The Unsuitable Slave. Part 29/34
“Do I get to hear the story of how you met Steve?”
Jensen snickered and choked back a bigger laugh. “It’s not so exciting. It isn’t exactly the big secret he made it out to be. He doesn't want safe houses compromised but he must know I wouldn't give those to anybody. Ever since we arrived he's been like an over-protective parent who isn't sure about my new boyfriend. Mostly I think he was trying to save me from embarrassing myself in front of you.” He pointed at Jared.
Jared sat back up with avid interest and an evil grin. “Boyfriend, huh? Well the boyfriend is not going to shut up till you tell him.”
“Alright, alright!” Jensen put his hands up in defeat. “But if you mock me it will incur an awful punishment.” He wriggled his fingers toward Jared’s ticklish feet.
“I might enjoy it,” purred the slave.
“Oh sweetie, I’ve already seen you scream like a little girl when your toes are involved.”
“Quit avoiding the subject, Jen.”
“Alright, alright. I got caught with my pants down and Steve rescued me.” Jensen spoke the sentence, in double time and gave his best innocent grin. “There, story told.”
“Oh, no, no, no, Jen. Definitely not good enough. Morbid details please. There is plenty I can blackmail you with!”
Jensen stuck his tongue out at the younger man.
“Mmm. Sexy,” teased Jared.
“Do you ever stop?”
“Nope, not until you tell me.”
"And I'm supposed to be the cruel one. " Jensen scrunched his face up to glare at him. “Alright!” He settled with his head in the crook of Jared’s arm. “Command of covert operations is supposed to be sexy, right? Full of intrigue and interesting situations? That’s what I thought when Josh decided to appease me after his meteoric promotion. Well, it isn’t. It’s dull and it sucks, especially when you’re not actually allowed to do anything covert. The only thing Papa and Josh were interested in was a little spying to discover the probable location of the next battle, the numbers each army consisted of and the array of weapons they might use. There was hardly ever good reason for a murder or a torture session. The good stuff like kidnapping you or assassinating a few Lords was strictly off limits and if Pa had his way I would have been commanding from afar, and that’s even less fun.” Jensen thought a little. "It may actually turn out to be a good thing I didn't assassinate Earl Ford."
Jared concentrated on straightening the arc of his lips.
“Do not smile! You know what I did? I cobbled.”
“You cobbled?” Jared wondered what he was missing in the conversation.
“Uh-huh, I am a Master Craftsman, a travelling cobbler. I can resole your boot faster than your average shoemaker. You know what every soldier, cavalryman and Officer does before he goes into battle? He makes sure his boots are in perfect condition. They are the most important piece of equipment.”
“You do have a point.”
“Damn straight I do! Others in my command traveled as tailors with uniform cloth and buttons or horse traders with fine steady steeds but I got to mend shoes. Once those boots are ready to go, the next stop is generally the Inn and where do you think said cobbler will be staying the night? Liquor, my Child, is the best tongue loosener. If said target is a complete bastard, then it is also useful to drop the defenses of an arrogant man so that there is opportunity to play.”
"Play?"
"For instance, it is difficult for a sober man to go into battle missing several fingers but easy to have a drunk man bet on his skill with a knife. Drunk men are also apt to drown in fast flowing rivers, that sort of thing."
Jared didn't think he liked the glint in Jensen's eye that suggested fond memory, he moved the subject on. “This doesn’t explain Steve.”
“No, I’m getting there.” Jensen licked playfully at Jared’s chest. “Steve was a weird one. I couldn’t figure him out. On the one hand he is in all the right social circles, on the other he never seemed to affiliate himself too closely with any of them and his household never gave a single detail of his itinerary away. He was a mystery but we had others so I continued calling to make myself familiar.”
“How familiar?” Jared’s voice was teasing but he couldn’t hide a possessive edge.
“No! Not that sort of familiar! Do you think Sophia would leave me alive if I was that sort of familiar? Mind, in the end it was that sort of thing that led me into trouble. See, the other thing about spying on the Realm, that sucked for me, is the singular lack of opportunities to get any sort of sexual satisfaction that doesn’t involve my hand. However drunk a guy is in the Realm, they’re not going to hook up with another man in a bar and brothels are severely regulated. Hell! on any given night, at least a third of the clientele will be Elders. I was seventeen, I was permanently horny. You know how it is because you’re there right now.” Jensen palmed at Jared’s half hard cock to make his point and his slave chuckled and knocked his hand away. His Master returned one hand and tugged painfully on his collar with the other. “My property! I can handle it when I like,” he reprimanded with serious growl.
Jared’s cock went from half mast to full in moments and he cursed as Jensen smirked.
“Where was I? Oh, yes, inns. Three weeks into a serious stint within the Realm and I was climbing the walls with lust, I was also busy plying a particularly nauseating man with ale which was served by fittest barman I’d ever met, who had a very bright smile for me. Matthew caught on to my game quickly. He egged me on, and, as I soon found out, spiked the man’s drinks. He’s a strong lad with jet black hair and beautiful blue eyes. I seem to have a thing about eyes.” He stroked Jared’s cheek. “Yours are the prettiest of all, he doesn’t compare to you.”
Jared pulled his arm in around Jensen, to cuddle closer.
“When our target was finally unconscious Matthew helped me to drag him into the alley where we left him at the door of the local brothel, with a newly circumcised dick and a note asking for the cheapest ride. Cruel but fun! Course a brothel can remind a man of what he can’t have and it got a little heated there in the dark, before we both got a grip and stopped. We made a date instead, a rendezvous by a remote lake in a remote field in a ridiculously outlying area of the village and he followed me out as soon as the bar closed.”
“So how did you get caught? I’m assuming this was the pants down incident.”
“Your stupid Gods and Stars got me caught. We found our way to a warmed rock on a ledge and made out under twin rising moons and a bright star-lit sky and Matthew, he wasn’t inexperienced, not at all. What he could do with his mouth should be a part of our school syllabus, because wow, this thing he does...”
Jared cut him off, “Jen ...”
“Yeah.”
“Too much information.”
"Oh. You're better. You really mean it when you're on your knees." Jensen kissed lightly at his slave's skin and continued, “Right , well, anyway, as I said, twin freakin’ rising moons and apparently a super special outdoor prayer circle for godsdamn Elders from about all the local villages. The bastards were on the hill above us and waited especially to make sure we were at the very pinnacle of our activities before jumping us. Biggest cock-block ever .”
Jared was tempted to laugh but he also understood the seriousness of the crime they had been caught in and the associated tortures. “Gods Jen,” he breathed and caressed the older man’s arm, “What happened to you and to Matthew?”
“Well, obviously my weapons were out of reach, except the one, y'know,"
"Mmm, I know it, a very mighty weapon," Jared mocked, and stroked Jensen's cock reverently. Jensen didn't reprimand him, he wriggled a little to give Jared a better angle
"... and my men were nowhere to be found. I'd sent them on to our next location when I thought I was going to get lucky and there was no way I was taking James out to that lake with me. Matthew and I got lucky, the jail they had us thrown into was temporary, little more than a drunk tank for local trouble makers. I had a pair of my own trusty boots on and being a master craftsman the heel was hollowed to contain lock picks and a small knife. Getting out was the easy part. Finding somewhere to go was the problem and as selfish as I can be, I didn’t want Matthew to suffer. Turned out Matthew knew somebody, who knew somebody and we passed through three households in the one night until a final stop for which we were blindfolded in case we were infiltrators."
"Kinky."
"No, it was scary! I remember hearing the voice when Steve identified me, well he recognized my alter-ego and his cobbler. Steve had been rescuing deviants for a fair while. We stayed a few days and I didn’t dare risk contacting my men. Matthew’s friends had been careful so we weren’t traced. After four days Steve explained that there was a problem. They had to get us out of the Realm into the Kingdom but his usual routes were being blocked by Misan troops and we couldn’t get the appropriate papers to make us safe. I guess that’s where it all started. I explained that I could get anyone into the Kingdom, if he could get us over the border. I didn’t explain how and he made me cross several times over several days before accepting my word. Matthew got out and I saw an opportunity and offered regular assistance. It was an exciting sideline that Josh didn’t need to know about. Oftentimes there were chases and sometimes we got to secure revenge. It was six months before I trusted Steve enough to give him my real identity and he was so angry with me he punched me to the floor. We’ve been good friends ever since.”
Jared did laugh at that. “Perhaps I should have punched you when we first met.”
“I’m sure you would have done if you hadn’t been too busy being heroic.”
“No, I would have killed you. I’m glad I didn’t.”
“I’m glad too.” His Master took his property firmly in his hand and slid his torso, with hot friction, down Jared’s aching body until his mouth slid wet, warm and velvet, around his slave’s eager erection. “Enough talking,” Jensen said, as the younger man moaned his approval.
There was little sleep for the Master and his slave, before the sun rose.
***
He watched as far as the eye could see. The small band of soldiers and allies rode out in warm cloaks and full weaponry. Weak sunlight reflected from bare branches and frost-glazed grass, making him squint to maintain the contact. Winter was on its way and he wondered if anything would prevent the misery of another harsh war-poor season.
Misha, Victoria and Chad accompanied Jensen’s small force. Jared had recognized many of the faces from his first days as Jensen’s captive. Captain Beaver greeted him with a hearty hug and warm hello. Others gave curious glances and outright stares but everyone eventually returned to their preparations without a word to the slave by Jensen’s side. Their numbers were diminished, Jared had noted that, and conversations sometimes stopped in a silent space where a now-absent comrade would have jumped in with a joke or comment.
Steve’s fighters saddled and armored themselves in tandem with Jensen’s men but there was little interaction and the atmosphere was tense and uneasy. The remains of the Queen’s Guard, with Captain Kane at the fore, was to meet them at a later rendezvous. Jared wondered how much more tension that would add to the unlikely allies.
Jared touched a finger to his lip where Jensen had kissed him deep and brutal, in the stall of the stables, and asked him to wait for him, had kissed him again sweet and tender and told him not to give up, whatever transpired. He moved the pad of his finger to a purple bruise by his collar and pressed the flesh, he felt the sharp ache and the promise of it. “Mine,” Jensen had told him before he departed.
As the final dot disappeared on the horizon Sophia reached a hand and took his arm. “C’mon, it’s cold out. There’s nothing to do but keep faith.” Jared sighed and let her guide him back to the Manor.
**
Green wood popped and crackled in the heat of orange flame. He stared into the hearth, watching the flickering fire. Low afternoon sun filtered through the thick glazed window but a tall, sturdy candle burned on the mantelpiece. Cream wax melted and dripped, gathered, then reset on its curved edge. The flame burned for Jensen and Jared would not extinguish it. It would flare until his Master returned or the wax dwindled and burned down. He refused to consider the latter.
He blanked out the incessant drone of his mother’s pleas for drugs she didn’t need but couldn’t let go. How long had this been her narrative? Maybe hours but it didn’t matter, this dependency wasn’t her. He could ignore it, he had to ignore it. This was normal, the doc had told him so and books from the library confirmed it. His mind and heart were in Venne and even his mother’s anger and tears couldn’t pull him back. He patted her hand, set out Mahjong tiles for her and fetched her water.
At some point the begging ceased and The Queen slept quietly. The slow click and roll of a ball-bearing clock was rhythmic hypnotism in the thick silence of the house. Jared watched the drip of wax and pulled an image of Jensen into his mind. He tried to remember all of his freckles, counted them until he lost his mark, then started again. When that became frustrating he catalogued every bruise and ache in his body with a sense of pride and contentment.
Soft footsteps broke him from his reverie. Sophia handed him a mug of warm coffee, drew up a chair and sat next to him. “I can’t settle,” she said. “It’s the not-knowing.”
Jared took the mug and blew across the top, steam curled and dissipated. He nodded and took a sip. He could think of nothing he could say to comfort her. They sat in companionable silence and the fire crackled, the clock clacked and clicked and the wax of the candle dripped and gathered.
He returned to his room when all others retired but he didn’t climb into the big, cold, and empty bed. He pushed a squashy, soft couch to the nook by the window and draped a soft woollen throw about his shoulders. He sat with his feet tucked up on the cushion and stared up at silver clouds that scudded across jewelled, ebony sky, trailing over bright slivers of the moons. An owl swooped in stark silhouette, hunting for the last easy-pickings before the freeze. He studied it, this predator with, smooth grace and natural violence. Predator, that is how Jensen described him and he couldn’t dismiss the notion. He knew he was a good swordsman, he had defeated too many to lie to himself or call it prideful. He had excelled in close wrestling, archery and every combative skill. Morgan had ensured the best trainers and fullest schedule but he had always possessed instinct.
What Jared hadn’t been able to predict from his closeted tournaments is the anger that simmered within him, how he enjoyed the reality of the fight and the sharp thrill of the kill. Uncomfortable memories scratched and worried at him. “Morgan’s puppet prince.” was how Jensen had once described him. How had his Uncle intended to pull the strings? How much of him remained Jeffrey Morgan’s design?
He couldn’t sit, couldn’t wait, the only people that mattered to him were embroiled in their own battles. He sat helpless, watching the slow progression of the night. He wasn't aware when he moved from his seat and he didn’t see the sentry that stalked him, monitoring his progress from a distance. Sophia’s soft touch and tired voice found him barefoot, blank-eyed and shivering on the frigid, white-iced lawn.
“C’mon in Sweetie, I’ve some cocoa on the hearth.”
He let her lead him indoors by the hand, took the drink that was proffered and allowed her compassionate charm to chip at his carefully constructed armor.
“I can’t hate him. I don’t know what I feel any more.” It tumbled, unasked, from his lips.
“Jensen?”
“Morgan,” he spoke into his mug.
“He’s your kin.”
“I love him. He’s like a father to me. He was the one who was always there for me. He had my first sword forged, he took me riding, showed me the constellations. He comforted me when I was lonely and gave me Harley and Sadie.” Jared's voice broke and hitched as he pictured his hounds, alone in the chaos of a Palace under attack. He didn’t even know if they still lived, or if they were ended with mercy after his funeral.
“I can’t think of him as a monster. How can I even be sure that it was his will to have me dead?”
“You’re an intelligent lad, Jared.” She left it at that.
He buried his head in his hands. “What if I am shaped the same? I think I have good intentions but sometimes I burn with fury and righteousness. He was my hero, my standard and if that was my mold and it is wrong, what does it make me?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “It makes me wrong.”
Her questions were gently probing. “What do you think about Jensen? He idolized his father. All he ever wanted was the King’s love and approval. Is he the same as his father?”
Jared pulled his hand through his hair “I can’t know that, I never met the King in his last years. Jensen is…” he faltered and lowered his eyes. “He’s not wrong but, the things that he does, he’s not all right either.”
There was a sharp intake of breath and Sophia leaned in to catch his eye. “Jared, sometimes Jensen scares us all, but he has never done anything to make me think he would harm us. You must tell me if Jensen is keeping you against your will. We see your collar and make that assumption and then we see your actions and they contradict. Offering yourself in your honor is not the same as consent and keeping you by fear of the alternative, is not care. Does he hurt you? Does he scare you, Child? We would defend you if you needed that.”
He was quick to reply but it was difficult to find the correct words for emotions he had never named, “No, Sophia! Don’t think that. Sometimes, there is a glimmer of something, he has a darkness which haunts him but there was opportunity to have my freedom and I didn’t take it. I chose this, I chose him. It is hard to describe what he is to me, I can’t pretend it is right, only that I crave the darkness every bit as much as I need what is right with him.”
“Being deviant isn’t wrong Jared, love isn’t wrong.”
“I know. I am coming to terms with that. This thing, that is between us, gives us respite from all other wrongs, it is alive and vital and perfect. What he needs to take, I need to give.” He rubbed at his face. |He was sure he sounded insane.
“Isn’t that the definition of true love, Jared? Two halves of a soul which fit together, without rules or reason?”
“I can’t lose him now.” Jared choked back a sob, “How do you stay so calm with Steve gone?”
“I’m a mess, Sweetie but he will come home to me. I have to believe in that. Jensen will come home to you. Your love is the magnet.”
“I’m not even sure where home is, Sophia. It is no longer in the Realm and Jensen demonstrates no ties to the places of his childhood.”
“Oh but isn’t it obvious Jared? It doesn’t matter where you are. You are his home and he is yours.”
“What about my mother? What about Meghan? Where is their home now? You cannot pretend a revolution can play out and all will stay the same.”
“Of course not! They will find a home wherever love is. Earl Ford has chosen to rebel but he remains a Royalist and his sway will be great in any new order. There are few who would see your family destitute and many who will want their influence. A balance shall be struck.”
Jared couldn’t help the slightest smile as he studied her. “Are you so good with every refugee who passes through?”
“There are a lot who have been broken. At first I tried to fix them but it doesn’t work. I learned from my mistakes that people are resilient and they must be allowed to find their own faith and strength. Not everyone we helped has been a success but I hear from enough to know that there is hope.”
“You don’t even support a Monarchy do you?” Jared was sure he hadn’t misread her comments and body language during his stay.
She gave a wry smile. “My political leaning is for a government of the people, but I don’t forget that everyone is an individual with their own problems. We all feel pain. I may hate the system but I don’t hate you or your mother. I dislike the Kingdom’s hierarchy and abhor slavery but I could never hate Jensen.”
“You’re a fine Lady. Steve is fortunate, the Realm is fortunate.”
“Nobody is perfect. I’m told that I’m an evil bitch if dinner is served cold, I am quick to temper if a maid should mix rose and iris in an urn and I will kill anybody who threatens my husband's safety.”
Jared reminded himself that even Jensen didn't doubt Sophia's protective nature when it was applied to Steve. He returned a smile at her and tapped at his mug to break the renewed silence.
Part Thirty
Masterpost
Back to Part Twenty Eight