InsaneJournal

FIC: Day 1, Act of Union (Luna/??)
Title: Act of Union
Characters/Pairing: Dean, Seamus, Luna/??
Word Count: 1200 (and holy hannah, how did *that* happen?)
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Challenge: May Day, oral sex
Author's Notes: Unbeta'd, so please let me know if you spot things that need to be fixed. Eighth year shenanigans; voyeurism of the teenaged-boy kind; mystical stuff; not-so-loony-Luna. This whole thing is completely outside my normal range. Yay!


"Come on!"

"What the hell are you on about, Finnegan?" Dean was panting, trying to keep up. "This place is still off-limits, you know. We're going to get in a lot of trouble!"

"Oh, sod trouble."

"And besides, we should be studying! We've got--"

Seamus skidded to a stop and hissed, "Shush, now, will you? And try to go quietly from here on." Here was Seamus Finnegan, gone all mysterious! So, full of a pleasant tingle of curiosity that overpowered all common sense, Dean crept along behind, trying to place each foot carefully in the dry leaves and twigs that had fallen during the winter.

Up ahead, he heard a sound, like some kind of exotic bird-call. The Forbidden Forest was full of surprises, most of them damned unpleasant; Merlin only knew what this music meant. Now Finnegan was creeping along, bent over so the new green leaves on the undergrowth screened his presence. Dean could see a gleam of sunlight close ahead, and the music came clearer and clearer. This, whatever it might be, was what he'd been dragged from his studies to see.

With a small gesture, Seamus indicated a spot of ground next to where he knelt on the forest floor. Dean sank down next to him and peered through the bushes. The sight before him took his breath away.

A broad beam of sunlight blossomed into thousands of tiny rainbows; it was caught in the spray of a spring burbling from the side of a stony ridge in the forest floor. The pool filled by the spring was surrounded with foxglove, buttercup and woodsage, like a mirror of the colored lights above; mossy rocks rose on either side to protect it. It was a beautiful spot, but it paled in comparison to the young woman who swayed beside the stream, singing a merry song.

She was slender, but not slight, her arms strong and her belly taut. Her only coverings were the white-blond hair that floated around her body and the many necklaces of white flowers that draped her neck. As she moved to the rhythm of her song, she made criss-crossing dance steps in front of the spring, leaping neatly over the tiny stream that flowed away from its pool.

Seamus cast a quick Silencio. "See what I mean? Is that hot or what? She's crazy as can be, but that's hot."

Dean didn't think that "hot" was really the word he'd use. The scene was too...too high and innocent to be defined merely as sexually exciting. It was that, oh yes; he'd have to be mostly dead not to find that beautiful pale body mesmerizing.

But there was more. The words of the song, when he could understand them, were in praise of the water that sprang from the rock. She named it a well, and lauded it for the life it supported and the magic it sustained. Now and again, at the end of a verse or a chorus, the woman bent to arrange one of her flower chains over the rocks on either side of the spring. It seemed to Dean that when she did that, the water flowed more strongly, streaming out perpendicular to its crack in the mossy wall.

Seamus nudged Dean so hard that Dean nearly lost his balance, craned up on one knee as he was to see what was happening. "D'you see that?" he whispered, but Dean waved him off, and they both kept their eyes on the flowing water and the beauty before it.

She was much nearer the source of the water than she had been when they arrived. She was so close there was almost no room for her to make her tripping dance-steps, so she rocked side to side, feet straddling the pool, as her song became less words and more syllables, less tuneful and more a chant. Her hands, with their pointed pink fingers, reached out to caress the stone face of the font.

The sound of the water changed at her touch. Its merry tinkling slowed to a deep, powerful gurgle that made the hair stand up on the back of Dean's neck. He did not dare take his eyes away, but the way Seamus stiffened next to him, it was sure he'd heard it too. The sun passed behind a cloud, but the glow that surrounded the spring was not diminished; it seemed to emerge from the flowers and the rocks, from the water and the woman who danced there.

There was no distance at all between the dancer and the sacred spring now. She undulated against the wall, her head thrown back, hair flowing like pale water down her back. The limbs of rock that surrounded the pool raised up, two arms clad in green and silver, and wrapped her in an implacable embrace. Fear grabbed Dean by the throat, but he could not move so much as a finger, neither to save the woman nor save himself.

For her part, there was no sign of anything but pleasure. She moaned out her chant as the water flowed down her thighs from the cleft of her mons. The mossy face of the spring nuzzled forward into her, the arms of stone supported her, and she abandoned herself to the ecstasy of the moment, parting her lower lips with her fingers to welcome the water in.

The spring chuckled; it sprayed out more firmly; the stony embrace that held her closed the last of the space between them, until finally she spasmed and cried out, running her hands down the wet stones, stroking the body of her lover.

With a low creak, the arms of the well caught her as she tumbled to the side, eyes closed. As they returned to their commonplace postures around the pool, they eased her to the ground amid the flowers and the soft moss. The water from the spring ran strong for a few moments, washing over her waist and her hips where she lay curled below it; gradually, its cheerful tinkling sound returned, and it resumed its usual course down the side of the rocky wall.

She slept with a smile on her face.

Dean realized that he was exhausted. His legs were cramped from kneeling in the same position for so long, and his mouth was dry as dust. The water of the spring was only a few yards away, but he would not dream of disturbing the slumbering beauty beside it.

Sitting back, he looked over at Seamus. He was pale, almost as pale as the dancer, and there were tears on his cheeks. When he realized Dean was looking at him, he wiped the sleeve of his robe over his face. "Warm right here, innit?" he whispered.

"Yeah." Dean got his feet under him and rose to a crouch. "We better get back."

"Yeah."

They were well out of the Forbidden Forest, almost to the castle door, when next Seamus spoke. "Teach me to skive off studying. Don't know why I went chasing after her. Nothing to see there."

"Nope. Nothing at all," Dean agreed. Nothing they could talk about. Nothing there were even words in Dean to describe.

But he wondered what in Merlin's name he was going to do the next time he saw Luna in the halls.