Taboo: Chapter 1: Rite of Passage (Part 1)
Title: Taboo
Genre: Fantasy
Chapter rating: PG
Overall rating: Still unknown, probably R for sexual content
Warnings: None at present
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: It is New Year's Eve, and Ash doesn't exactly share everyone else's enthusiasm for the holiest of days...
Taboo
By Winged Dreamer
Massive claws digging into unforgiving stone, long tail swinging in agitation, Pardis gazed out over the edge of Her balcony at the world stretched out below Her. Even to the eagle, the people down on the ground would have appeared no bigger than grains of sand, but to Her all-seeing eyes, it was as if She were among them. And She did not like what She saw. Ebony fur rippling to release glimpses of the moonlight She commanded, the Great Black Leopard let out a heavy sigh and lay in the shade of the ancient oak Her daughter had breathed life into all those centuries ago to mark the day when Pardis and Her husband Pardus had made the decision to exit the world that had given birth to Them, taking the rest of the divine kind with Them and leaving it in the hands of Their mortal Children. Today was day they would tell their seven-year-old cubs the story of how She, Her husband-son, and Their twin offspring had created the world as known now. Just as they had every year for time unremembered, they would get the story wrong.
Chapter One: Rite of Passage
The midday sun beat down on the noisy marketplace of the Commoner's District, filling the dense crowds with the scent of sweat and musk so powerful it threatened to deaden the nose, just as the cacophony of voices and animals threatened to deafen the ears. Tomorrow was the first day of spring, the Spring Equinox and New Year, and it seemed as if all of Catam had erupted from four months of hibernation to celebrate the return of the sun and of life. Carts overflowing with holiday goods clogged the permanently congested streets, drivers angrily shouting at pedestrians to make way. Temporary shrines to Losa, Sevra, Batus, and Panu had sprouted up on every corner, each one filled with incense, the perfumed smoke adding a faint haze to the already stuffy air. Nearby to the shrines vendors hawked fresh incense, each claiming their blends to be the best and thus guarantee a prayer answered. Males had shed their shirts, using the welcome heat as an excuse to show off the muscles they had not let deteriorate over the winter. Females had traded their warm, covering gowns for daring dresses that revealed arms and backs and glimpses of long leg, showing off their spots or stripes or lack thereof in hopes of attracting a suitor. Children of every age darted through the crowd, delighting in the holiday's freedom and relative safety - up to and including pulling adults' tails and running away before they could be swatted, laughing all the while.
Asher Tanner hardly noticed any of it. The black and grey tabby was busy unloading a cart laden down with food, alcohol, and gifts for a grand New Year's Eve celebration, and his attention was on making sure he didn't drop a crate onto his foot - or startle the already nervous horses. The driver had sworn on Sevra's name that they were tame and gentle beasts, but Ash knew to respect the knife-like fangs set in the back of the horses' mouths and the three talons at the end of each of their powerful legs. Many an innocent had been scarred by an overly nervous horse, and Ash did not care to join their ranks. Especially since the Lady would look very poorly on him if he even accidentally marred the body he had worked so hard to keep flawless.
Standing on the short side of average, Asher made up for lack of height in litheness of body. Lean, tight muscles honed by eighteen years of playing on and traveling across the roofs of Catam flowed effortlessly underneath his dusky grey skin, crisscrossed in the black stripes that marked him as a mackerel tabby. Unusual for someone who had survived hand to mouth and day to day his whole life, Ash had not a single scar or blemish to mar his pattern. Black hair made darker with sweat hung down into wide, intelligent amber eyes, his pupils narrow slits against the harsh sunlight amplified by the fresh coat of white paint on many of the buildings around him. The upright, alert ears atop his head were grey tipped in black. Tucked in protectively close to his right leg was his long tail, its sleek grey fur striped with black all the way down to the clever, flexible ebony tip that was almost always in motion, even in sleep. Right now, it curled against his calf, holding his tail out of the way so it didn't get tangled or caught in something.
Setting a crate down in the already overloaded parlor of Rozas' shop, Ash took a moment to pull a handkerchief from his belt and wipe some of the stinging sweat out of his eyes. A quick hand over his lank hair found the fur of his ears to be just as damp with sweat as the rest of him, and Ash pulled a disgusted face. "I think your father plans to host half the District, if not the whole city, Gilan," he jokingly complained to the young male making notes on a list as each item was brought in.
"It would be a lie to say he hasn't considered it." Checking off Ash's crate, Gilan grinned at his old friend. Somehow, his silver-white hair was still immaculate, and the Siamese's blue-tipped ears didn't even begin to look as if they wanted to droop. Even his clothes still looked fresh. It made Ash feel positively filthy; his own shirt was so glued to his back, he almost doubted that it would ever peel off.
"Stop grinning, or I'll make you go work in the sun while I fart around inside doing nothing important." The temperature difference between the hot, sunny street and cool, shaded parlor was enough for the sweat on Ash's neck to start drying, causing the leather collar he wore to itch. With a wince, he scratched around the collar; the magic that sealed the leather to his skin made working a finger underneath and loosening it impossible. He made a mental note to ask the Lady to renew the collar's anti-itch spells.
Gilan's grin evaporated, and he swatted at Ash's hand, knocking it away from the collar. "Stop that," he murmured, his ice-blue eyes looking everywhere but Ash's neck. "Could you please go get another crate, Ash? We don't have much time to get ready," he said in a louder, steadier voice.
Frowning, Ash headed back outside. It didn't escape his notice that some of the other helpers were now giving him a wider berth than necessary, and his frown became a scowl. Until the moment Gilan had slapped his hand, Ash had been just another male helping Rozas in hopes of getting a few coins or a handout of food for his effort. He was not the only slave using this one of only two free days of the year to help, nor was he the only one scratching at his collar. But because Gilan had called attention to his scratching, the merchant's son had made it clear to all in the room that Ash being a slave made him uncomfortable, which of course in turn made everyone else uncomfortable around him. Sighing, Ash leaned against the cart and debated continuing to help despite the new tension or saying his goodbyes to Rozas and quietly making his leave.
"Looks like someone isn't having a very happy New Year's Eve. Is everything alright, Ash?" The familiar voice drew the tabby's gaze up from the street to find two concerned friends watching him, both wearing the simple cotton and canvas clothing of low-born Commoners like him. They, however, didn't have slave collars to match his own.
Ash met eyes with the orange ticked tabby that had asked the question. "Go ask your other half," he grumbled and turned away.
The orange male let out an exasperated sigh. "What did Gilan do this time?"
"The same thing he does every time, I'd wager," said the petite Bombay queen beside him. "Teveren, go smack your lover for offending Ash's delicate sensibilities again. I'll handle our broody tom." She pushed Teveren towards the shop, leaving her alone with Ash.
"I'm not broody. And I don't have delicate sensibilities," he protested.
"Fine, brooding. And yes, you do." Smiling affectionately to soften the tease, she tossed her long black hair over a shoulder and leaned up to kiss his dusky cheek. "Happy New Year's Eve, Asher."
Ash forgave her the overly intimate contact just this once in favor of the holiday spirit, and answered the kiss with a more casual cheek rub, his sour mood already improving. "Happy New Year, Areyla. How did you manage to escape Feallen? Shouldn't you be over at the tavern preparing for tonight?" he asked, noting that she wasn't wearing her usual apron.
The waitress snorted in frustrated amusement, rolling her orange eyes. "Feallen sent me out to search for a shipment of wine we should have gotten at dawn. Apparently I'm the only one he trusts to not get sidetracked and drunk on his time."
"That's because you are the only one who wouldn't get sidetracked and drunk on his time," Ash teased with a grin. Feallen had notoriously bad luck with his staff. Most turned out to be drunkards, thieves, or lay-abouts, much to the Maine Coon's very vocal dismay. With her no-nonsense attitude, Areyla was the only waitress to last more than a few months in his tavern, and Feallen treated her like the treasure she was.
Areyla snorted, one black ear flicking in playful contempt. "And miss out on all the tips? Are you crazy? I will be rolling in gold by tomorrow afternoon." Tossing her hair a bit and fluttering her thick lashes, she lifted her delicate chin and puffed up her modest bosom until Ash laughed. She grinned. "I love tourists."
"I'm glad you do, because I could definitely live without them." Still chuckling, Ash shook his head a bit. "Anyway, I'd better get back to work. I promised Rozas I'd help him prepare for this huge banquet he's throwing tonight for half the District's merchants, and just because Gilan insists on being stupid doesn't mean I have to."
"Have fun." Areyla gave Ash a tight hug. "Oh, if you want to make some good coin tonight, Feallen needs a couple extra bouncers. The tourists and country bumpkins are exceptionally thick this year."
Ash returned the comfortable hug. "I'll keep that in mind, but I promised Maye I'd be the one to take her to church tonight. It's her turn to hear the Story."
"That's right; she is seven now, isn't she."
"Yeah. She's not going to be a kitten for very much longer," Ash said with a sigh. It was hard to think of his little sister as seven years old already, no matter how precocious she was.
Areyla smiled in perfect understanding. "No, but she's turning into a beautiful little queen thanks to you and your mother. Say hi to Maryam for me, won't you?"
"Of course. You'd better get going before that wine cart makes it to the tavern before you do." Ash rubbed his cheek against hers in farewell. "See you later, Areyla."
"Ash, wait." Areyla pulled a small, folded square of cloth from the bottom of her bodice and pressed it into Ash's hand, her intense gaze heavy with meaning. Embroidered on the corner was a sly Ocelot ready to pounce - Dali, god of thieves and luck. "Here. May the gods smile upon you in the New Year."
His stomach fluttered as he casually tucked the precious handkerchief underneath his belt, careful to make sure it was safely hidden and secure. "And may Vela hold and keep you. Thank you, Areyla."
Flashing him a grin in farewell, the Bombay queen turned on her heel and disappeared into the thick crowd.
A small smile on his own lips, Ash decided he had been hiding outside long enough. Pushing off the cart and reaching around behind himself in an attempt to peel his shirt from his sticky back, he headed back inside just as Gilan and Teveren entered the parlor from a side room. Gilan looked thoroughly chastised, his ears drooping a bit as he trailed behind his lover. One brow raised in question, Ash met Teveren's gaze and got a nod. Satisfied that the Siamese would behave for the rest of the afternoon, Ash went back outside to the cart to get yet another crate.
On to Part 2...
Genre: Fantasy
Chapter rating: PG
Overall rating: Still unknown, probably R for sexual content
Warnings: None at present
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: It is New Year's Eve, and Ash doesn't exactly share everyone else's enthusiasm for the holiest of days...
Taboo
By Winged Dreamer
Massive claws digging into unforgiving stone, long tail swinging in agitation, Pardis gazed out over the edge of Her balcony at the world stretched out below Her. Even to the eagle, the people down on the ground would have appeared no bigger than grains of sand, but to Her all-seeing eyes, it was as if She were among them. And She did not like what She saw. Ebony fur rippling to release glimpses of the moonlight She commanded, the Great Black Leopard let out a heavy sigh and lay in the shade of the ancient oak Her daughter had breathed life into all those centuries ago to mark the day when Pardis and Her husband Pardus had made the decision to exit the world that had given birth to Them, taking the rest of the divine kind with Them and leaving it in the hands of Their mortal Children. Today was day they would tell their seven-year-old cubs the story of how She, Her husband-son, and Their twin offspring had created the world as known now. Just as they had every year for time unremembered, they would get the story wrong.
Chapter One: Rite of Passage
The midday sun beat down on the noisy marketplace of the Commoner's District, filling the dense crowds with the scent of sweat and musk so powerful it threatened to deaden the nose, just as the cacophony of voices and animals threatened to deafen the ears. Tomorrow was the first day of spring, the Spring Equinox and New Year, and it seemed as if all of Catam had erupted from four months of hibernation to celebrate the return of the sun and of life. Carts overflowing with holiday goods clogged the permanently congested streets, drivers angrily shouting at pedestrians to make way. Temporary shrines to Losa, Sevra, Batus, and Panu had sprouted up on every corner, each one filled with incense, the perfumed smoke adding a faint haze to the already stuffy air. Nearby to the shrines vendors hawked fresh incense, each claiming their blends to be the best and thus guarantee a prayer answered. Males had shed their shirts, using the welcome heat as an excuse to show off the muscles they had not let deteriorate over the winter. Females had traded their warm, covering gowns for daring dresses that revealed arms and backs and glimpses of long leg, showing off their spots or stripes or lack thereof in hopes of attracting a suitor. Children of every age darted through the crowd, delighting in the holiday's freedom and relative safety - up to and including pulling adults' tails and running away before they could be swatted, laughing all the while.
Asher Tanner hardly noticed any of it. The black and grey tabby was busy unloading a cart laden down with food, alcohol, and gifts for a grand New Year's Eve celebration, and his attention was on making sure he didn't drop a crate onto his foot - or startle the already nervous horses. The driver had sworn on Sevra's name that they were tame and gentle beasts, but Ash knew to respect the knife-like fangs set in the back of the horses' mouths and the three talons at the end of each of their powerful legs. Many an innocent had been scarred by an overly nervous horse, and Ash did not care to join their ranks. Especially since the Lady would look very poorly on him if he even accidentally marred the body he had worked so hard to keep flawless.
Standing on the short side of average, Asher made up for lack of height in litheness of body. Lean, tight muscles honed by eighteen years of playing on and traveling across the roofs of Catam flowed effortlessly underneath his dusky grey skin, crisscrossed in the black stripes that marked him as a mackerel tabby. Unusual for someone who had survived hand to mouth and day to day his whole life, Ash had not a single scar or blemish to mar his pattern. Black hair made darker with sweat hung down into wide, intelligent amber eyes, his pupils narrow slits against the harsh sunlight amplified by the fresh coat of white paint on many of the buildings around him. The upright, alert ears atop his head were grey tipped in black. Tucked in protectively close to his right leg was his long tail, its sleek grey fur striped with black all the way down to the clever, flexible ebony tip that was almost always in motion, even in sleep. Right now, it curled against his calf, holding his tail out of the way so it didn't get tangled or caught in something.
Setting a crate down in the already overloaded parlor of Rozas' shop, Ash took a moment to pull a handkerchief from his belt and wipe some of the stinging sweat out of his eyes. A quick hand over his lank hair found the fur of his ears to be just as damp with sweat as the rest of him, and Ash pulled a disgusted face. "I think your father plans to host half the District, if not the whole city, Gilan," he jokingly complained to the young male making notes on a list as each item was brought in.
"It would be a lie to say he hasn't considered it." Checking off Ash's crate, Gilan grinned at his old friend. Somehow, his silver-white hair was still immaculate, and the Siamese's blue-tipped ears didn't even begin to look as if they wanted to droop. Even his clothes still looked fresh. It made Ash feel positively filthy; his own shirt was so glued to his back, he almost doubted that it would ever peel off.
"Stop grinning, or I'll make you go work in the sun while I fart around inside doing nothing important." The temperature difference between the hot, sunny street and cool, shaded parlor was enough for the sweat on Ash's neck to start drying, causing the leather collar he wore to itch. With a wince, he scratched around the collar; the magic that sealed the leather to his skin made working a finger underneath and loosening it impossible. He made a mental note to ask the Lady to renew the collar's anti-itch spells.
Gilan's grin evaporated, and he swatted at Ash's hand, knocking it away from the collar. "Stop that," he murmured, his ice-blue eyes looking everywhere but Ash's neck. "Could you please go get another crate, Ash? We don't have much time to get ready," he said in a louder, steadier voice.
Frowning, Ash headed back outside. It didn't escape his notice that some of the other helpers were now giving him a wider berth than necessary, and his frown became a scowl. Until the moment Gilan had slapped his hand, Ash had been just another male helping Rozas in hopes of getting a few coins or a handout of food for his effort. He was not the only slave using this one of only two free days of the year to help, nor was he the only one scratching at his collar. But because Gilan had called attention to his scratching, the merchant's son had made it clear to all in the room that Ash being a slave made him uncomfortable, which of course in turn made everyone else uncomfortable around him. Sighing, Ash leaned against the cart and debated continuing to help despite the new tension or saying his goodbyes to Rozas and quietly making his leave.
"Looks like someone isn't having a very happy New Year's Eve. Is everything alright, Ash?" The familiar voice drew the tabby's gaze up from the street to find two concerned friends watching him, both wearing the simple cotton and canvas clothing of low-born Commoners like him. They, however, didn't have slave collars to match his own.
Ash met eyes with the orange ticked tabby that had asked the question. "Go ask your other half," he grumbled and turned away.
The orange male let out an exasperated sigh. "What did Gilan do this time?"
"The same thing he does every time, I'd wager," said the petite Bombay queen beside him. "Teveren, go smack your lover for offending Ash's delicate sensibilities again. I'll handle our broody tom." She pushed Teveren towards the shop, leaving her alone with Ash.
"I'm not broody. And I don't have delicate sensibilities," he protested.
"Fine, brooding. And yes, you do." Smiling affectionately to soften the tease, she tossed her long black hair over a shoulder and leaned up to kiss his dusky cheek. "Happy New Year's Eve, Asher."
Ash forgave her the overly intimate contact just this once in favor of the holiday spirit, and answered the kiss with a more casual cheek rub, his sour mood already improving. "Happy New Year, Areyla. How did you manage to escape Feallen? Shouldn't you be over at the tavern preparing for tonight?" he asked, noting that she wasn't wearing her usual apron.
The waitress snorted in frustrated amusement, rolling her orange eyes. "Feallen sent me out to search for a shipment of wine we should have gotten at dawn. Apparently I'm the only one he trusts to not get sidetracked and drunk on his time."
"That's because you are the only one who wouldn't get sidetracked and drunk on his time," Ash teased with a grin. Feallen had notoriously bad luck with his staff. Most turned out to be drunkards, thieves, or lay-abouts, much to the Maine Coon's very vocal dismay. With her no-nonsense attitude, Areyla was the only waitress to last more than a few months in his tavern, and Feallen treated her like the treasure she was.
Areyla snorted, one black ear flicking in playful contempt. "And miss out on all the tips? Are you crazy? I will be rolling in gold by tomorrow afternoon." Tossing her hair a bit and fluttering her thick lashes, she lifted her delicate chin and puffed up her modest bosom until Ash laughed. She grinned. "I love tourists."
"I'm glad you do, because I could definitely live without them." Still chuckling, Ash shook his head a bit. "Anyway, I'd better get back to work. I promised Rozas I'd help him prepare for this huge banquet he's throwing tonight for half the District's merchants, and just because Gilan insists on being stupid doesn't mean I have to."
"Have fun." Areyla gave Ash a tight hug. "Oh, if you want to make some good coin tonight, Feallen needs a couple extra bouncers. The tourists and country bumpkins are exceptionally thick this year."
Ash returned the comfortable hug. "I'll keep that in mind, but I promised Maye I'd be the one to take her to church tonight. It's her turn to hear the Story."
"That's right; she is seven now, isn't she."
"Yeah. She's not going to be a kitten for very much longer," Ash said with a sigh. It was hard to think of his little sister as seven years old already, no matter how precocious she was.
Areyla smiled in perfect understanding. "No, but she's turning into a beautiful little queen thanks to you and your mother. Say hi to Maryam for me, won't you?"
"Of course. You'd better get going before that wine cart makes it to the tavern before you do." Ash rubbed his cheek against hers in farewell. "See you later, Areyla."
"Ash, wait." Areyla pulled a small, folded square of cloth from the bottom of her bodice and pressed it into Ash's hand, her intense gaze heavy with meaning. Embroidered on the corner was a sly Ocelot ready to pounce - Dali, god of thieves and luck. "Here. May the gods smile upon you in the New Year."
His stomach fluttered as he casually tucked the precious handkerchief underneath his belt, careful to make sure it was safely hidden and secure. "And may Vela hold and keep you. Thank you, Areyla."
Flashing him a grin in farewell, the Bombay queen turned on her heel and disappeared into the thick crowd.
A small smile on his own lips, Ash decided he had been hiding outside long enough. Pushing off the cart and reaching around behind himself in an attempt to peel his shirt from his sticky back, he headed back inside just as Gilan and Teveren entered the parlor from a side room. Gilan looked thoroughly chastised, his ears drooping a bit as he trailed behind his lover. One brow raised in question, Ash met Teveren's gaze and got a nod. Satisfied that the Siamese would behave for the rest of the afternoon, Ash went back outside to the cart to get yet another crate.
On to Part 2...