The Gladiator and the Courtesan, Supernatural RPS, NC-=17
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Title: The Gladiator and the Courtesan ( all of Courtesan can be found here)
Pairing/Characters: Jared, Jensen, OMC, OFC, Jeff
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6104
Summary: Total AU. Jared faces Fallon. Jensen waits.
A/Ns & Warnings: Violence. This is the final chapter of this main story. Unlike the original chapters, it is told from both Jared's and Jensen's POV. Never fear there are at least one prequel and one sequel already in mind for this Verse.
Art, from apieceofcake...
Jared woke alone, disoriented and stiff. His body protested as he rolled slowly onto his back, his eyes surveying the room slowly. For a long moment he was unsure of himself, then he remembered the night before, how he had stood before the king a free man, had accepted the challenge to face Fallon, how he had returned to Lord Jeffrey’s room and been taken to his bed.
Lord Jeffrey was already gone, and Jared stretched a little against the cool linen of the sheets. The five long days of fighting had etched themselves into his muscles, a long, slow burn in his arms and legs that was part fatigue, part strain. It was not often a gladiator was called upon to fight two days in a row, let alone five.
And Jared still had one more fight to win. He needed to get up and start loosening up his body. Prepare.
He slid from the bed, striding across the room with little care for his naked state. He opened the bedroom door and Astin jumped. “I was told not to wake you.”
Jared smiled for him. “You are fine, Astin. What time is it?”
“Still morning. The fight is set for after the noon meal.”
Good. That gave him time. “You brought me clean clothes?”
“Lord Jeffrey’s orders.” Astin gestured. Jared raised an eyebrow as he reached for them. The clothes of a free man, not a gladiator. The tunic was soft to the touch, with sandals not boots. “Your armor is cleaned and awaiting you at the arena.”
Jared let a hand settle on the boy’s head. “Thank you Astin.”
There was a knock at the door and Astin went to answer it, coming back with a tray of food. “Lord Jeffrey bids you eat well, and prepare. Prince Fallon is in a right foul mood, and has already killed two of his sparing partners this morning during his warm up.”
Jared had seen the prince in practice on more than one occasion, though the prince would never know that. He was fast, faster maybe than Jared. His sword handling was smooth and beautiful to watch. But Jared had seen enough to know his weakness, a small opening Fallon created in his arrogance that no one would be brave enough to utilize it.
Jared sat and took the tray, sharing the food with his apprentice. Only, he wasn’t really his apprentice anymore. Jared was no longer a gladiator. He supposed Jeffrey trusted the boy, thus he let him continue serving as Jared’s valet.
The boy hadn’t been in the arena himself since they had come to the capital. Jared had kept him working out, practicing and learning, but there were few fights for the young boys during tournament.
Maybe he could ask Jeffrey to free the boy. Or maybe Jeffrey would take an interest in him, as he had in Jared. Help him out a little. Jared pulled the tunic over his head and finished off the dried meat on the tray. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
After he won today. “Astin, I want you to know that I will do what I can…to help you.”
Astin looked away. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Jared reached for his hand. “I love Jensen, you understand that, right?”
Astin made a face. “You barely know him.”
The boy was right. All they had were stolen moments, a night or two spent together because Jared had earned the privilege. “Some day you’ll understand.” Jared sighed. “I wish I could just…see him. Once. Tell him how much I love him before…” Jared rubbed a hand over his face. There was still a chance he would die today. He didn’t think Fallon was above playing dirty.
“There might be…” Astin rolled his eyes and stood. “I can’t get you in to see him, but I might be able to send him word. A note.”
Jared stared at him for a long moment. “We would have to hurry.” Astin chewed on his lip. “And pray the gods we don’t get caught.”
Jensen paced the increasingly small confines of his suite; door to kitchen, kitchen to bedroom, bedroom to garden, garden to door. In all his time in these rooms they had never felt so confining, he had never felt so desperately alone and cut off.
There was the sound of the small door in the kitchen and Jensen darted in, kneeling beside the small opening. “What news?” Jensen breathed.
The boy on the other side was excited, Jensen could feel it.
“Aren’t you eager this morning?”
Jensen tried to reign in his own excitement, fear. “Jared?”
“He is free, even now. He beat the Prince’s champion in the arena yesterday and the king gave him his freedom.”
Free. Jared was free. Jensen’s heart pounded in his chest. The kitchen boy was pushing a tray of vegetables through the door. Jensen pulled it in, set it aside.
“Jared was challenged to another fight though, by the Prince himself.”
“He will fight?”
Jensen could tell by the shadows that the boy was nodding. “How do you turn down the king that just gave you your freedom? Here, I brought you some of those apples you liked.” His hand came all the way in through the door, two red, shiny apples in it. Jensen hesitated.
That was a line he hadn’t crossed. He stared at the hand, at the apples, then slowly moved to lift them, careful not to touch. Only, the apples weren’t the only thing on his hand. There was a small scrap of paper, folded and resting there.
“I have to get back.” The boy moved his hand and Jensen swallowed. He reached for the paper, taking the corner and sliding it off the boy’s hands. Outside the small door, the boy leaned in, his face blocking out the light from the other side. “Rumor is, if he wins, the king will give him anything he desires.”
Jensen’s chest seized up tightly. “Will he win?”
“Odds are pretty even right now. Prince Fallon has killed two of his sparring partners in his warm up alone.”
Jensen closed his eyes, his hands closing over the paper. “And should he lose?”
“You mean, if Fallon doesn’t kill him?”
“Yes.” The words was little more than a hiss of air.
“He still goes free. I have to go.”
The door closed and for a long time Jensen still knelt there beside it, holding the scrap of paper and offering up thanks that Jared would still be free when it was over, no matter how it ended.
He exhaled slowly and rose, moving back into the sitting room and slowly peeling the piece of paper out of his fist, smoothing it out.
My dearest Jensen,
Today I enter the arena a free man. I will face Fallon on the sands and I will leave him there. When it is over, I will come to you and we will be together forever. I can not wait to hold you in my arms, to touch your face and kiss your sweet lips and know that nothing can ever keep us apart again.
All my love,
Jared
Jensen sank slowly to the low couch, clutching the note to him. He didn’t dare let himself believe. His eyes lifted to the door. When next it opened, he would know his fate.
Jared cracked his neck and shoulders, then swung the blade in his hand. It was almost time. He was in his armor, his helmet lay near the exit from the training yard where Astin stood watch.
He switched the blade to his left hand, tested the weight of it. Kallin had pressed him to be able to wield the blade with either hand, and he had no doubt that he would need it today.
Gladiators were trained to fight by certain rules, rules that increased the enjoyment of the spectators. There was showmanship, a style that often left tender places unprotected, which was why gladiators wore so much more armor than the infantry generally did. Kallin had taught him how to protect those areas, how to fight small, close, where Fallon would least expect it.
Jared could hear the fanfare in the arena, the roar of the crowd. Astin had already told him that there was not an empty seat in the place and no room left for standing either. The whole city, it would seem, had come to see this fight.
“It is time.” Jared nodded and headed for the door. Astin handed him his helmet and Jared slipped it on as he moved toward the entrance to the arena. Astin followed, carrying his shield.
The booming sound of a gong being hit quieted the crowd. The doors opened and Jared stood framed in them as a thunderous voice called out over the arena.
“Your Royal Majesties, Lords and Ladies, people of this fair city, it is an amazing event brought to you on this beautiful afternoon, a battle of unprecedented skill between the King’s Own Gladiator, winner of the King’s Tournament, Undefeated Champion of the House of Morgan, and a Free man: Jared-“ The stadium rocked under the sound of the crowd as Jared stepped out onto the floor, holding up his sword hand in greeting.
When the crowd had settled, the voice returned. “And, the King’s Own Son, second born, Prince of the High Plains, Commander of the Second Army, His Royal Highness, Prince Fallon.”
Once again the crowd went crazy as doors under the King’s box opened and Fallon stepped out into the afternoon. His armor was lighter than Jared’s, a breastplate and shin guards and little more, all of it painted black. He held a shield and his helmet, his sword sheathed as he stepped out to wave to the crowd.
Jared waited for him in the center of the arena, watching him swagger, all confidence and arrogance. Jared would beat that out of him soon enough.
“I trust you are ready for your defeat.” Fallon said as he stopped beside Jared, turning to face the King’s box.
“I would not be so certain, Highness.” Jared said with a slight smile as he too turned to face the king. Together they bowed and when they rose, Jared could see the king standing, his hands in the air. When they fell, the fight would begin. “When the dust settles, we will see who among us lies broken and bleeding on the ground.”
He backed off as the king’s arms dropped and the noise grew in anticipation of the first blows. Fallon rounded on him, already charging forward, but Jared had expected that. It was Fallon’s style, full tilt, holding nothing back. He was all about the swift kill. Jared stepped back, searching for the right spot to let Fallon come. He wanted them out of the center of the arena.
It was a mind game for Fallen, who was used to being the center of attention. Jared intended to keep him out of the center as long as he could…until he dropped him there. Fallon growled and came faster. Jared waited until he was nearly on top of him before raising his shield and taking the first blow.
The sound of the clash rang in the air before it was drowned by the screaming. Jared moved again, his feet dragging through the sand, raising the dust. He was accustomed to the dry and the grit.
Fallon came again and Jared met the blow once more with his shield. He had to give the prince credit, he was strong, and his blade sliced the air beautifully. The shock of the blow reverberated up Jared’s arm. He countered, his own blow striking Fallon’s shield soundly.
They were getting too close to the east wall. Jared couldn’t afford to get pinned against it. That close and Fallon would certainly have the upper hand. Jared moved back toward the center, taunting Fallon to follow.
“What’s the matter, gladiator?” Fallon asked. “Afraid to stand and fight?”
Jared found his spot and stopped, beckoning Fallon in. “I am not afraid of you.”
“Then stop dancing and fight.”
Fallon’s next blow on his shield was devastatingly hard and Jared nearly dropped the heavy protection, but that was what Kallin had told him Fallon would want and Jared couldn’t give it to him. Not yet. He adjusted his grip and pushed forward, making Fallon’s next blow glance off without reaching full swing. Jared thrust with his own sword, in close and sliding it past Fallon’s shield.
Fallon turned, lunging away from the blade, rolling across the sand and getting to his feet quickly. Jared could see from the look on his face that he was pissed at being the first to hit the ground. “Get used to it, Highness. I aim to put you back there soon enough.”
They circled again, perhaps a little more warily than before. Fallon’s grip on his sword tightened as he closed in again. Jared watched him come, adjusting his stance and moving quickly to the side, away from the thrust of his blade. If he kept taking hits on the shield, his left arm would be useless when he needed it.
Fallon yelled and turned quickly, the hilt of his blade landing on Jared’s shoulder. It was enough to unbalance him and he staggered before finding his feet again. He kicked through the sand as he brought his sword up, lurching forward to land chest to shield against Fallon, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
Jared rolled quickly and found his feet, kicking Fallon in the ribs as the prince pushed up from the ground. Jared kicked again, rolling him onto his back. He brought his sword up and around, slicing down, but the prince got his shield up, absorbing the blow and pushing back.
Sweat rolled down his back and over his face. The sun beat down and the morning clouds had long since burned away. Jared watched for his opening, pressed inward, his blade swinging. He needed to get Fallon to lose his shield. It was time to switch things up a little.
Remembering the hours spent with Kallin on the journey, Jared closed the space between them. Fallon wasn’t expecting him to be comfortable up close. Fallon’s shield arm was up, blocking Jared’s approach. He waited until he was almost on top of the prince, then swung his shield instead, bringing it over and down on Fallon’s arm with crushing force.
Fallon cursed and fell backward, his left arm falling wide to the side and the shield slipping from it to lay abandoned in the sand. Jared stomped down on the nearest body part he could, driving the heel of his boot into Fallon’s knee.
Fallon retaliated with his sword, catching the edge of Jared’s shin guard and sending it flying, leaving a long thin cut across Jared’s calf.
Jared backpedaled, grinning. Maybe the prince had drawn first blood, but Jared had succeeded in removing his shield. Fallon climbed to his feet, his blade singing in his hand as he moved in. He would want to end it quickly now. He would be done with the show.
Which suited Jared fine. Fallon came at him and Jared circled, drawing him closer now to the center of the arena. He wanted everyone to see when he dropped the prince on his royal ass. They were both panting, sweating. Fallon’s blade clipped his shield. Jared took the blows, pressing Fallon back slowly, keeping his blade low and waiting. His opportunity would come.
Fallon was starting to limp, favoring the leg Jared had stomped on. His blows did not lose strength, and Jared’s shield arm was heavy. He would need to drop it soon. He waited, stopped pushing into the blows, let Fallon come to him…then just as Fallon’s sword pulled back for yet another blow, Jared dropped the shield, diving forward, his sword thrust forward, taking the prince in the side.
It was not a killing blow, slicing through skin just below his breastplate, spraying Jared’s face with blood as he followed through and rolled away from Fallon’s retaliating blow. Fallon was nearly on top of him before he’d even gotten to a knee, and their blades connected in a screech of metal.
Jared fell backward, his shield hand clasping Fallon’s wrist, his foot seeking out the prince’s stomach and groin, sending Fallon flying and skidding through sand. He got to his feet, stalking toward the prince who was now laying nearly dead center.
He saw the hand in the sand, remembered Kallin’s words about fighting dirty and mostly got his head turned away and his eyes closed before Fallon’s handful of sand struck him. Jared sputtered, batting a hand at his helmet to free him so he could wipe the sand away.
The crowd was screaming. Jared could feel Fallon, even if he couldn’t quite get his eyes open. He took a step back and brought his blade up…but not enough, not nearly. He felt the burn and sting as it found him, the blade sharp and the blow deep, steel sinking in to Jared’s sword arm.
Jared screamed as it bit through him, the hilt slamming into skin. He opened his eyes to find Fallon, his mouth open in a furious scream that shook the ground. Jared wrenched himself away, yanking the hilt of the sword out of the prince’s hand.
Blood burned down his arm. Jared took his drooping sword into his left hand, swinging it a little before turning to the prince who was now unarmed. “You seem to have lost something, Highness.” Jared growled, gasping for air. “Are you ready to admit defeat?”
Fallon cracked his neck and took a defensive stance. “You will bleed to death from your wounds before and when you are dead, I will fuck that little Courtesan you crave until he begs for me to stop, and then maybe I will give him to my army in your honor.”
Jared hesitated only briefly, but Fallon smiled. “Did you think you could hide it from me? Your infatuation? My sister thinks she is clever, but I am not without my own sources of information. I was with him last night. Told him how I would cut your dick off today and bring it to him to remind him who he belongs to.”
He could hear Kallin’s voice in his head, reminding him that anger leads to error, that Fallon would try to goad him into acting rashly. He took a deep breath and let go of the fury, it would not serve him now.
“Have you made peace with your gods, Highness?” Jared quirked a smile, just an upturn in the corners of his mouth and swung the blade again. Fallon took two steps back, his face pale. “I have. I am ready to face them if it is my time. Know only that I intend to take you with me if I go.”
He closed the distance, slicing and forcing Fallon back. Fallon’s eyes followed the blade, just as Jared intended and when he swung wide and Fallon followed, Jared brought his foot up, kicking him in his wounded side. His boot emerged bloody and Fallon staggered, holding his side.
Jared swiped at his legs, stuttering over the top of a shin guard and earning a cut off cry as he found skin. He went faster now, punching forward with the hilt in his hand, across Fallon’s face to the satisfying crunch of bones breaking.
The prince fought to keep his feet, but Jared pressed forward, kicking his knee and sending the prince crashing to his knees in the dirt. Jared leveled his sword at Fallon’s throat, and the prince froze.
The crowd was wild when Jared finally lifted his eyes, looking for the king. Only he could declare it a victory without Jared killing the prince. Not that he would mind. Jared stepped close, his body against Fallon’s pushing him against the blade. Numb fingers of his right hand fisted in Fallon’s hair, pulling his face up to his father’s.
The king held up his hands and reluctantly, the crowd settled. “What say you, Majesty? Is the question settled?” Jared called, his chest heaving.
“Are you willing to concede, Fallon?”
The prince didn’t seem inclined to answer, his face red, his body a tense line of fury. “I have no problem cutting your throat and leaving you to bleed out slowly here in the sands, Highness. I would answer him if you enjoy breathing.”
“I concede nothing, Father.” Jared pressed the blade a little tighter to his throat. “But it would appear the gladiator has skills and I am…bested.”
The noise was deafening and it took the king a few moments to regain silence enough to speak. “Then I declare this match settled. Jared has beaten Prince Fallon.”
Jared released the prince slowly, stepping back and away. He didn’t abandon his sword completely however. There was no way he was trusting Fallon.
The prince climbed to his feet, his face contorted in anger. “Don’t think this is over, gladiator.”
Fallon stormed away, through the doors, leaving Jared alone. He headed back to his cell to have his wounds tended. He had no doubt where Fallon was headed. He could only hope that Lucia would keep her word.
Jensen tried reading, but he knew all the books on his shelves by heart and they did nothing to calm him. He bathed, wishing the hot water would sooth him, but it did nothing but make him overly warm. He washed his face and rose out of the tub to dry.
No matter who came through the door, Jensen knew he had to be his best, his most beautiful. He sorted through his wardrobe, settling on the robe of scarlet gauze and gold cloth and laying it out on the bed. He sat at his vanity and brushed out his hair, fingering the streaks of red. They were freshly dyed, a reminder of Lord Jeffrey who had first suggested he would look good in red.
Jensen braided up the colored sections, pinning the decorative pattern up so that it nearly formed a crown. It was elaborate, which pleased the prince. He liked it when Jensen worked hard to make himself beautiful.
His hand trembled a little as he reached for the jars of make-up, pausing over the small wooden rose nestled among the jars. He lifted it, his eyes rising to the mirror. He always felt so naked without make-up and only Jared had ever seen him as he was. Only Jared.
His fingers caressed the wood tips of the petals, then he slowly put the rose down. He wouldn’t let himself think about what was to come. There was no point in hoping, in dreaming. Jensen could no more affect the outcome than he could the rising of the sun. Once upon a time he knew that and accepted it without question. Since he met Jared so much had changed.
And yet, nothing had. He was still a courtesan, still subject to the whims of those who owned him, property of the State.
Jensen lifted the smallest brush, filled it with black to line his eyes, dark along the base of his eyelid, under the bottom, bold lines out away from the corners, stretching nearly to his hairline before swirling in a tight spiral. While he waited for that to dry, he lifted the pot of red. His lips seemed so pale and naked without the color. He smeared his lower lip and then the upper before pressing them together, making his natural pout a deep red.
There was more red for his eyes, and gold powder and a deep maroon that he swept out under the black lines and onto his cheeks. He added the tiny jewels, between his eyes and over each brow.
Jensen wiped his hands clean on a towel and set about choosing his jewelry, golden hoops for his ears, the golden choker Lucia had given him for his throat. He chose rings for his fingers and toes. He moved slowly, wanting everything to be perfect. He paused a moment before lifting the nipple chain. Fallon liked it. He pinched his left nipple until it hardened, then set the ring over it before doing the same on the right. The chain dangled nearly to his navel.
That left his cock. Jensen picked through the various decorations he had for that, ending with the gold ring that snapped closed and was easy to remove, even over a full erection.
That finished, he rose and pulled on his robe, adjusting it to lay over his shoulders, but open over his chest, letting the gold of the chain show through.
There was little left to do after that but wait.
He did his best not to pace, sitting uneasily for a few minutes, before getting up to fuss with the books on his shelf or the flowers in the vase near the door. He was fairly sure the waiting would kill him.
When at long last he heard the key in the door, he froze, turning slowly. He deflated a little when Lucia eased in, shutting the door behind her.
He dipped in deep curtsey. “Your Highness.”
“I know I’m not who you are expecting, Jensen. But I am here to protect you.”
Protect him. From Fallon. Jared had lost and Fallon was coming to kill him.
As if she could read his thoughts, she shook her head and held up her hand. “It is not what you think. Jared asked me to come, no matter what happened. The fight was not yet over when I came to you. I have the key.” She held it up between them.
There was only one key and Fallon would have to wait for her to be finished before he could come in. Only the king could interfere. He wrung his hands together. Not knowing what was going on was maddening. “He was fighting well.” Lucia offered as she sat on the chair.
“He always does.” Jensen replied, remembering the few times he had watched Jared fight. Jared was always strong, always brave.
They were quiet then. Minutes stretched by as Jensen stood beside the chair and she sat on it and they stared at the floor and the walls and waited.
Then there was noise in the hall, shouting. Prince Fallon. Jensen would know his voice anywhere. Lucia stood, moving between Jensen and the door. The shouting got closer. Jensen couldn’t breathe. If Fallon was there, if he…then Jared was…He closed his eyes, refusing to believe that, refusing anything but the faint glimmer of hope that somehow Jared might still live.
The door shook, wood splintered and the door crashed open, the empty space filling with a bloodied and furious prince. Lucia kept Jensen behind her, drawing herself up to her full height and glaring at her brother. “Fallon! I’m sorry, but Jensen is already occupied.”
“Get out, sister, before I think to point out your part in this little deception to our father.”
“No, Fallon. I won’t let you hurt him.”
“You won’t let me?” Fallon took a step into the room. Jensen could see he was injured, blood seeping from several wounds. “And you think you could stop me?”
“Maybe not, but I can.” Came another voice behind them. Both Lucia and Fallon froze. The king stepped into the room and Jensen dipped deeply in curtsey. “Did you think I didn’t know what was going on here, Fallon? I had hoped today would teach you some humility, but I can see it hasn’t. If you know what is good for you, you will withdraw now, before I decide on further punishment.”
Fallon’s face was red and drawn tight. He was fuming as he glared at Jensen. “The boy beat you fairly. You have no ground to stand on. Go.”
Jensen watched the prince leave, then slowly the king’s words started to seep in. Jared had won. Somehow. He felt his knees start to give, sinking to the floor. “M-majesty?” Jensen looked up, his eyes searching for reassurance that he had heard rightly.
The king smiled gently. “He is having his wounds seen to. When he is finished, I will be making the formal announcement. He will come to you when it is done.”
Jensen nodded, not sure he could say anything more.
“Shall I stay with you?” Lucia asked gently.
Jensen blinked up at her. The king had gone. “I am fine, Your Highness.”
She smiled, kissing his cheek. “I will leave guards at the door, lest Fallon disobey, but I think you have seen the last of him.”
Jensen sat there on the floor after she left. Jared had won. Jared had won.
The shadows grew long and darkness began to settle over the room before Jensen stirred. He found his feet and stood, his eyes darting to the door. It opened slowly. Jared stood in its frame, bandages on his arms and leg, his eyes bright with tears.
Jensen’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t move. Jared stepped over the threshold into the room. The door closed slowly. “Jensen?”
“M-my Lord…I-“ He closed his eyes over building tears, certain he would open them to find it all a cruel illusion.
Jared crossed the room in two big strides, his arms moving to circle around Jensen who stiffened reflexively. “It’s okay, Jen…you’re free.” Jared’s voice whispered as his arms closed around him, pulling him close up to Jared’s big chest.
Free. Somehow Jared had done the unthinkable. Jensen drew in a deep breath, tilting his face back to look up at Jared, who took the invitation, his mouth meeting Jensen’s, firm lips soft yet insistent and Jensen savored the touch before opening his lips to Jared’s tongue.
The year that had passed since that stolen kiss melted away. Jensen’s cheeks filled with fire. A year since Jared had held him and yet Jensen knew each touch, the taste of his mouth, the salt of his tears, the heat of his hands. Jared’s hands slid inside his robe, over flesh and up to his shoulders.
“I have waited so long for you.” Jensen whispered.
“I’m here now.” Jared responded. “Forever.”
Jensen kissed him again, opening himself up as Jared held him close. “Let me touch you.” Jensen murmured, his hands rising to the neck of Jared’s tunic. His fingers trembled as he mapped out the confines of the garment and finding no buttons he sighed his frustration into Jared’s shoulder.
Jared’s hands caught his. “Easy, there is no rush.”
“I need you.” Jensen responded. “To feel you.”
Jared grinned, leaning back enough to reach for the hem of the garment and pull it up over his head, leaving him standing in Jensen’s arms, naked but for the bandages and boots. “Better?”
Jensen blinked at tears and nodded, his hands roaming over Jared’s skin, his fingers tracing scars. Licking his lips, Jensen leaned in to Jared’s body, touching his lips lightly to a scar just under his left nipple. Reverently, he traced it out and up to his shoulder.
There was so much to touch, so much he had missed. Jensen’s lips rushed over skin, leaving a moist trail as he slipped around Jared, hands following, worshiping. Jensen kissed down his arm, over bandages, capturing his hand and stepping toward the bedroom. “Come, my Lord, let me please you.”
Jared shook his head, stopping them in the doorway. “Jensen…wait…I don’t want…you don’t have to…”
Jensen stopped his words with a kiss, rising up on the balls of his feet and drawing Jared’s arms around him. “Shh…my Lord…”
Jared seemed frustrated, pulling away. “I am not your Lord, Jensen. You are free. You don’t…I’m not here just for…this.” He gestured at the bed.
Jensen drew in a deep breath and went to sit on the bed, beckoning Jared with a gesture. He came slowly, sinking down beside Jensen with a sigh. Jensen smiled softly, lifting one hand to cup Jared’s cheek. He wasn’t sure he had the words to make Jared understand.
“For a year I have been here, in these rooms. I served those who came to me. I spoke to no one outside the family that owned me, and when we spoke it was of trivial things, concerns which mean nothing to me. In all those days I longed for those few moments we shared, the days and nights when you showed me your love for me. Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you, and how you saw me.”
He lifted Jared’s bruised and scarred hands, kissing over each finger slowly. “Since the day I was taken from my home, since that last moment when you kissed me despite the danger, I have not known the touch of love. Not like yours. I am hungry for it, my Lord. I am starving for you. Please, do not deny me.”
He surged up into Jared’s arms, capturing his lips, opening his mouth to tease Jared’s tongue out. Jared’s hands came up to hold him, finally closing around Jensen’s hips, pushing his robe out of the way. Jensen struggled out of it, letting it fall away as Jared rolled them, naked skin to naked skin. They moved until Jensen’s head was on a pillow, his legs open in invitation. Jared rose up between them, his hands sliding over Jensen’s thighs.
“You are so beautiful.” Jared’s lips burned against the inside of his knee, up his thigh, and fire danced through him as Jared’s tongue slid over his cock.
“My Lord.” Jensen reached for him, his hands scrambling through Jared’s hair.
“Say my name.” Jared lifted up off of Jensen’s cock, already breathing heavier.
“Jared.” Jensen smiled tentatively. “Jared, my Lord, my Love.” He reached beside the bed for the oil, using it slick two fingers and sliding that hand down toward his ass. “My warrior. My Jared.”
With his ass lubed, he reached for Jared, drawing him in. “Please, my Lord.”
Jared’s mouth fell open as Jensen guided him in. Jensen gasped, he’d forgotten how much larger Jared was than any of the others. Long and thick and Jensen lifted his ass to accommodate him better. “Did I hurt you?” Jared whispered.
Jensen shook his head, breathing through the tight burn as Jared peppered his face with kisses. “Why are you crying?”
Jensen opened his eyes, kissing Jared fervently. “I love you, Jared.”
Jared’s hips flexed against him and Jensen held his breath to keep from yelling out. He wanted this moment to last. Jared’s cock moved slowly, out, leaving him empty and craving. “Please,” he whispered, his hands grabbing at the sheets beneath him. “Please.”
Jared seemed to understand, pushing in, his stroke long and slow.
The dark deepened around them as Jared groaned into Jensen’s chest. Jared’s hand slipped between them, holding Jensen’s cock in his hand. Jensen shuddered. It had been so long since anyone had touched him there. His own pleasure was seldom desired. He stuttered out a word that might have been “please” but even he wasn’t sure when it had finally fallen free of his lips..
Jared repeated the slow drag of his hand up Jensen’s cock and without warning Jensen was coming, slicking their stomachs with come and digging his feet into the mattress. Jensen’s body clenched around Jared, and Jared gasped, his head falling to Jensen’s shoulder as he came.
He rolled off, drawing Jensen up against him. “I love you Jensen. All of this for you.”
Jensen nodded, wiping at the tears and ignoring the makeup that came off his face at the same time. “I know. I am…amazed.”
Jared kissed over his face. “Tomorrow we leave this place. We can go anywhere. Anywhere we desire.”
Jensen hadn’t thought about what came after. It was too much, too frightening. “What will we do?”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as we’re together.” Jared held him close. “I’d like to find my mother. Meet my brothers again.”
Jensen blinked and considered that. He hadn’t thought of his own mother in so long. Would she even be alive? “How will we live?”
Jared squeezed him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve won a fair amount. We’ll sell what we can. I’m sure I can find work. I’m strong.”
Jensen closed his eyes and pushed thoughts of tomorrow away. For tonight, they were together. They were free men and nothing could separate them again.
For tonight, it was enough.
Title: The Gladiator and the Courtesan ( all of Courtesan can be found here)
Pairing/Characters: Jared, Jensen, OMC, OFC, Jeff
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6104
Summary: Total AU. Jared faces Fallon. Jensen waits.
A/Ns & Warnings: Violence. This is the final chapter of this main story. Unlike the original chapters, it is told from both Jared's and Jensen's POV. Never fear there are at least one prequel and one sequel already in mind for this Verse.
Art, from apieceofcake...
Jared woke alone, disoriented and stiff. His body protested as he rolled slowly onto his back, his eyes surveying the room slowly. For a long moment he was unsure of himself, then he remembered the night before, how he had stood before the king a free man, had accepted the challenge to face Fallon, how he had returned to Lord Jeffrey’s room and been taken to his bed.
Lord Jeffrey was already gone, and Jared stretched a little against the cool linen of the sheets. The five long days of fighting had etched themselves into his muscles, a long, slow burn in his arms and legs that was part fatigue, part strain. It was not often a gladiator was called upon to fight two days in a row, let alone five.
And Jared still had one more fight to win. He needed to get up and start loosening up his body. Prepare.
He slid from the bed, striding across the room with little care for his naked state. He opened the bedroom door and Astin jumped. “I was told not to wake you.”
Jared smiled for him. “You are fine, Astin. What time is it?”
“Still morning. The fight is set for after the noon meal.”
Good. That gave him time. “You brought me clean clothes?”
“Lord Jeffrey’s orders.” Astin gestured. Jared raised an eyebrow as he reached for them. The clothes of a free man, not a gladiator. The tunic was soft to the touch, with sandals not boots. “Your armor is cleaned and awaiting you at the arena.”
Jared let a hand settle on the boy’s head. “Thank you Astin.”
There was a knock at the door and Astin went to answer it, coming back with a tray of food. “Lord Jeffrey bids you eat well, and prepare. Prince Fallon is in a right foul mood, and has already killed two of his sparing partners this morning during his warm up.”
Jared had seen the prince in practice on more than one occasion, though the prince would never know that. He was fast, faster maybe than Jared. His sword handling was smooth and beautiful to watch. But Jared had seen enough to know his weakness, a small opening Fallon created in his arrogance that no one would be brave enough to utilize it.
Jared sat and took the tray, sharing the food with his apprentice. Only, he wasn’t really his apprentice anymore. Jared was no longer a gladiator. He supposed Jeffrey trusted the boy, thus he let him continue serving as Jared’s valet.
The boy hadn’t been in the arena himself since they had come to the capital. Jared had kept him working out, practicing and learning, but there were few fights for the young boys during tournament.
Maybe he could ask Jeffrey to free the boy. Or maybe Jeffrey would take an interest in him, as he had in Jared. Help him out a little. Jared pulled the tunic over his head and finished off the dried meat on the tray. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
After he won today. “Astin, I want you to know that I will do what I can…to help you.”
Astin looked away. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Jared reached for his hand. “I love Jensen, you understand that, right?”
Astin made a face. “You barely know him.”
The boy was right. All they had were stolen moments, a night or two spent together because Jared had earned the privilege. “Some day you’ll understand.” Jared sighed. “I wish I could just…see him. Once. Tell him how much I love him before…” Jared rubbed a hand over his face. There was still a chance he would die today. He didn’t think Fallon was above playing dirty.
“There might be…” Astin rolled his eyes and stood. “I can’t get you in to see him, but I might be able to send him word. A note.”
Jared stared at him for a long moment. “We would have to hurry.” Astin chewed on his lip. “And pray the gods we don’t get caught.”
Jensen paced the increasingly small confines of his suite; door to kitchen, kitchen to bedroom, bedroom to garden, garden to door. In all his time in these rooms they had never felt so confining, he had never felt so desperately alone and cut off.
There was the sound of the small door in the kitchen and Jensen darted in, kneeling beside the small opening. “What news?” Jensen breathed.
The boy on the other side was excited, Jensen could feel it.
“Aren’t you eager this morning?”
Jensen tried to reign in his own excitement, fear. “Jared?”
“He is free, even now. He beat the Prince’s champion in the arena yesterday and the king gave him his freedom.”
Free. Jared was free. Jensen’s heart pounded in his chest. The kitchen boy was pushing a tray of vegetables through the door. Jensen pulled it in, set it aside.
“Jared was challenged to another fight though, by the Prince himself.”
“He will fight?”
Jensen could tell by the shadows that the boy was nodding. “How do you turn down the king that just gave you your freedom? Here, I brought you some of those apples you liked.” His hand came all the way in through the door, two red, shiny apples in it. Jensen hesitated.
That was a line he hadn’t crossed. He stared at the hand, at the apples, then slowly moved to lift them, careful not to touch. Only, the apples weren’t the only thing on his hand. There was a small scrap of paper, folded and resting there.
“I have to get back.” The boy moved his hand and Jensen swallowed. He reached for the paper, taking the corner and sliding it off the boy’s hands. Outside the small door, the boy leaned in, his face blocking out the light from the other side. “Rumor is, if he wins, the king will give him anything he desires.”
Jensen’s chest seized up tightly. “Will he win?”
“Odds are pretty even right now. Prince Fallon has killed two of his sparring partners in his warm up alone.”
Jensen closed his eyes, his hands closing over the paper. “And should he lose?”
“You mean, if Fallon doesn’t kill him?”
“Yes.” The words was little more than a hiss of air.
“He still goes free. I have to go.”
The door closed and for a long time Jensen still knelt there beside it, holding the scrap of paper and offering up thanks that Jared would still be free when it was over, no matter how it ended.
He exhaled slowly and rose, moving back into the sitting room and slowly peeling the piece of paper out of his fist, smoothing it out.
My dearest Jensen,
Today I enter the arena a free man. I will face Fallon on the sands and I will leave him there. When it is over, I will come to you and we will be together forever. I can not wait to hold you in my arms, to touch your face and kiss your sweet lips and know that nothing can ever keep us apart again.
All my love,
Jared
Jensen sank slowly to the low couch, clutching the note to him. He didn’t dare let himself believe. His eyes lifted to the door. When next it opened, he would know his fate.
Jared cracked his neck and shoulders, then swung the blade in his hand. It was almost time. He was in his armor, his helmet lay near the exit from the training yard where Astin stood watch.
He switched the blade to his left hand, tested the weight of it. Kallin had pressed him to be able to wield the blade with either hand, and he had no doubt that he would need it today.
Gladiators were trained to fight by certain rules, rules that increased the enjoyment of the spectators. There was showmanship, a style that often left tender places unprotected, which was why gladiators wore so much more armor than the infantry generally did. Kallin had taught him how to protect those areas, how to fight small, close, where Fallon would least expect it.
Jared could hear the fanfare in the arena, the roar of the crowd. Astin had already told him that there was not an empty seat in the place and no room left for standing either. The whole city, it would seem, had come to see this fight.
“It is time.” Jared nodded and headed for the door. Astin handed him his helmet and Jared slipped it on as he moved toward the entrance to the arena. Astin followed, carrying his shield.
The booming sound of a gong being hit quieted the crowd. The doors opened and Jared stood framed in them as a thunderous voice called out over the arena.
“Your Royal Majesties, Lords and Ladies, people of this fair city, it is an amazing event brought to you on this beautiful afternoon, a battle of unprecedented skill between the King’s Own Gladiator, winner of the King’s Tournament, Undefeated Champion of the House of Morgan, and a Free man: Jared-“ The stadium rocked under the sound of the crowd as Jared stepped out onto the floor, holding up his sword hand in greeting.
When the crowd had settled, the voice returned. “And, the King’s Own Son, second born, Prince of the High Plains, Commander of the Second Army, His Royal Highness, Prince Fallon.”
Once again the crowd went crazy as doors under the King’s box opened and Fallon stepped out into the afternoon. His armor was lighter than Jared’s, a breastplate and shin guards and little more, all of it painted black. He held a shield and his helmet, his sword sheathed as he stepped out to wave to the crowd.
Jared waited for him in the center of the arena, watching him swagger, all confidence and arrogance. Jared would beat that out of him soon enough.
“I trust you are ready for your defeat.” Fallon said as he stopped beside Jared, turning to face the King’s box.
“I would not be so certain, Highness.” Jared said with a slight smile as he too turned to face the king. Together they bowed and when they rose, Jared could see the king standing, his hands in the air. When they fell, the fight would begin. “When the dust settles, we will see who among us lies broken and bleeding on the ground.”
He backed off as the king’s arms dropped and the noise grew in anticipation of the first blows. Fallon rounded on him, already charging forward, but Jared had expected that. It was Fallon’s style, full tilt, holding nothing back. He was all about the swift kill. Jared stepped back, searching for the right spot to let Fallon come. He wanted them out of the center of the arena.
It was a mind game for Fallen, who was used to being the center of attention. Jared intended to keep him out of the center as long as he could…until he dropped him there. Fallon growled and came faster. Jared waited until he was nearly on top of him before raising his shield and taking the first blow.
The sound of the clash rang in the air before it was drowned by the screaming. Jared moved again, his feet dragging through the sand, raising the dust. He was accustomed to the dry and the grit.
Fallon came again and Jared met the blow once more with his shield. He had to give the prince credit, he was strong, and his blade sliced the air beautifully. The shock of the blow reverberated up Jared’s arm. He countered, his own blow striking Fallon’s shield soundly.
They were getting too close to the east wall. Jared couldn’t afford to get pinned against it. That close and Fallon would certainly have the upper hand. Jared moved back toward the center, taunting Fallon to follow.
“What’s the matter, gladiator?” Fallon asked. “Afraid to stand and fight?”
Jared found his spot and stopped, beckoning Fallon in. “I am not afraid of you.”
“Then stop dancing and fight.”
Fallon’s next blow on his shield was devastatingly hard and Jared nearly dropped the heavy protection, but that was what Kallin had told him Fallon would want and Jared couldn’t give it to him. Not yet. He adjusted his grip and pushed forward, making Fallon’s next blow glance off without reaching full swing. Jared thrust with his own sword, in close and sliding it past Fallon’s shield.
Fallon turned, lunging away from the blade, rolling across the sand and getting to his feet quickly. Jared could see from the look on his face that he was pissed at being the first to hit the ground. “Get used to it, Highness. I aim to put you back there soon enough.”
They circled again, perhaps a little more warily than before. Fallon’s grip on his sword tightened as he closed in again. Jared watched him come, adjusting his stance and moving quickly to the side, away from the thrust of his blade. If he kept taking hits on the shield, his left arm would be useless when he needed it.
Fallon yelled and turned quickly, the hilt of his blade landing on Jared’s shoulder. It was enough to unbalance him and he staggered before finding his feet again. He kicked through the sand as he brought his sword up, lurching forward to land chest to shield against Fallon, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
Jared rolled quickly and found his feet, kicking Fallon in the ribs as the prince pushed up from the ground. Jared kicked again, rolling him onto his back. He brought his sword up and around, slicing down, but the prince got his shield up, absorbing the blow and pushing back.
Sweat rolled down his back and over his face. The sun beat down and the morning clouds had long since burned away. Jared watched for his opening, pressed inward, his blade swinging. He needed to get Fallon to lose his shield. It was time to switch things up a little.
Remembering the hours spent with Kallin on the journey, Jared closed the space between them. Fallon wasn’t expecting him to be comfortable up close. Fallon’s shield arm was up, blocking Jared’s approach. He waited until he was almost on top of the prince, then swung his shield instead, bringing it over and down on Fallon’s arm with crushing force.
Fallon cursed and fell backward, his left arm falling wide to the side and the shield slipping from it to lay abandoned in the sand. Jared stomped down on the nearest body part he could, driving the heel of his boot into Fallon’s knee.
Fallon retaliated with his sword, catching the edge of Jared’s shin guard and sending it flying, leaving a long thin cut across Jared’s calf.
Jared backpedaled, grinning. Maybe the prince had drawn first blood, but Jared had succeeded in removing his shield. Fallon climbed to his feet, his blade singing in his hand as he moved in. He would want to end it quickly now. He would be done with the show.
Which suited Jared fine. Fallon came at him and Jared circled, drawing him closer now to the center of the arena. He wanted everyone to see when he dropped the prince on his royal ass. They were both panting, sweating. Fallon’s blade clipped his shield. Jared took the blows, pressing Fallon back slowly, keeping his blade low and waiting. His opportunity would come.
Fallon was starting to limp, favoring the leg Jared had stomped on. His blows did not lose strength, and Jared’s shield arm was heavy. He would need to drop it soon. He waited, stopped pushing into the blows, let Fallon come to him…then just as Fallon’s sword pulled back for yet another blow, Jared dropped the shield, diving forward, his sword thrust forward, taking the prince in the side.
It was not a killing blow, slicing through skin just below his breastplate, spraying Jared’s face with blood as he followed through and rolled away from Fallon’s retaliating blow. Fallon was nearly on top of him before he’d even gotten to a knee, and their blades connected in a screech of metal.
Jared fell backward, his shield hand clasping Fallon’s wrist, his foot seeking out the prince’s stomach and groin, sending Fallon flying and skidding through sand. He got to his feet, stalking toward the prince who was now laying nearly dead center.
He saw the hand in the sand, remembered Kallin’s words about fighting dirty and mostly got his head turned away and his eyes closed before Fallon’s handful of sand struck him. Jared sputtered, batting a hand at his helmet to free him so he could wipe the sand away.
The crowd was screaming. Jared could feel Fallon, even if he couldn’t quite get his eyes open. He took a step back and brought his blade up…but not enough, not nearly. He felt the burn and sting as it found him, the blade sharp and the blow deep, steel sinking in to Jared’s sword arm.
Jared screamed as it bit through him, the hilt slamming into skin. He opened his eyes to find Fallon, his mouth open in a furious scream that shook the ground. Jared wrenched himself away, yanking the hilt of the sword out of the prince’s hand.
Blood burned down his arm. Jared took his drooping sword into his left hand, swinging it a little before turning to the prince who was now unarmed. “You seem to have lost something, Highness.” Jared growled, gasping for air. “Are you ready to admit defeat?”
Fallon cracked his neck and took a defensive stance. “You will bleed to death from your wounds before and when you are dead, I will fuck that little Courtesan you crave until he begs for me to stop, and then maybe I will give him to my army in your honor.”
Jared hesitated only briefly, but Fallon smiled. “Did you think you could hide it from me? Your infatuation? My sister thinks she is clever, but I am not without my own sources of information. I was with him last night. Told him how I would cut your dick off today and bring it to him to remind him who he belongs to.”
He could hear Kallin’s voice in his head, reminding him that anger leads to error, that Fallon would try to goad him into acting rashly. He took a deep breath and let go of the fury, it would not serve him now.
“Have you made peace with your gods, Highness?” Jared quirked a smile, just an upturn in the corners of his mouth and swung the blade again. Fallon took two steps back, his face pale. “I have. I am ready to face them if it is my time. Know only that I intend to take you with me if I go.”
He closed the distance, slicing and forcing Fallon back. Fallon’s eyes followed the blade, just as Jared intended and when he swung wide and Fallon followed, Jared brought his foot up, kicking him in his wounded side. His boot emerged bloody and Fallon staggered, holding his side.
Jared swiped at his legs, stuttering over the top of a shin guard and earning a cut off cry as he found skin. He went faster now, punching forward with the hilt in his hand, across Fallon’s face to the satisfying crunch of bones breaking.
The prince fought to keep his feet, but Jared pressed forward, kicking his knee and sending the prince crashing to his knees in the dirt. Jared leveled his sword at Fallon’s throat, and the prince froze.
The crowd was wild when Jared finally lifted his eyes, looking for the king. Only he could declare it a victory without Jared killing the prince. Not that he would mind. Jared stepped close, his body against Fallon’s pushing him against the blade. Numb fingers of his right hand fisted in Fallon’s hair, pulling his face up to his father’s.
The king held up his hands and reluctantly, the crowd settled. “What say you, Majesty? Is the question settled?” Jared called, his chest heaving.
“Are you willing to concede, Fallon?”
The prince didn’t seem inclined to answer, his face red, his body a tense line of fury. “I have no problem cutting your throat and leaving you to bleed out slowly here in the sands, Highness. I would answer him if you enjoy breathing.”
“I concede nothing, Father.” Jared pressed the blade a little tighter to his throat. “But it would appear the gladiator has skills and I am…bested.”
The noise was deafening and it took the king a few moments to regain silence enough to speak. “Then I declare this match settled. Jared has beaten Prince Fallon.”
Jared released the prince slowly, stepping back and away. He didn’t abandon his sword completely however. There was no way he was trusting Fallon.
The prince climbed to his feet, his face contorted in anger. “Don’t think this is over, gladiator.”
Fallon stormed away, through the doors, leaving Jared alone. He headed back to his cell to have his wounds tended. He had no doubt where Fallon was headed. He could only hope that Lucia would keep her word.
Jensen tried reading, but he knew all the books on his shelves by heart and they did nothing to calm him. He bathed, wishing the hot water would sooth him, but it did nothing but make him overly warm. He washed his face and rose out of the tub to dry.
No matter who came through the door, Jensen knew he had to be his best, his most beautiful. He sorted through his wardrobe, settling on the robe of scarlet gauze and gold cloth and laying it out on the bed. He sat at his vanity and brushed out his hair, fingering the streaks of red. They were freshly dyed, a reminder of Lord Jeffrey who had first suggested he would look good in red.
Jensen braided up the colored sections, pinning the decorative pattern up so that it nearly formed a crown. It was elaborate, which pleased the prince. He liked it when Jensen worked hard to make himself beautiful.
His hand trembled a little as he reached for the jars of make-up, pausing over the small wooden rose nestled among the jars. He lifted it, his eyes rising to the mirror. He always felt so naked without make-up and only Jared had ever seen him as he was. Only Jared.
His fingers caressed the wood tips of the petals, then he slowly put the rose down. He wouldn’t let himself think about what was to come. There was no point in hoping, in dreaming. Jensen could no more affect the outcome than he could the rising of the sun. Once upon a time he knew that and accepted it without question. Since he met Jared so much had changed.
And yet, nothing had. He was still a courtesan, still subject to the whims of those who owned him, property of the State.
Jensen lifted the smallest brush, filled it with black to line his eyes, dark along the base of his eyelid, under the bottom, bold lines out away from the corners, stretching nearly to his hairline before swirling in a tight spiral. While he waited for that to dry, he lifted the pot of red. His lips seemed so pale and naked without the color. He smeared his lower lip and then the upper before pressing them together, making his natural pout a deep red.
There was more red for his eyes, and gold powder and a deep maroon that he swept out under the black lines and onto his cheeks. He added the tiny jewels, between his eyes and over each brow.
Jensen wiped his hands clean on a towel and set about choosing his jewelry, golden hoops for his ears, the golden choker Lucia had given him for his throat. He chose rings for his fingers and toes. He moved slowly, wanting everything to be perfect. He paused a moment before lifting the nipple chain. Fallon liked it. He pinched his left nipple until it hardened, then set the ring over it before doing the same on the right. The chain dangled nearly to his navel.
That left his cock. Jensen picked through the various decorations he had for that, ending with the gold ring that snapped closed and was easy to remove, even over a full erection.
That finished, he rose and pulled on his robe, adjusting it to lay over his shoulders, but open over his chest, letting the gold of the chain show through.
There was little left to do after that but wait.
He did his best not to pace, sitting uneasily for a few minutes, before getting up to fuss with the books on his shelf or the flowers in the vase near the door. He was fairly sure the waiting would kill him.
When at long last he heard the key in the door, he froze, turning slowly. He deflated a little when Lucia eased in, shutting the door behind her.
He dipped in deep curtsey. “Your Highness.”
“I know I’m not who you are expecting, Jensen. But I am here to protect you.”
Protect him. From Fallon. Jared had lost and Fallon was coming to kill him.
As if she could read his thoughts, she shook her head and held up her hand. “It is not what you think. Jared asked me to come, no matter what happened. The fight was not yet over when I came to you. I have the key.” She held it up between them.
There was only one key and Fallon would have to wait for her to be finished before he could come in. Only the king could interfere. He wrung his hands together. Not knowing what was going on was maddening. “He was fighting well.” Lucia offered as she sat on the chair.
“He always does.” Jensen replied, remembering the few times he had watched Jared fight. Jared was always strong, always brave.
They were quiet then. Minutes stretched by as Jensen stood beside the chair and she sat on it and they stared at the floor and the walls and waited.
Then there was noise in the hall, shouting. Prince Fallon. Jensen would know his voice anywhere. Lucia stood, moving between Jensen and the door. The shouting got closer. Jensen couldn’t breathe. If Fallon was there, if he…then Jared was…He closed his eyes, refusing to believe that, refusing anything but the faint glimmer of hope that somehow Jared might still live.
The door shook, wood splintered and the door crashed open, the empty space filling with a bloodied and furious prince. Lucia kept Jensen behind her, drawing herself up to her full height and glaring at her brother. “Fallon! I’m sorry, but Jensen is already occupied.”
“Get out, sister, before I think to point out your part in this little deception to our father.”
“No, Fallon. I won’t let you hurt him.”
“You won’t let me?” Fallon took a step into the room. Jensen could see he was injured, blood seeping from several wounds. “And you think you could stop me?”
“Maybe not, but I can.” Came another voice behind them. Both Lucia and Fallon froze. The king stepped into the room and Jensen dipped deeply in curtsey. “Did you think I didn’t know what was going on here, Fallon? I had hoped today would teach you some humility, but I can see it hasn’t. If you know what is good for you, you will withdraw now, before I decide on further punishment.”
Fallon’s face was red and drawn tight. He was fuming as he glared at Jensen. “The boy beat you fairly. You have no ground to stand on. Go.”
Jensen watched the prince leave, then slowly the king’s words started to seep in. Jared had won. Somehow. He felt his knees start to give, sinking to the floor. “M-majesty?” Jensen looked up, his eyes searching for reassurance that he had heard rightly.
The king smiled gently. “He is having his wounds seen to. When he is finished, I will be making the formal announcement. He will come to you when it is done.”
Jensen nodded, not sure he could say anything more.
“Shall I stay with you?” Lucia asked gently.
Jensen blinked up at her. The king had gone. “I am fine, Your Highness.”
She smiled, kissing his cheek. “I will leave guards at the door, lest Fallon disobey, but I think you have seen the last of him.”
Jensen sat there on the floor after she left. Jared had won. Jared had won.
The shadows grew long and darkness began to settle over the room before Jensen stirred. He found his feet and stood, his eyes darting to the door. It opened slowly. Jared stood in its frame, bandages on his arms and leg, his eyes bright with tears.
Jensen’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t move. Jared stepped over the threshold into the room. The door closed slowly. “Jensen?”
“M-my Lord…I-“ He closed his eyes over building tears, certain he would open them to find it all a cruel illusion.
Jared crossed the room in two big strides, his arms moving to circle around Jensen who stiffened reflexively. “It’s okay, Jen…you’re free.” Jared’s voice whispered as his arms closed around him, pulling him close up to Jared’s big chest.
Free. Somehow Jared had done the unthinkable. Jensen drew in a deep breath, tilting his face back to look up at Jared, who took the invitation, his mouth meeting Jensen’s, firm lips soft yet insistent and Jensen savored the touch before opening his lips to Jared’s tongue.
The year that had passed since that stolen kiss melted away. Jensen’s cheeks filled with fire. A year since Jared had held him and yet Jensen knew each touch, the taste of his mouth, the salt of his tears, the heat of his hands. Jared’s hands slid inside his robe, over flesh and up to his shoulders.
“I have waited so long for you.” Jensen whispered.
“I’m here now.” Jared responded. “Forever.”
Jensen kissed him again, opening himself up as Jared held him close. “Let me touch you.” Jensen murmured, his hands rising to the neck of Jared’s tunic. His fingers trembled as he mapped out the confines of the garment and finding no buttons he sighed his frustration into Jared’s shoulder.
Jared’s hands caught his. “Easy, there is no rush.”
“I need you.” Jensen responded. “To feel you.”
Jared grinned, leaning back enough to reach for the hem of the garment and pull it up over his head, leaving him standing in Jensen’s arms, naked but for the bandages and boots. “Better?”
Jensen blinked at tears and nodded, his hands roaming over Jared’s skin, his fingers tracing scars. Licking his lips, Jensen leaned in to Jared’s body, touching his lips lightly to a scar just under his left nipple. Reverently, he traced it out and up to his shoulder.
There was so much to touch, so much he had missed. Jensen’s lips rushed over skin, leaving a moist trail as he slipped around Jared, hands following, worshiping. Jensen kissed down his arm, over bandages, capturing his hand and stepping toward the bedroom. “Come, my Lord, let me please you.”
Jared shook his head, stopping them in the doorway. “Jensen…wait…I don’t want…you don’t have to…”
Jensen stopped his words with a kiss, rising up on the balls of his feet and drawing Jared’s arms around him. “Shh…my Lord…”
Jared seemed frustrated, pulling away. “I am not your Lord, Jensen. You are free. You don’t…I’m not here just for…this.” He gestured at the bed.
Jensen drew in a deep breath and went to sit on the bed, beckoning Jared with a gesture. He came slowly, sinking down beside Jensen with a sigh. Jensen smiled softly, lifting one hand to cup Jared’s cheek. He wasn’t sure he had the words to make Jared understand.
“For a year I have been here, in these rooms. I served those who came to me. I spoke to no one outside the family that owned me, and when we spoke it was of trivial things, concerns which mean nothing to me. In all those days I longed for those few moments we shared, the days and nights when you showed me your love for me. Not a day has gone by that I have not thought of you, and how you saw me.”
He lifted Jared’s bruised and scarred hands, kissing over each finger slowly. “Since the day I was taken from my home, since that last moment when you kissed me despite the danger, I have not known the touch of love. Not like yours. I am hungry for it, my Lord. I am starving for you. Please, do not deny me.”
He surged up into Jared’s arms, capturing his lips, opening his mouth to tease Jared’s tongue out. Jared’s hands came up to hold him, finally closing around Jensen’s hips, pushing his robe out of the way. Jensen struggled out of it, letting it fall away as Jared rolled them, naked skin to naked skin. They moved until Jensen’s head was on a pillow, his legs open in invitation. Jared rose up between them, his hands sliding over Jensen’s thighs.
“You are so beautiful.” Jared’s lips burned against the inside of his knee, up his thigh, and fire danced through him as Jared’s tongue slid over his cock.
“My Lord.” Jensen reached for him, his hands scrambling through Jared’s hair.
“Say my name.” Jared lifted up off of Jensen’s cock, already breathing heavier.
“Jared.” Jensen smiled tentatively. “Jared, my Lord, my Love.” He reached beside the bed for the oil, using it slick two fingers and sliding that hand down toward his ass. “My warrior. My Jared.”
With his ass lubed, he reached for Jared, drawing him in. “Please, my Lord.”
Jared’s mouth fell open as Jensen guided him in. Jensen gasped, he’d forgotten how much larger Jared was than any of the others. Long and thick and Jensen lifted his ass to accommodate him better. “Did I hurt you?” Jared whispered.
Jensen shook his head, breathing through the tight burn as Jared peppered his face with kisses. “Why are you crying?”
Jensen opened his eyes, kissing Jared fervently. “I love you, Jared.”
Jared’s hips flexed against him and Jensen held his breath to keep from yelling out. He wanted this moment to last. Jared’s cock moved slowly, out, leaving him empty and craving. “Please,” he whispered, his hands grabbing at the sheets beneath him. “Please.”
Jared seemed to understand, pushing in, his stroke long and slow.
The dark deepened around them as Jared groaned into Jensen’s chest. Jared’s hand slipped between them, holding Jensen’s cock in his hand. Jensen shuddered. It had been so long since anyone had touched him there. His own pleasure was seldom desired. He stuttered out a word that might have been “please” but even he wasn’t sure when it had finally fallen free of his lips..
Jared repeated the slow drag of his hand up Jensen’s cock and without warning Jensen was coming, slicking their stomachs with come and digging his feet into the mattress. Jensen’s body clenched around Jared, and Jared gasped, his head falling to Jensen’s shoulder as he came.
He rolled off, drawing Jensen up against him. “I love you Jensen. All of this for you.”
Jensen nodded, wiping at the tears and ignoring the makeup that came off his face at the same time. “I know. I am…amazed.”
Jared kissed over his face. “Tomorrow we leave this place. We can go anywhere. Anywhere we desire.”
Jensen hadn’t thought about what came after. It was too much, too frightening. “What will we do?”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as we’re together.” Jared held him close. “I’d like to find my mother. Meet my brothers again.”
Jensen blinked and considered that. He hadn’t thought of his own mother in so long. Would she even be alive? “How will we live?”
Jared squeezed him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve won a fair amount. We’ll sell what we can. I’m sure I can find work. I’m strong.”
Jensen closed his eyes and pushed thoughts of tomorrow away. For tonight, they were together. They were free men and nothing could separate them again.
For tonight, it was enough.