The Chapterhouse: Part One

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THE CHAPTERHOUSE



He'd heard tales of the Knights, as news came from the survivors of other planets in the system. They told stories of their rescue after their homes were burned, their livelihoods lost, their world destroyed, but he thought they were fairytales. Where were the Knights? Why had they not come when the call from their world had been sent? They had been steadfast in their devotion to Helios; they had never wavered in their faith. And yet the Hordes had come.

The malevolence of the enemy was doubly loathsome as they scoffed at any God but their own; they were bold in their ridicule, they tortured, pillaged, killed and desecrated everything in their path in the name of their God. The Horde was determined that their God would prevail, and for a while it did.

Hope had been all but lost in their world but, they would not bow to the Horde's God; they would not forsake Helios. They would give their lives for their God as scores and hundreds and thousands had before them. Jared’s mother was prepared to follow in the steps of other true and faithful souls when they heard the hum of the enormous battle cruiser and saw its bulk fill the sky. The landscape fell into shadow as it hovered and the Horde stopped their advance. Choking sobs of relief escaped his mother as she fell to her knees and embraced him.

"Helios has heard our prayers, Jared. All will be well." Together, he and his mother watched the Bevians deploy their forces. Pair by pair they marched down the great gangway and spread across the landscape. They were a glittering mass of gold heraldry and their forms seemed to shimmer, even in the shadows cast by the battle cruiser. It was at that moment he knew what his future would be. What it must be. Helios was God and worthy of devotion. He would serve, and one day he would be a knight so as to protect others.

Overcome by memories, his heart started to thrum in his ears and it took all of his willpower not to turn and run from the hall, overcome by the sheer force of the emotion coursing through him, when an all too familiar voice intruded on his panic.

"Padalecki!"

Jared turned and searched the slowly assembling crowd for the voice's owner...there. Just behind a willowy redhead was Chad. Chad Murray. Jared couldn't believe it. He'd heard rumors that Chad had pledged Bevian, but he never put much stock in them; Chad had never taken their playing at knights as seriously as Jared, and he seemed to lose interest once they went to Parochial, focusing instead on waterball and when the hormones began, girls. Jared, however, had never deviated from his interest; the knighthood had always held his full attention.

With a face-splitting smile, Chad quickly crossed the hall to grasp Jared's forearm in their world’s traditional greeting, then swooped in to place a solid kiss on Jared's mouth. Jared pulled back sharply, blinking at his childhood friend in bewilderment. Chad hadn't loosened his grip on Jared and ended up fighting for balance with Jared's sudden movement.

"Woah!" Chad looked up at Jared once he'd regained his posture and dropped Jared's arm. "What the hell, Jared?"

Jared was still blinking rapidly in confusion when Chad snickered and said, "Oh yeah. I forgot. You newbies aren't used to that yet." Then he waggled his eyebrows at Jared, and said, "Well, you'll have lots of opportunity to get accustomed to it," and broke out in a broad grin again.

Furrowing his brow, Jared looked at Chad quizzically, "What do you mean?"

Chad ignored his question and swept his arms wide, "Welcome to the Bevian Chapterhouse! Where the best of the best come to commit to their god!" The grandiose nature of his statement was edged out by the sardonic chuckling that Jared knew so well.

"How long have you been here, Chad?"

"Come on, I'll walk you to the briefing chamber—it’s where you’re all going to end up anyway.” He made a vague motion towards the rest of the young men arriving in the hall, “I’ll tell you on the way." Chad clapped a hand on Jared's shoulder and pressed him forward, steering him to a side arch that led down a long corridor.

"I've been here two years now. I've been a Posey longer any trainee here, and Preceptor Morgan said that if I wasn't so damn talented, he'd have thrown me out on my sorry backside a year ago and had done with me--and that's a direct quote." Chad seemed inordinately proud of something Jared sensed any other person in their right mind would have been ashamed of. But then, that was always the way with Chad. Jared swore Chad saw the world differently than any person who had ever inhabited it or ever would.

"What's a Posey?"

"You'll see when you get your Pedagogue. The 'Gogs love to fill you in on all that," Chad shrugged, "'sides, it's their job." Chad came to a halt at the end of the hall in front of a massive wooden door.

"Here's where we part ways. I'll see you later today at Sext, and again at Vespers. Maybe in between, who knows?" Chad gave Jared one more squeeze on the shoulder and rose on his toes to swipe a quick kiss onto Jared's cheek, shocking Jared once again.

Rather than looking ashamed or uncomfortable, Chad laughed and said, "Oh boy, is this going to be fun! You're gonna be in for a huge surprise, Jare." Spreading his hands apart to emphasize the point, he repeated, "HUGE." And he turned and made his way back down the hall, still laughing to himself.


********************

Brother Jensen studied the tall man the Preceptor had brought to his cell and introduced as Brother Jared. When Preceptor Morgan had raised the idea of Jensen taking on a postulant, he'd thought the Preceptor had meant a few months or possibly a year down the road, not two days later.

Jensen was aware he'd been given a longer than usual span of time between postulants. While two years was not an uncommon duration between one novice and the next, five certainly was. He'd started to become accustomed to the possibility of not training up another Brother in the fold, and had even made his peace with the thought the Archbishop might taken his name off of the Pedagogy rolls permanently.

Jensen arched his brow as he surveyed the man before him: younger than Jensen by only a few years--that was surprising, usually postulants were in their late teens, at most early 20's--taller than himself by a few inches, lanky frame that hinted at the possibility of sturdy muscling with some work--perhaps an Arm?--aristocratic nose, longish shaggy brown hair that framed wide sparkling hazel eyes and a disarming grin. The grin came as he reached out to clasp Jensen's forearm in his hand, an archaic greeting that said much about his upbringing and life before the Chapterhouse--a life Jensen was all too familiar with, as he possessed that same background himself. His grip was firm and nearly encompassed Jensen’s arm, so wide were his hands.

"Pleasure, Brother Jensen. I'm honored to be placed in your service."

Jensen's other brow raised specutively as the man's modulated tone rumbled through his chest--maybe he was a Voice?--and hinted at a slight lazy drawl, which probably got more pronounced when he was drunk or tired, much like Jensen's own did. Jensen deepened the postulant's initial greeting by placing his other hand behind his elbow and pulling him in for the Chapter’s customary greeting of a kiss on the mouth. From Jared's reflexive pull back at Jensen's approach into his own physical space, it was clear he was not used to the intimacy of the order's customary greeting. Jensen was prepared for this and kept Jared's arm firmly in his palm. It was something like deja-vu only with his role being played by Jared even as he now played his old pedagogue's role from so many years ago. Jensen wondered if it would take Jared as long as it had taken him to come to terms with...

Clove, coffee, a slight undertone of bacon--the last faint scent revealing that the postulant was not without means--filled Jensen’s nose as he pressed his lips Jared's warm, dry lips. "We'll see if it's still a 'pleasure' at the end of the week, Brother Jared," Jensen murmured before releasing him and stepping away.

"I trust this is satisfactory then, Brothers?"

The Preceptor's voice cut through Jensen's ruminating and he replied with a swift nod, eyes never leaving his postulant's now puzzled face, "Yes, Preceptor."

Jared took a second longer, "Yes, Preceptor."

Preceptor Morgan smiled, clasped them both on the shoulder and said, "Excellent. I shall see you at Vespers," before he turned and left the cell to its two occupants.

"Your robes and other personal effects can be stored in the cupboard over there, " Jensen pointed to a long opaque panel on the east side of the room next to the cleansing unit. There was a duplicate next to it which held Jensen's own meager belongings. "As you can see, we aren't equipped with much here, just the rudimentary basics: storage, communication and knowledge cube, cleaning unit and sleeping unit. Very little of our time will be spent here, Posey. The majority of it will be spent out in the field, in chapel, in our House assignments or in the training rooms."

Jared moved to open his micropac, withdrawing a training suit, celebration robes and undergarments that he folded over the bars inside the cupboard. A pair of sabatons and a pair of tabi for chapel were placed on the floor of the cupboard. A small leather case was placed next to them, piquing Jensen's curiosity about what was inside. The Chapterhouse supplied everything a monastic knight would need once they entered into postulancy and later made their vows, but the House’s version of "everything" was much more meager than what most of the populace considered necessary.

Jensen sat on the low chest which held his gear. His and Jared's now he supposed. At least until the Posey got his own—one of the few things he’d ever have of his own from here on out, anyway.

As Jared finished and closed the door to his storage space, he asked, "So what's your gift, Brother Jensen?"

Jensen clenched his jaw at the familiarity, but held back in correcting his postulant saying tersely, "Voice. And you, Posey?"

"Arm." Jared moved to the comm cube and was turning it restlessly in his hands. He looked up at Jensen as if something had just registered, "Posey?"

"Short for postulant. Takes less time and keeps you newbies in your place--down with the terrestrials and their flowers." Jensen flashed him a cheeky grin and waited for him to take the bait; Jared didn't disappoint.

“So you’re all right with being known as the ‘Gogs in return then?"

Jensen was up and in Jared's face before he could blink. In a low, menacing tone, he said, "No, what you call every other Brother in this House is Sir. But you will call me Master." Jensen stifled the smirk that bubbled just under the surface as his Posey sucked in a surprised breath and tried to step backward, succeeding only in plastering his lean frame to the cold wall behind him. Jensen moved in closer pressing his own solid frame to his postulant's and let his voice rumble into Jared's ear, "And someday, if you're good, and you make all your rankings, you can call me Sir. After that? We'll see." He felt Jared's heartbeat speed up and heard his breath quicken. Good.

Stepping back sharply, he said, "Let's go get started, Posey," and turned and left the cell, trusting his bewildered postulant to follow.

********************

Jensen led Jared through the Chapterhouse with a single minded purpose that Jared was blind to. He kept pace easily with his...Master...but wished that he would slow so Jared could study his surroundings.

His "Master." That was going to be difficult to adapt to; the formalities and customs were so different from those of his home world where even the Terrestrial Minister was essentially treated with the same deference and respect as a farm hand. Though he knew the Celestials had advanced technology, they seemed ancient and exotic in their interpersonal interactions. He was prepared to leave behind his terrestial life and toss away the vestiges of his previous existence in order to faithfully serve; however, he was not prepared for the reality he had walked into. The application process had been long and arduous; he was tested both physically and mentally. Not all were blessed with the gifts and Jared had feared in the darkest corner of his soul that he would not measure up. That the years of physical training would have been for nothing. That the truth would reveal that he did not possess the gifts required to fully serve in the Knighthood. When he had been accepted as a postulate it had not only been one of the most joyous days of his life, but one of immense relief as well.

The mysteries of knighthood had long intrigued him. He had imagined the world of the Orders as one of solemn contemplation and punishing battle training. These men were the fiercest of warriors, their strength coming not only from their muscles, but their souls and minds as well. The reality of the Chapterhouse was not far from his imaginings. As they neared the holofield where mock battles were pitched, he could hear the sounds of fighting and the grunting and groaning of the sparring postulants. Jensen led him through a tall arch-way, stopping to touch the prayer scroll on the door frame in reverence and thanks for the protection it symbolized. Jared copied his motions, lowered his head in a short prayer of thanks and stepped onto the holofield.

Jensen slowed his pace as he started to circumnavigate the edge of the field. He nodded to each Pedagogue and Postulant pair as he passed by the sparring quads. They walked slowly, the entire regiment in view as Jensen pulled Jared close to his side and started pointing to pairs and quartets, giving names and explaining their gifts.

"That's Mike Rosenbaum and his Postulant Tom Welling. Welling's an Arm and Rosenbaum's a Voice." A tall brunet with broad shoulders had a bald man's arms wrapped around his waist. Jared wasn't sure what the purpose of this particular stance was and was just about to ask when Jensen shifted and pointed out another couple.

"Like us," Jared commented.

Jensen corrected him swiftly with a tone that brooked no argument, "No. Not like us. No two pairs are alike, even when it appears so."

Jared was shocked to see the women knights. He’d heard tell of female knights, but he’d assumed it to be idle talk among drunken sky sailors and hopeful adolescents.

“We’ve got to fight next to them on the battlefield, so we train with them. Those two there," he pointed first to the woman with raven hair and then the one with shining blonde, "Genevieve and Katie, are Boons; you won’t really see them except on tournament days.” Jensen shrugged casually, obviously noting Jared’s expression—and his failure to continue with forward movement. “They live in the Abbey across the arch. Precept Ferris joins with Preceptor Morgan occasionally.”

Jared was suddenly distracted by a pair that Jensen hadn't gotten to yet. Two other women, a red-head and a brunette, had just completed a particularly complex sequence when the red-head spun the brunette girl towards her and began to kiss her passionately. Jensen continued to point and rattle off names and gifts, but Jared had completely stopped listening as he watched the two women in front of them deepen the kiss, hands beginning to roam over one another's bodies with wanton abandon, seemingly unaware of the presence of anyone else, let alone the combat raging around them. When they broke apart, the red-head gave her partner a brilliant grin before they turned in unison and began another intricate pattern of movements.

"That's Danneel and Sophia. They're both Arms. Exceedingly good ones at that." Jensen's voice held not judgment, but admiration.

Jared turned to him in astonishment. "But they're...they just…they kissed!"

Bemusement crossed Jensen's face and he raised a single eyebrow as he said, "Welcome to the Knighthood, Posey."

Stunned and nervous now, Jared asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means you have a lot to learn. And there's no time like the present." Jensen placed a hand on the small of his back and pressed Jared forward.

The view changed the moment Jared's feet passed from the white marble walkway that encompassed the whole of the holofield and onto what had seemed to an expanse of brushed metal. They were in a forest, very similar to the one that Jared and Chad used to play in as children, and where Jared later created challenges of endurance and physical strength for himself. The difference was, this forest had what looked to be very real Hordes scattered amongst the trees and bushes, and there were various flashes of elemental weaponry combating one another.

Over the years, Jared had become more and more adept at his gift of Arm. It allowed him to control and manipulate nature and the elements with his bodily energy. The Adamen provided various movements and stances that allowed him to channel that energy and expend it to the benefit of his allies or to the detriment of his enemies. Jensen was a Voice--it was difficult to imagine him being anything else with the lilting baritone that rolled out of him when he spoke--and depending upon the register, intonation and breath control he used he could protect himself and others, or inflict damage and pain upon an enemy. Together, they'd be a genuine compliment to one another's abilities. That was the amazing thing about the gift. Although it manifested differently from individual to individual, the Adamen allowed for the focusing and use of the gift. It was also going to be one of the main challenges, learning how to perform the moves of Adamen in a partnership with another person, rather than as an individual.

Jared watched as Jensen centered himself and planted his feet slightly apart then motioned for Jared to join him. Around them the intensity of the battle seemed to fade slightly as Jared moved his body into place next to Jensen, feet shoulder-width apart, arms rising above their heads until they gripped one another and tilted slightly inward. Jensen squeezed Jared's hands lightly indicating he was ready. Closing his eyes, Jared gathered the energy within his core and formed it into the one word Jensen was chanting over and over: fire.

From their stretched figures emanated a large ball of flame that blew through the forest, seeking enemies to burn, but losing form and shape along the way, until after hitting several unintended targets, it extinguished completely.

Jared felt his hands enclosed tightly within another's grip and began to tug in bewilderment and alarm. What was going on? He scanned his surroundings and began to panic as he didn't recognize where he was or what was going on. How did he get to be in a forest? Who were all these people? He struggled to free his hands from the foreign grip when suddenly they were no longer restraining him, but were now on either side of his face. Then his vision was filled by an unfamiliar man with glittering green eyes, and a face dusted with delicate freckles suddenly pressed full, parted lips against his own. Jared was too stunned to move, never in his life had he...slowly, ever so slowly awareness of his present situation began to creep in. The deeper the man kissed him, the more Jared let him in, the more he remembered. Somehow, he knew he needed to stop resisting and let himself go. Raising his arms, he wrapped one arm around the green-eyed man's waist and let the other wander the expanse of his back while he pressed back into the kiss, opening his mouth wider and tentatively touching his tongue to the other man's. It felt...right. Like when he was greeted at the door by his Mama, wiping her hands on her apron, asking him about his day at school. Like when his father ruffled his hair and called him his little "knight," like when Sandy put her soft hand in his for the first time and looked at him with her big brown eyes. It was comfortable and familiar and safe and...suddenly Jared remembered who and where and what exactly was going on and he moved his arms between himself and his companion and pushed.

"Hey, there. Calm down now." Jensen was clearly expecting this reaction from Jared, and he kept his voice even and low.

Jared's heart was like a caged hummingbird, desperately flinging itself against the bars of his ribs looking for a way out. He was a bit lightheaded, but more than anything he was angry.

"What in the name of Helios was that?" He half-yelled, not wanting to draw any additional attention from anyone who may have witnessed their embarrassing display.

In the same low, calm tone Jensen said, "It's called somna. You saw Danneel and Sophia earlier. It's an after-effect of using our gifts in battle. Once you release your power in a battle move, you temporarily lose your memory." Jensen shrugged, "The gift is a double-edged sword. The only way to regain equilibrium is to be touched by a companion; specifically someone you feel very close to and trust. The stronger your bond, the faster the connection to reality, and the less prone you are to being overtaken. It's why we live in pairs." He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was as simple as breathing.

Jared was torn between an overwhelming need to run and an equally strong desire to destroy something. It just didn't make any sense. No one had ever said anything to him about somna, this "double-edge" of having a gift. Granted, he hadn't ever used his Arm outside of personal training for anything other than to help around the farm, or to amuse his little sister, but this couldn't be right, could it?

He'd trained for years in the Positions of the Arm, hoping someday he'd be accepted to postulancy and use his gift to aid the Knighthood, but he'd never actively wielded his gift with another person until today. He hadn't been prepared in any way for any of the things he was being exposed to and presented with. He felt betrayed. He'd always placed his trust and faith in Helios, knowing that there had to be a path, a purpose to everything that was occurring in his life, in his world, in the universe. But this, these secrets, these unfamiliar ways and unexpected practices were throwing him off-kilter, unbalancing his certainty in his role in Helios' great plan.

"Focus, Posey." His Master's voice was not unkind, yet it was clearly commanding. "We will start with the basics. Your physical training and training in the Arm have granted you admission to the Academy, but there is no certainty that you will remain in the Academy. Forget what you have learned and follow my lead."

Jared's heart sank, he was humiliated. He knew that he was new to this, but he had always been told--assured--by his parents, his Cathar, and his friends that he was special, unique, gifted. Even so, he was accustomed to being treated with respect, just like any other being, not like some servo. He threw back his shoulders and met Jensen's eyes with a sharp glare. "Yes, Master."

"Not good enough, Posey." He raised his voice and grabbed Jared's biceps in a strong grip. "Say it like you mean it."

Jared bit his tongue and tried to choke back the sarcasm and resentment that was roiling in his gut. "My apologies, Master," he found the words like ash on his tongue, "Yes, Master, I am ready to train."

"The fundamental concept that you must always keep in your mind is that there is no you, there is no me. There is only us when we are on the battlefield. You knew knights fought in pairs, you have seen them here in training, and from what I understand, you've seen it first-hand as well."

Jared was stunned at this off-hand mention of his personal history in the midst of his reprimand.

"And you failed when you attempted to pair with me because you were thinking of yourself, your moves, your battle plan." Jensen stepped closer, close enough for Jared to feel his Pedagogue's warm breath on his face, and see each long, curving eyelash that framed narrowed green eyes. "In order for us to bond as companion warriors we must each learn to trust the other, to know the other, to feel the other." As he was speaking he moved behind Jared and wrapped his arms around Jared's torso. Jared could feel the length of his body align with the contours of Jensen's body, he immediately stiffened his posture.

"Wrong, Posey. Wrong." Jensen's voice was soft. "Lean into me, relax, trust me. I will not let you fall."

It went against his every instinct. This was not what he had signed up for, was it? Cautiously, he leaned back into the embrace and allowed his pedagogue to support his weight.

"Better. Now move with me, feel me as I move behind you and match my moves."

Jared couldn’t concentrate. Jensen's solid frame pressed into his back sending his nerves skittering for cover. Even his muscle memory failed him as his brain attempted to reconcile the reaction of his own body to the encompassing warmth of Jensen. He stumbled and completely missed his cue.

"Again. Concentrate."

Jared shook his head to clear it and stood perfectly still. His shoulders arched as he felt Jensen's arms once more wrap around him.

"Lean back, sense my movements. Close your eyes and focus." Jensen's voice was still soft, but Jared could hear a hint of annoyance beneath the smooth tone. Why couldn't he do this? Jared leaned back again, but it was all wrong. He was aware of every inch of his skin and how it tingled beneath Jensen's touch.

Relax, feel his movements, move with him. This is easy, this is elemental, just move, Jared thought. He let his head drop back and tried to feel something other than Jensen's presence, but all he could feel was this unfamiliar man holding him in a way that he had not been held before, causing his body to react in ways that he was not accustomed to feeling in the presence of another man. He lost his composure again and broke the hold.

"Helios! I can't." Jared was growing increasingly frustrated with both Jensen and himself.

"You can. You must. You would not be here if you couldn't." Jensen walked around Jared to face him. "Let's try this face to face."

Jared could not look at him, he felt defeated. "Follow me, Posey."

Jared felt like a fool, but he followed Jensen's moves as closely as he could. Jensen then drew closer and wrapped Jared in an embrace. "Better, Posey. But we still have work to do."

Again, Jared reflexively stiffened and lost his balance.

Jensen pulled Jared's head down, and warned him "Remember, that when we go into battle this will be real. The enemy will be throwing everything they can muster at us and our defenses. Our bond will be the only thing standing between us and the hereafter. Get your head together."

Thankfully, the tension Jared was suffused with was broken by the sound of chimes, and the pairs of Postulants and Pedagogues started to leave the holo-field. Jared had never been so thankful to hear a bell in his entire life.

Jared relaxed slightly and started to pull away from the radiating heat of Jensen's body until Jensen wrapped his arms around his torso and pulled him back against his chest once again.

"Where do you think you're going, Posey?" Jensen's voice rumbled in his ear.

"I thought...isn't training over?" He lifted a hand to gesture vaguely in the direction of the people departing the field.

"Training's not over until I say it is. The chimes mean nothing to you. I'm the one who matters here." Jensen's voice was stern and his breath was hot against Jared's neck and Jared felt a flutter of something unfamiliar in the pit of his stomach.

Somehow managing to keep Jared pinned against him with his upper arms, Jensen's hands began to roam over his postulant's chest and stomach, large circles that soothed and yet seemed to burn through Jared at the same time.

"You've got to learn to trust me Jared. You've got to learn to let go. Come on. Let your head fall back against my shoulder.”

The command was given in a soft, coaxing tone but Jared’s muscles felt like iron beneath his jumpsuit uniform. Suddenly he wondered if anyone else was watching this horribly embarrassing display. He whipped his head to the left but there were no other knights or postulants to be seen. He and Jensen were alone in the target range.

“Come on, Jared.” There was more steel in Jensen’s tone now but he was still asking more than telling.

“I don’t…I can’t…” Jared felt as if he were going to explode from the fierce tensions building inside him. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to be held by another man—and never anyone outside his family. Comfort and security was what family was for—not virtual strangers, grown men that he had just met. Every instinct he had was screaming at him that this was wrong—that he had to get away from the strong arms around him and the deep voice in his ear. But somehow he managed to stay still.

“You can,” Jensen murmured. “And you will. And when you do, I’ll let you go. I promise. And one thing you should know about me is I don’t break promises. Ever.”

“All-all right.” With a superhuman effort of will, Jared forced his muscles to lose some of their tension and allowed his head to fall back against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Good. That’s good,” Jensen murmured. He leaned forward and pressed his face to the side of Jared’s cheek. “Boundaries,” he breathed in Jared’s ear. “You’re going to lose them all, Posey.” There was a soft brush of lips against Jared’s cheek and suddenly Jensen released him and he was standing on his own.

“Gods!” he breathed, not sure if he should laugh or cry, or nail his Pedagogue in the face. He turned to face Jensen, who was standing with his hands loose at his side, obviously ready if Jared decided to go for him.

“No, it’s just me.” Jensen smirked. “Are you ready to go?”

“Where are we going now?” Jared demanded, thinking that it had better not be someplace else where he would be subjected to manhandling.

“To Sext,” Jensen said mildly. “Aren’t you hungry?”


********************



Part 2