that something had happened. She was grateful that most Kin didn't know just what did happen, because that would be certain to set off a firestorm. Literally.
The clan chiefs knew a little more and they were demanding answers. About Neal, about Peter, about how she was going to handle this.
She turned off her cell phone and told Yvonne that for the next hour, the only Dracon she wanted to hear from was Peter, and the only message he should be giving was that he and Neal were on their way.
Then the messenger from the High Council came and all bets for a brief respite were off. Nine of the thirteen Council members would be flying in this afternoon, to "address the situation".
Elizabeth's headache grew exponentially. She penned a reply and gave it to the Council's messenger. From the floor-to-ceiling windows in her office, she watched the young Dracon transform and fly off, and summoned her assistant. "Yvonne, get in here, now."
Yvonne looked as frazzled as Elizabeth felt. "More bad news?"
"We're having visitors."
"The Council?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"What do you need me to do?"
"First, get all the children secure. I don't want any of those k'charic menharr - those hoard-thieves – trying to take what is mine. Next, make sure the am'halir is ready." Every clan chief was required to maintain a piece of neutral ground - am'halir - where Council members or other clan chiefs could gather without threatening the host's hoard.
This far away from the soft-skin's cities, the am'halir was big enough to accommodate more than a dozen Draconis in their true form. Most of the time, it was used as a playground by the children. The shallow bowl-shaped valley was perfect for small Draconis just learning to fly.
Yvonne asked, "What about food? Drink?"
Elizabeth sighed. This was a working farm and she was very proud of it. There were a few dozen head of prime grass-fed cattle that were carefully slaughtered and sold to a select group of butchers and restaurants in area. The herds of sheep and alpaca were raised for their wool, and the emus were all prodigious layers. She was not sacrificing a single animal to feed those greedy menharrim.
"Cater it. If anyone wants to eat, they'll do so as soft-skin. This is not a social gathering and I will not permit any hunting on my property. No alcohol, either. At least three of the attending Council members can't be trusted after the first glass."
Yvonne asked, "What else?"
"Take Satchmo and put him with the children. I'll handle the rest."
"Okay." Yvonne whistled and the old dog heaved himself out of his bed, following her out of the office.
Elizabeth paced. She was clan chief for a reason. Not only did she command a great deal of personal power and an extensive hoard, she kept her head in a crisis. But this was a crisis she had never anticipated. Yes, Peter was particularly possessive of Neal, but Neal was hoard and that was to be expected. What she hadn't expected was that Neal would have similar feelings for Peter.
She knew about Kate, of course. Peter had told her about Neal's unfortunate attachment to a suspected ascar'hic, a Kin-hater, and that he expected Neal to break the stricture against looking for the woman. She was the one who had advised Peter to give Neal a chance to see just what Kate Moreau was.
Peter had argued against that course of action, believing it better to keep Neal as far away from the woman as possible. He was Dracon and even if he didn't know that, he'd considered Kate part of his hoard. Any further contact between them would only reinforce that bond.
She'd told Peter that he needed to give Neal something to replace Kate. She just hadn't expected him to give himself.
Her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call – it was from Peter. "Where are you?"
"Just getting onto the Thruway – figured we didn't have the time for the scenic route. If the traffic stays clear, we're about three hours out."
Elizabeth did some calculations. "Floor it, Peter. You and Caffrey need to be here as soon as possible. Put the bubble on if you don't want to deal with the highway patrol."
"Or I might find myself with an escort to your door."
"Do whatever you have to, just get here."
"El, what's going on?"
"The Council's coming."
The silence at the other end of the line spoke volumes.
"You and Caffrey have created a huge problem. For me, for the whole clan."
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not. But we'll deal with it."
"El – "
"Just get here as quickly as you can, Peter. And be prepared." With that, Elizabeth ended the call.
"Prepared for what?"
Peter glanced over at Neal, who was doing his best to shrink into the seat, and sighed. "A whole lot more than what I expected from this visit."
"So this isn't just getting our wrists slapped by Elizabeth, is it? She said something about a council?"
"It seems our little … stunt last night will have even more repercussions than I'd imagined, and it looks like we're going to have to answer for it." Peter hated minimizing what had happened between them – it was too profound – but it was best to keep this conversation light.
"So I guess this pair-bonding thing is more than just the Dracon equivalent of running off to Vegas and getting married without our parents' permission?"
"Apparently." This morning, when Peter received the summons, he understood Elizabeth's annoyance. The news of the Council's involvement; however, was troubling. "I'll be honest; I don't really know what's going on."
"What is this Council?"
"You know that the Draconis are divided into clans. We owe our loyalty to our clan chiefs, who in turn protect us and our personal hoards. In the bad old days, if there was trouble between the clans, we went to war."
"We were taught about the last Dracon War when I was in school. The teacher said it caused the great Lisbon earthquake and wiped a dozen Central American cities off the map."
"The 1755 earthquake? That's a stretch." Peter shook his head. "Anyway – about three hundred years ago, the major clans agreed to form the Council. Although there are many clans, there are only thirteen Council seats. Every fifty years, the seven longest-serving councilors step down and seven new councilors are elected. The Americans, when they set up the Electoral College, patterned it on our Council. Draconis do not vote directly for a councilor, it's the clan chiefs who do – they are supposed to cast their vote based on whom the members of the clan have voted for, but there is no guarantee of that."
"Power corrupts…"
Peter completed the quotation, "And absolute power corrupts absolutely. There certainly have been times where votes have been bought – and sold – but by and large, the scheme works. The Council doesn't get involved in intra-clan matters, though. There's no reason why a pair-bonding between us should be of any interest to them."
Neal reminded him, "This morning, you said everything changes."
"It does – between us. You're much more than hoard now." Unable to stop himself, Peter reached out and took Neal's hand.
"Good, I like that." Neal squeezed his hand. "It always irritated me that I was just another piece of your hoard. Like the Morgan Library or the Woolworth Building."
Peter let out a shout of laughter. "You, Neal Caffrey, were never just another piece of my hoard."
"I was the Crown Jewel?"
Peter gave Neal's hand one more squeeze before letting go. "Stop preening."
They drove in silence, Peter's big BMW eating up the miles.
Then Neal broke the peace. "Is it because I'm not from your clan?"
Peter squeezed the steering wheel so hard that the leather began to crack. He took his foot off the accelerator and steered the car over to the shoulder.
"Peter? Is everything all right?"
He wanted to bang his head against the window. "How did I not see this coming? Of course it's the reason. You're not listed in the Book of Fire; your very existence is an enigma."
"But how would they know?"
Peter stared out of the window, watching the cars and trucks with their soft-skinned, too-fragile cargo speed by. "The storm last night. The lightning. It must have broadcast our mating."
"Seriously? You're telling me that every Dracon in Manhattan knew what we were doing?"
"Not just Manhattan, Neal. Probably the whole East Coast."
Neal let out a stream of invective that would have done a sailor proud.
"This is going to be a big deal, Neal. You're going to be under a lot of scrutiny." And so will I, Elizabeth, Reese, and anyone else who knows about your existence.
"Can they take me away from you?"
"No. If you were just a part of my hoard, maybe - although they'd have to compensate me."
"Oh?" That idea - of course - intrigued Neal. "How much would I be worth?"
Peter decided to play into Neal's vanity, if just because it was the truth. "You can't count that high."
"Really?"
Peter nodded. "But that doesn't matter. We are k'charirhim. That bond is unbreakable. Our absolute laws - the ones that govern hoard and fealty, the ones that have been imprinted on us while we were still in the shell - affirm this. The rite you invoked last night is as old as the first Dracons, as old as time."
"So, you're stuck with me?"
Neal sounded distressed and Peter glanced over at him. "I completed the rite. K'charirm Ne'. K'charic ihm 'Ter. We are partners, Neal."
"Always?" There was so much hope in that single word.
"Forever."
"Good." Neal leaned over and kissed him. "Because I won't allow anyone to take you away from me. Ever. Even if I have to tear the world apart to keep you."
Tags:
- character: elizabeth burke,
- character: neal caffrey,
- character: peter burke,
- genre: alternative universe,
- genre: fantasy,
- genre: slash,
- genre: transformation,
- kink: clothes/clothes porn,
- pairing: peter/neal,
- type: fan fiction,
- wc verse: dragon verse,
- white collar,
- written for: fic-can-ukah,
- year: 2015
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no subject
Date: 2015-12-08 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-08 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-08 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:45 pm (UTC)You know, Dragon'verse is as much YOUR doing as it is
What else is new?
no subject
Date: 2015-12-08 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-08 10:45 pm (UTC)possessive Neal is great.
peter i expect to be possessive. but to have TWO such assertive and intelligent people joined together? oh!
* grabs popcorn* Dis is gonna be good!
no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-08 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-09 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-09 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:48 pm (UTC)Thank you so very much!
no subject
Date: 2015-12-09 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 04:50 pm (UTC)I sometimes get a little confused between individual stories, but not the verses. I think most of them are so different that they'd be hard to confuse.
And now I want to write Dracon'Neal meeting up with Orchestration Peter. Wouldn't that be something?
no subject
Date: 2015-12-10 08:25 pm (UTC)LOL Oh, that'd be great! And why not?? They're your 'Verses -- you can do a crossover within your own worlds! LOL!!
no subject
Date: 2015-12-11 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-12-12 10:32 pm (UTC)MORE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Every word you write in this is drawing me in deeper. Can't wait to read what comes next.
I love how electric Peter and Neal are together here and how naïve Neal is about the consequences of their relationship. Guh!
no subject
Date: 2015-12-15 12:11 am (UTC)I love the passion between these two in this. and I adore seeing reese in a sexual relationship! excellent! and with Rebecca... trouble is brewing. I have no doubt reese can handle it.