Taboo: Chapter 2: Stubborn Rebellion (Part 2)
Title: Taboo
Author: Winged Dreamer
Rating: PG-13 for now, probably R later for sexual content and possible violence
Word Count: 2,090 for this part, 6,167 so far - word count for entire chapter still undetermined
Warnings/Spoilers: Slash, fem-slash, mentions of sex, possibly mentions of violence, pesky gods who like to stick their noses where they don't belong
Story Summary: In a world where status is determined by breed, two young men - one low born, one high - work together to tear down the walls placed between them by society. Asher masquerades as a brothel slave to gather information for an upcoming rebellion against the suffocating oppression of his class, desperate to create a world where his siblings can live without fear. Jornen is a Noble about to come into his majority, and the last thing he wants is the fate his father has planned for him. Only together can they shake things up - hopefully for the better - and only together will they find out that love truly is blind.
Chapter Summary: All Jornen wants is one night of true freedom - but he has to escape his parents' New Year's Eve party first.
Chapter 1: Rite of Passage
Chapter 2: Part 1
No one challenged them when they emerged from a side street onto the main avenue, nor did anyone question them as they strode with purpose towards the low stone wall separating the Noble's District from the Mage's District. The solitary token guard at the Second Wall barely cast them a glance as they walked through the gateless arch, a suspicious bottle hiding in the darkness by his feet. Without prompting, Saul tossed a silver coin to the guard, who tucked it away with a speed that almost suggested magic and casually turned away as if they were merely the breeze passing by. Their journey through the Mage's District was equally uneventful; most were inside celebrating the Spring Equinox with elaborate parties. Those who were out on the streets were traveling to a new gathering, set on their new destination without a care for this odd Noble traveling through their territory, on his way to his own party.
The Third Wall soon loomed above them, a tall, foreboding stone barrier between the world of the Aristocrats and the Commoners. A heavy wrought iron gate barred their way, only a carriage-sized door beside the guardhouse built into the wall open to provide passage. The sound of their approaching footsteps drew a young guard out of the guardhouse, this one sober and alert. One hand rested with confidence on the worn, leather-wrapped hilt of the sword on his hip, the other raised in warning. Peeking out from underneath his helmet were the soft yellow ears and dark, dark hair of Leonus, Lion god of justice.
"Halt! State your names and business," the guard firmly ordered, his long tufted tail swinging in warning.
Jornen glanced briefly to Saul with a smirk, then slowly raised his hands to waist level, though his confident steps never faltered. He stopped only when he was an arm's length from the guard, Saul a step behind him on his right. Beneath the badge displaying the young male's position in the City Guard was the crest of his family - a low-ranking one. As Jornen took note of the guard's family, he felt the Lion-Noble's eyes take in the crest on his golden vest. Surprise filled the guard's face, and he opened his mouth to exclaim an apology. A gold coin pressed into his hand, accompanied by a bright smile from Jornen, cut him off. Wide yellow eyes met heated blue.
"What is your name, soldier?" Jornen purred softly.
It took a couple swallows before the Lion-Noble, just a few years older than Jornen, could answer with a shaky purr of his own. "Merket, milord."
"Merket," Jornen repeated, rolling the name on his tongue as if it were a sweet. "I would ask a favor of you. My family believes me to be ill when in fact I am on my way to meet with my lover. It would not bode well for my honored parents to discover this meeting. I trust you will help keep my secret?" His eyes never leaving Merket's, Jornen curled the guard's fingers around the coin in his palm and gently stroked the rough hand.
"I-I will. I won't tell a soul."
Jornen smiled slowly, heatedly. It was so very easy to play this game; his father had taught him well indeed. "Thank you. I have one more small favor to ask of you, Merket, if you would be kind enough to indulge me."
The Lion-Noble nodded once, shock having given way to something akin to camaraderie. This was not the first time Jornen had had this effect on someone. During private moments, Saul often pointed out that if presented with the opportunity, Jornen could seduce a hardened, elusive Desert Maiden. Jornen highly doubted that his hard-won skills of persuasion were honed enough to ensnare the heart of a queen bound to the Woestijn Sand Cat, however he would readily admit that he'd had more than enough practice in wooing his way into places where rank meant nothing. Yet here, with Merket, Jornen's rank helped rather than hindered.
Purring in pleasure at Merket's ready acceptance, Jornen released the guard's hand to slowly remove his gold-laced vest, nodding for Saul to do the same with his vest of coarse wool. Both garments were soon folded and set into Merket's waiting hands. "Guard these for me until I return," Jornen requested.
"I… My shift ends at second hour," Merket warned nervously.
Second hour… halfway between midnight and dawn. Plenty of time to enjoy a rare night of true freedom in the Commoner's District. Jornen nodded solemnly in understanding. "I will return by second hour," he promised, and Merket visibly relaxed. Smiling softly, Jornen gently drew the tips of his claws over the Lion-Noble's cheek, earning a shudder. "Thank you, Merket. Pardis bless." He let his gaze linger on the other male's eyes for a moment before confidently striding through the gate, Saul a step behind him.
Not even a block into the Commoner's District, the guard was already a distant memory, to be recalled only when it was time to head home. This close to the Third Wall, the wood and stone buildings towering over Jornen and Saul were dark and empty, devoid of their regular occupants - freshly trained slaves waiting to be sold at market. Tonight they were reliving their recently lost freedom while their captors and trainers celebrated the year gone by inside the wall. Knowing full well that Saul was uncomfortable here, Jornen hurried them through until they could begin to see the light from thousands of lanterns. Only then did he slow, and when he began to see people milling around, he pulled Saul into the shadow of an alley mouth. It was a risky move - there were many potential dangers creeping in the darkness - but to do what he was about to in the light would be an even greater risk.
The Havana Brown knew his master well, and he could see the discomfort on the younger male's face. "Milord?" he quietly questioned when Jornen did not immediately speak up.
Sighing, Jornen ran his hands over his ears, tugging on them a little bit in a rare honest show of nerves. He had been planning this moment for weeks now, agonized over it in the quiet hours before sleep came… and now was the moment of truth. "I'm not your master tonight, Saul. Not anymore," he carefully began. "These nineteen years, you have been a friend and a mentor to me, and a better uncle than those related to me by blood. In four months time it will be my Choosing, and the gods will at last free me from the hold of my parents… and I want to share that freedom with you." Before he could change his mind or Saul could protest, Jornen bit down on the pad of his forefinger with a sharp canine. A single drop of blood welled out, and the Noble pressed it to the Commoner's slave collar. The stamped leather gave a small shudder as Tieranth blood released the spell holding it to Saul's skin, and it slid down Saul's front into his waiting hand.
Surprised green eyes gazed at Jornen. All his life, Saul had been a slave in the Tieranth household, and while he was well used to Jornen's unusual kindness and compassion, he had never considered the idea that his master would be willing to give him the one thing he had never known yet always desired - his freedom. For a few seconds, Saul felt the intense urge to drop the collar and run before the young Noble could change his mind. But as quickly as it had come, the urge passed and reason took over. Smiling gently, Saul shook his head. "No. Milord, I -"
"Jornen," the younger tom stubbornly interrupted, his chin high in a show of almost bratty determination to have his way.
Saul bit back a fond chuckle and nodded. "Jornen," he allowed. "I was not exaggerating when I said that you are the only master worth anything in your household. If I left you now just as you are about to enter your majority, I know I would regret it." He held up a hand, cutting off Jornen's next protest. "I know how difficult this is for you, and I am more grateful than you could ever know, and if you were any other master I would take your gift and run… but just as you care enough for me to let me go, I care for you too much to leave." Saul held out the collar in a silent request for Jornen to put it back around his neck.
Confused blue eyes stared at the collar for a long moment before Jornen shook his head. "Put it in your pocket, Saul. If you still want to return with me in the morning, I will put it back, but until then you are a free tom to do as you please."
"Very well." The Havana Brown tucked the stamped leather into his trouser pocket, then asked the question he knew Jornen wanted him to ask. "If you do not mind, I would still like to accompany you tonight. I am unaccustomed with Equinox celebrations on this side of the walls, and I would feel out of place if I were to enter a party alone."
A spark of relief flashed through Jornen's gaze, gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Of course. But you are to address me by my given name the whole time. I am not your master tonight, but your companion."
"Agreed."
Satisfied that Saul would feel comfortable tonight to act like the friend he truly was, Jornen carefully removed a tiny cloth bag from his pocket. It glowed faintly in the dark alley from the spells woven into its fibers to shield its very illegal contents from prying magical eyes. Motioning for Saul to stand guard, the young Noble extracted a simple gold band from the little pouch of raw cotton. In the light, the ring would have looked like any other unextraordinary piece of shaped metal, but here in the shadows the gold glowed with a soft internal light, and if Jornen concentrated, he could almost see the miniscule words and shapes forming the spells forged into the gold. Taking a deep breath, he slipped the ring onto the third finger of his left hand.
The pain was instant. Jornen hissed as little sparks of heat danced over his eyes and as his ears burned. Every inch of his skin tingled as if he had touched lightning. Then, just when Jornen was beginning to think this was a bad idea, the pain stopped, leaving him to shake and blink tears from his eyes. Tentative fingers reached up to feel his tender ears, to check and make sure the spell had worked. What he found made Jornen grin in pleasure, and he stepped closer to the light. "Well?" he asked Saul. "What do you think? Convincing?"
Saul turned towards his master and did a double-take. Jornen's blue eyes were now a light green, and his round Noble pupils now the slits of a Commoner. His round ears were now pointed, and his auburn hair had taken on the reddish tint so often associated with Havana Browns. Even his naturally tanned skin had taken on a subtle red hue. The young Noble had transformed completely into a Havana Brown Commoner, and now would draw attention only as a purebred tom of a rare breed rather than as an Aristocrat mingling with those far beneath him. Without the cocky grin and the familiar casual confidence in Jornen's stance, Saul almost would not have recognized him. Brows raised in approval, the older tom applauded briefly. "And just how much did this questionable and highly illegal spell cost, might I ask?"
"Far more than you truly want to know," Jornen readily admitted, giving in to the urge to play with his new ears. "Subtle and simple shapeshifting spells are apparently the hardest, at least for the spellcaster, and especially when impregnated into something that can be worn multiple times. But I wanted a shapeshifting spell rather than an illusion since illusions are so easy to spot."
"Especially if, say, some lovely queen decided to fondle your ears," Saul teased, smirking when Jornen dropped his hands and wrinkled his nose in a show of affectionate brattiness.
With a bright excited grin, Jornen draped an arm over Saul's shoulders. "Come on, you old crone. Let's go find us a party!"
----------
All worldbuilding info for Taboo can be found here.
Next week: Jornen finds the party he was looking for... with interesting results.
Author: Winged Dreamer
Rating: PG-13 for now, probably R later for sexual content and possible violence
Word Count: 2,090 for this part, 6,167 so far - word count for entire chapter still undetermined
Warnings/Spoilers: Slash, fem-slash, mentions of sex, possibly mentions of violence, pesky gods who like to stick their noses where they don't belong
Story Summary: In a world where status is determined by breed, two young men - one low born, one high - work together to tear down the walls placed between them by society. Asher masquerades as a brothel slave to gather information for an upcoming rebellion against the suffocating oppression of his class, desperate to create a world where his siblings can live without fear. Jornen is a Noble about to come into his majority, and the last thing he wants is the fate his father has planned for him. Only together can they shake things up - hopefully for the better - and only together will they find out that love truly is blind.
Chapter Summary: All Jornen wants is one night of true freedom - but he has to escape his parents' New Year's Eve party first.
Chapter 1: Rite of Passage
Chapter 2: Part 1
No one challenged them when they emerged from a side street onto the main avenue, nor did anyone question them as they strode with purpose towards the low stone wall separating the Noble's District from the Mage's District. The solitary token guard at the Second Wall barely cast them a glance as they walked through the gateless arch, a suspicious bottle hiding in the darkness by his feet. Without prompting, Saul tossed a silver coin to the guard, who tucked it away with a speed that almost suggested magic and casually turned away as if they were merely the breeze passing by. Their journey through the Mage's District was equally uneventful; most were inside celebrating the Spring Equinox with elaborate parties. Those who were out on the streets were traveling to a new gathering, set on their new destination without a care for this odd Noble traveling through their territory, on his way to his own party.
The Third Wall soon loomed above them, a tall, foreboding stone barrier between the world of the Aristocrats and the Commoners. A heavy wrought iron gate barred their way, only a carriage-sized door beside the guardhouse built into the wall open to provide passage. The sound of their approaching footsteps drew a young guard out of the guardhouse, this one sober and alert. One hand rested with confidence on the worn, leather-wrapped hilt of the sword on his hip, the other raised in warning. Peeking out from underneath his helmet were the soft yellow ears and dark, dark hair of Leonus, Lion god of justice.
"Halt! State your names and business," the guard firmly ordered, his long tufted tail swinging in warning.
Jornen glanced briefly to Saul with a smirk, then slowly raised his hands to waist level, though his confident steps never faltered. He stopped only when he was an arm's length from the guard, Saul a step behind him on his right. Beneath the badge displaying the young male's position in the City Guard was the crest of his family - a low-ranking one. As Jornen took note of the guard's family, he felt the Lion-Noble's eyes take in the crest on his golden vest. Surprise filled the guard's face, and he opened his mouth to exclaim an apology. A gold coin pressed into his hand, accompanied by a bright smile from Jornen, cut him off. Wide yellow eyes met heated blue.
"What is your name, soldier?" Jornen purred softly.
It took a couple swallows before the Lion-Noble, just a few years older than Jornen, could answer with a shaky purr of his own. "Merket, milord."
"Merket," Jornen repeated, rolling the name on his tongue as if it were a sweet. "I would ask a favor of you. My family believes me to be ill when in fact I am on my way to meet with my lover. It would not bode well for my honored parents to discover this meeting. I trust you will help keep my secret?" His eyes never leaving Merket's, Jornen curled the guard's fingers around the coin in his palm and gently stroked the rough hand.
"I-I will. I won't tell a soul."
Jornen smiled slowly, heatedly. It was so very easy to play this game; his father had taught him well indeed. "Thank you. I have one more small favor to ask of you, Merket, if you would be kind enough to indulge me."
The Lion-Noble nodded once, shock having given way to something akin to camaraderie. This was not the first time Jornen had had this effect on someone. During private moments, Saul often pointed out that if presented with the opportunity, Jornen could seduce a hardened, elusive Desert Maiden. Jornen highly doubted that his hard-won skills of persuasion were honed enough to ensnare the heart of a queen bound to the Woestijn Sand Cat, however he would readily admit that he'd had more than enough practice in wooing his way into places where rank meant nothing. Yet here, with Merket, Jornen's rank helped rather than hindered.
Purring in pleasure at Merket's ready acceptance, Jornen released the guard's hand to slowly remove his gold-laced vest, nodding for Saul to do the same with his vest of coarse wool. Both garments were soon folded and set into Merket's waiting hands. "Guard these for me until I return," Jornen requested.
"I… My shift ends at second hour," Merket warned nervously.
Second hour… halfway between midnight and dawn. Plenty of time to enjoy a rare night of true freedom in the Commoner's District. Jornen nodded solemnly in understanding. "I will return by second hour," he promised, and Merket visibly relaxed. Smiling softly, Jornen gently drew the tips of his claws over the Lion-Noble's cheek, earning a shudder. "Thank you, Merket. Pardis bless." He let his gaze linger on the other male's eyes for a moment before confidently striding through the gate, Saul a step behind him.
Not even a block into the Commoner's District, the guard was already a distant memory, to be recalled only when it was time to head home. This close to the Third Wall, the wood and stone buildings towering over Jornen and Saul were dark and empty, devoid of their regular occupants - freshly trained slaves waiting to be sold at market. Tonight they were reliving their recently lost freedom while their captors and trainers celebrated the year gone by inside the wall. Knowing full well that Saul was uncomfortable here, Jornen hurried them through until they could begin to see the light from thousands of lanterns. Only then did he slow, and when he began to see people milling around, he pulled Saul into the shadow of an alley mouth. It was a risky move - there were many potential dangers creeping in the darkness - but to do what he was about to in the light would be an even greater risk.
The Havana Brown knew his master well, and he could see the discomfort on the younger male's face. "Milord?" he quietly questioned when Jornen did not immediately speak up.
Sighing, Jornen ran his hands over his ears, tugging on them a little bit in a rare honest show of nerves. He had been planning this moment for weeks now, agonized over it in the quiet hours before sleep came… and now was the moment of truth. "I'm not your master tonight, Saul. Not anymore," he carefully began. "These nineteen years, you have been a friend and a mentor to me, and a better uncle than those related to me by blood. In four months time it will be my Choosing, and the gods will at last free me from the hold of my parents… and I want to share that freedom with you." Before he could change his mind or Saul could protest, Jornen bit down on the pad of his forefinger with a sharp canine. A single drop of blood welled out, and the Noble pressed it to the Commoner's slave collar. The stamped leather gave a small shudder as Tieranth blood released the spell holding it to Saul's skin, and it slid down Saul's front into his waiting hand.
Surprised green eyes gazed at Jornen. All his life, Saul had been a slave in the Tieranth household, and while he was well used to Jornen's unusual kindness and compassion, he had never considered the idea that his master would be willing to give him the one thing he had never known yet always desired - his freedom. For a few seconds, Saul felt the intense urge to drop the collar and run before the young Noble could change his mind. But as quickly as it had come, the urge passed and reason took over. Smiling gently, Saul shook his head. "No. Milord, I -"
"Jornen," the younger tom stubbornly interrupted, his chin high in a show of almost bratty determination to have his way.
Saul bit back a fond chuckle and nodded. "Jornen," he allowed. "I was not exaggerating when I said that you are the only master worth anything in your household. If I left you now just as you are about to enter your majority, I know I would regret it." He held up a hand, cutting off Jornen's next protest. "I know how difficult this is for you, and I am more grateful than you could ever know, and if you were any other master I would take your gift and run… but just as you care enough for me to let me go, I care for you too much to leave." Saul held out the collar in a silent request for Jornen to put it back around his neck.
Confused blue eyes stared at the collar for a long moment before Jornen shook his head. "Put it in your pocket, Saul. If you still want to return with me in the morning, I will put it back, but until then you are a free tom to do as you please."
"Very well." The Havana Brown tucked the stamped leather into his trouser pocket, then asked the question he knew Jornen wanted him to ask. "If you do not mind, I would still like to accompany you tonight. I am unaccustomed with Equinox celebrations on this side of the walls, and I would feel out of place if I were to enter a party alone."
A spark of relief flashed through Jornen's gaze, gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Of course. But you are to address me by my given name the whole time. I am not your master tonight, but your companion."
"Agreed."
Satisfied that Saul would feel comfortable tonight to act like the friend he truly was, Jornen carefully removed a tiny cloth bag from his pocket. It glowed faintly in the dark alley from the spells woven into its fibers to shield its very illegal contents from prying magical eyes. Motioning for Saul to stand guard, the young Noble extracted a simple gold band from the little pouch of raw cotton. In the light, the ring would have looked like any other unextraordinary piece of shaped metal, but here in the shadows the gold glowed with a soft internal light, and if Jornen concentrated, he could almost see the miniscule words and shapes forming the spells forged into the gold. Taking a deep breath, he slipped the ring onto the third finger of his left hand.
The pain was instant. Jornen hissed as little sparks of heat danced over his eyes and as his ears burned. Every inch of his skin tingled as if he had touched lightning. Then, just when Jornen was beginning to think this was a bad idea, the pain stopped, leaving him to shake and blink tears from his eyes. Tentative fingers reached up to feel his tender ears, to check and make sure the spell had worked. What he found made Jornen grin in pleasure, and he stepped closer to the light. "Well?" he asked Saul. "What do you think? Convincing?"
Saul turned towards his master and did a double-take. Jornen's blue eyes were now a light green, and his round Noble pupils now the slits of a Commoner. His round ears were now pointed, and his auburn hair had taken on the reddish tint so often associated with Havana Browns. Even his naturally tanned skin had taken on a subtle red hue. The young Noble had transformed completely into a Havana Brown Commoner, and now would draw attention only as a purebred tom of a rare breed rather than as an Aristocrat mingling with those far beneath him. Without the cocky grin and the familiar casual confidence in Jornen's stance, Saul almost would not have recognized him. Brows raised in approval, the older tom applauded briefly. "And just how much did this questionable and highly illegal spell cost, might I ask?"
"Far more than you truly want to know," Jornen readily admitted, giving in to the urge to play with his new ears. "Subtle and simple shapeshifting spells are apparently the hardest, at least for the spellcaster, and especially when impregnated into something that can be worn multiple times. But I wanted a shapeshifting spell rather than an illusion since illusions are so easy to spot."
"Especially if, say, some lovely queen decided to fondle your ears," Saul teased, smirking when Jornen dropped his hands and wrinkled his nose in a show of affectionate brattiness.
With a bright excited grin, Jornen draped an arm over Saul's shoulders. "Come on, you old crone. Let's go find us a party!"
----------
All worldbuilding info for Taboo can be found here.
Next week: Jornen finds the party he was looking for... with interesting results.