|
"In My Master's Arms "Written By: Jewel of Hell Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' but these words Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, violence, slavery, cruelty, possible OOCness, AU/Fantasy/Drama Pairings: 1x2 Summary: In a society where sorcerers are feared
and hated, Duo is given as a slave to a powerful warrior in order
to keep his tremendous power under control. All he wants is freedom
from his cruel master, but nothing is as it seems . . . "In My Master's Arms "
When Duo woke in the morning, he couldn't say for sure what it was this time. He was almost face-first in the pillow, his entire body sprawled and numb. He was blissfully warm and felt heavy, rather like he'd been drugged. It took several moments for his mind to clear enough that he could move, and he blinked and looked around. Beside him, Heero shifted. This morning the prince was laying on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. It was a surprisingly . . . vulnerable position. Duo carefully eased out of bed. Yesterday's headache was a dim echo in the back of his head, still there but farther away. Dressing, he ventured out of the pavilion. As yestermorning, the camp was already beginning to stir, the assigned soldiers gathering things up and making breakfast and making the first preparations to break camp. Duo headed immediately to the store wagon and grabbed a waterskin. This time he completely ignored the soldier tending it. He could feel the glare on his back as he went to the fire and stepped through his barrier. The tingle in the collar against his skin felt slightly more intense this time. Zechs was there, no surprise, eating his gruel. Duo bit his lip, wishing there was something with which to flavor the slop. The soldier cook dished up a bowl and thrust it at Duo without a word. Almost spilling it down Duo's front. He steadied it and calmed himself with a deep breath. "Is there a pot so I may heat this water for . . . the prince?" he asked. The soldier shot him a venomous look. "You're a sorcerer, aren't ya? Heat it yourself." Duo's jaw worked for several seconds before he turned and made his way back to the pavilion. How did those men look at him, to see him so differently from a Normal? If he weren't wearing the thrice-damned collar, they wouldn't even know he was a magic-user. In the pavilion, Heero was once again halfway through dressing. This time Duo set the bowl down and poured the water into the basin without pause. Then he carefully reached out with his magical senses. He didn't know how to simply heat water, so he created a flame right in the water. Fire was the easiest form of magic to master. The flame had burned for a split second when the restriction slammed down on him, this time blocking him from his magic completely. It was so sudden he cried out, staggering back and clutching his head at the burst of hot pain. Panting, he stared up at Heero in startled alarm, wondering how the Black Prince had done that. "What are you doing?" Heero demanded icily. "He-heating the water," Duo replied, swallowing and lowering his hands. "Don't use magic without my permission," the prince snapped, turning his back on Duo to wash his face in the slightly warmed water. For a moment Duo stood there, chest heaving, vision blurring into red tints. He was fairly certain Heero's cruelty was intentional. Barely able to contain his need to inflict bodily harm on the frigid bastard, Duo stalked out of the pavilion. He forced himself to eat the gruel to maintain his strength, because it had rained during the night again. Then he went to the tethered horses and saddled the prince's stallion. The horse turned his head to nudge Duo, and his eyes clearly said, What's wrong? "I hate him," Duo whispered, wrapping an arm around the horse's head and nuzzling his face into the soft fur. He's not so bad. Duo's head jerked up, eyes wide. What . . . that thought was clearly not his own. And the stallion looked at him with calm, understanding eyes. "Was . . . was that you?" The horse simply lowered his head back to his feed basket and munched up the last of his grain. Duo watched him, stroking the sleek neck for a moment. Shaking his head, supposing he was just imagining things, Duo tossed the basket toward the pile of them and offered the stallion the bit. Today he accepted without resistance, and Duo slipped the bridle over his head. Then Duo just admired him. Such a magnificent creature. As he grabbed the rein and headed to the pavilion, the stallion followed him without any prompting at all, keeping his nose at Duo's shoulder and the lead slack. At least someone around here is kind to me, Duo thought wearily. If this was to be the rest of his life, he couldn't imagine lasting very long. The tents were struck and the pavilion away. Duo didn't want to wait for Heero's order to take down his barrier, but with the restriction on him so tightly he couldn't summon even the tiniest spark of magic. Annoyed, Duo heaved himself up into the saddle. The stallion was so tall it was something of a challenge. The horse danced a little at an unfamiliar rider on his back, which had Duo's heart leaping into his throat. Horsemanship had not been taught at the tower. But the black calmed quickly, turning his head back to bump Duo's leg with his nose. Relieved, Duo patted his neck. Heero moved alongside the stallion, not even glancing at Duo as he swung himself into the saddle. A second later the restriction lifted, and Duo instantly removed his barrier before Heero could do little more than open his mouth. There, he thought savagely. Can't snap at me now, can you? Removing the spell was slightly easier this time than yesterday, which he took as a hopeful sign. Hopefully he would get used to using magic quickly. As soon as the train set out, Duo again acted without giving Heero the chance to tell him so. He quested out for the first stretch of road and set about solidifying it. By the time Heero's and Zechs' horses reached it, the dirt was hard-packed. Not so much as a whisper of approval from Heero. The day passed much as yesterday, with one added bonus, Duo thought sourly. The rain kept up all day. It was little more than a chilly drizzle, but by evening Duo was frozen to the marrow of his bones. He was not used to using magic so much for such a long period of time, so when night fell and the train finally stopped, Duo felt worse than the night before. More than a headache plagued him tonight. He was nauseous, too, and he was certain if he had to walk he would fall on his face and vomit right there. Heero slid off his horse as soon as the train stopped, but Duo stayed in the saddle. The huge stallion nuzzled its master, and to Duo's faint surprise Heero actually stroked its nose. He'd been half expecting the man to shove the animal away. The camp was up in its usual timely manner, by which time Duo was nearly asleep sitting up. "The barrier," Heero snapped, startling Duo. He barely had the energy to spell the shimmering barrier into life around the firewood. Then arms were around his waist, pulling him to the ground. Instead of finding his balance, he just kept falling. His vision darkened alarmingly, and he vomited painfully. Through the haze he still noticed how close he came to wretching all over Heero's boots, and he was insanely grateful he missed. Waves of nausea broke through him, and he vomited until nothing would come up except saliva and acid. He knew in that instant he would not make it to the bed. With the last of his cognizant energy he managed to push himself sideways so that when he blacked out it was on Heero's feet and not face-first in bile. o8o o8o "Duo, what in Cestera's name are you doing, sweetling?" Evala Maxwell is a plump, short woman with apple cheeks and dark round eyes. She reminds Duo of the world's most comfy pillow. She is his guardian, his playmate, his co-conspirator. She is his mother. "Shh, Mama!" Duo whispers fiercely. "I'm hiding from Da!" His mama crouches down in front of him, holding a finger to her lips. "I see. In that case, I have an even better place for you to hide!" Yesterday, he was sick. He can't remember ever feeling so miserable. Sick and weak, he lays in bed all day throwing up and hot and cold by turns. His mama stays by the bedside almost all day, bringing him soup and juice, encouraging him to eat and rubbing his back while he throws it back up. He lays down, hurting so much he wants to sleep for a year. His mama uses a cool cloth to bathe his hot face, and it feels good, enticing him down into slumber. "Sleep, my sweetling," she whispers in his ear. "You'll feel better tomorrow." Ugh, I feel sick, Mama. My stomach hurts, 'cos I kept throwing up. I don't like being sick. "Hush, Duo. You'll feel better tomorrow." It hurts, Mama . . . "I know. I'm sorry, Duo. Shh, just rest now . . ." That's not Mama's voice . . . From beneath disorienting layers of smothering sleep, Duo felt a soft, soft cloth dragging over the heated skin of his face and neck. The movements were careful and tender, soothing him into relaxing. Who . . . ? "Go back to sleep, Duo," the same voice whispered in his ear. The wash of warm air enticed his senses, lulling him into a strange sense of total security. When was the last time he felt safe? Since he was seven, being held in his mother's arms? Riding on his father's shoulders? He could feel an arm around him, supporting him, keeping him close to a warm, hard body. It felt right. It felt good. He drifted further away. But who . . . ? Who would treat a sorcerer so gently? With such care? Who would care if a sorcerer was sick, in pain, or even died? It required monumental effort, but he managed to lever open sticky eyelids. Cool, clear cobalt blue gazed down at him. Such a gentle look in those eyes. Surely he must be dreaming . . . Cobalt chased him back into peaceful sleep. o8o o8o It was Heero rising from bed that woke Duo, this time. For awhile he couldn't marshall his thoughts into any coherent order. What had happened last night? He couldn't remember going to bed. After a bit it came to him, and his face heated in embarrassment. He'd puked, then passed out on Heero's feet. Fine impression he'd made on the man who already seemed to consider him next to worthless. His head was pounding, but he thought it was caused more by hunger than anything else. "If you're awake, get up," Heero's voice snapped. "Think you it's fine to laze about in bed all day?" Starting, Duo scrambled to obey. His mortification was replaced by anger. Such a kind, caring master. Not so much as a, Are you feeling all right today, Duo? I know you were pretty sick last night. Dressing, he all but bolted out of the tent for the cooking fire. He was almost there when he slowed, mind finally coming fully awake. He'd had a strange dream last night. Images of his mother. He wondered if Evala was all right, if she was even still alive. Most of his memories of her were hazed and distant, but he clearly remembered how much he'd loved her. And how much she'd wept when the Silent Order came for him. She'd tried to hide his magical talent when first it manifested. Then he remembered the rest of the dream. He briefly closed his eyes against it. Heero, speaking to him in such a gentle, concerned voice. The soothing motions of his hand. The tenderness in his blue eyes. In the waking light it was almost comical. Sure. I'm sure Heero cares what happens to me. About what he cares if his sword is chipped. To his surprise, when he reached the cooking fire, Zechs looked at him with a polite expression. "We'll only be riding about half the day," he said to Duo. "His Highness plans to stop at the city Tryne, to stock up on supplies and give the soldiers a decent night's rest. I suspect he'll also purchase some decent travel clothes for you." He gave Duo's simple garb an openly distasteful look. The thought did not appeal to Duo. He tried to be reasonable about it. It's sensible. I only have this set of clothes. If I wear the same thing every day I will start to smell, and I don't want to offend my master's oh-so-delicate sensibilities. He scowled to himself. In the pavilion, he set down the bowl of gruel and poured the water into the basin. "May I heat it for you?" he asked the prince in the most civil voice he could summon. Icy blue eyes met his. No, he decided right then. Last night had been a dream. Heero would never treat him gently. Not this cold, soulless beast. "When we return home to Corai," he said, a hint of warning in his tone, "I expect you to address me as 'Master.'" It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to throw the basin right at Heero's frozen face. "Yes, Master," he all but spat. "May I heat the water for you?" Cobalt locked with indigo, and had any other witnessed the silent exchange between prince and sorcerer they might have fainted. Duo's expression was fiery, eyes burning. But Heero's expression was glacial, eyes frozen. The contrast was dramatic. "Heat it," Heero ordered, rolling up some maps on the table. Glaring daggers at the back of his head, Duo poured energy down into the basin. The water started boiling. Hissing under his breath, Duo wished he dared leave it that way and cooled it to something more temperate. Then he realized how easy it had been. Despite his temper his lips still quirked in a smile. Creating spells was easier when he was angry, eh? That might be worth remembering. It had not rained during the night, but the air was still damp and the roads still a muddy mess. Today, however, he had a respite. A league outside of Tryne, crushed stone abruptly replaced dirt. Duo released his spell and sagged forward in the saddle a little, relieved. Heero's hand snaked up and gripped his chin, almost hard enough to hurt, pushing him back up. "Sit up straight," the man hissed in his ear. Duo almost gave in to the temptation to bite the prince's hand. He fair quivered with it. Tryne was almost as big as the capital. It loomed huge and inviting to Duo as he thought how nice it would be to sleep with a real roof overhead. Heero turned and looked at Zechs. "Take care of my soldiers," he ordered, and with that urged his horse into a sudden gallop. Taken by surprise, Duo was flung back against Heero. A strong arm steadied him. The city gates were standing wide open as Heero rode near, and Duo saw all the tower guards bow deeply as the black stallion slowed to a canter and then a trot. Heero rode through the streets with the confidence of one who'd been here before, and he came to a shop labeled, Silk of the Spider. He privately liked the name and supposed it must be a tailor's shop. Heero smoothly dismounted and pulled Duo down after him, looping his horse's lead around the street bar. Giving Duo a look that was order enough to follow, he strode into the shop. Several girls sat at looms or at tables, busily working on this or that. Most of them looked a year or two older than Duo himself. One of them looked up. "Can we help you, my lord?" "Bring Mistress Arane to me at once," Heero commanded in an insufferably imperious tone. "Don't keep me waiting, girl." His voice made all the other girls look warily at one another as the unfortunate speaker scrambled to obey. Duo was relieved that the mistress came after little more than a handful of seconds. "For heaven's sake, girl," she blustered, "why didn't you tell me it was him waiting! Don't you know this is the Black Prince? All of you, go finish your tasks in the back. All of you, go on!" Every girl blanched the color of sour milk as she bolted out of the main room. Mistress Arane bowed deeply to Heero. "Now, my prince, what can I do for you?" Heero gripped Duo's upper arm and dragged him forward. "Fit my slave with new travel clothes. The road has been cold of late." "So you got yourself a sorcerer, hm? And a Black, too? Well, at least such a dangerous wretch is under your control, Prince Heero. Right where he belongs, safe from harmin' others." Duo bit his tongue. Though it took very little time, the measuring process was akin to torture. The woman, who ordered Duo in a terse tone to undress but for his undergarments, meticulously avoided touching Duo's skin as if it were the vilest poison. She continued muttering cutting remarks under her breath-though loud enough for him to hear-all the while. By the time she was done Duo wanted to scream. If not for this Gridanja-be-damned collar, you wouldn't think I was any different from you! "How much time do I have to make garments for the wretch?" she asked, rolling up her measuring tape. "Until tomorrow evening," Heero replied. "I don't require anything fancy. Just durable until I reach home." He handed her a small velvet purse that clinked with coin. They left then, Duo seething over her attitude. What had magic-users ever done to earn them such revulsion? Heero stopped at a cobbler to have the man make a new pair of boots for Duo, and then he rode to a huge inn called The Wayward Maiden. In short order Heero had a room, and a servant drew hot water for a bath in the deep copper tub. Heero gestured toward it. "Bathe," he ordered tersely, "then come join me. There is something I wish to discuss." His ominous tone sent dread coiling in Duo's gut. Even so, when he closed the door he stripped immediately and used a large iron bucket and sponge to wash away the grim of travel. Once his skin was clean he unraveled his braid, wincing at how tangled the long strands had become. It took some time, but eventually it was clean, and he sank into the hot water with a deep sigh. This was the first time he'd been able to bathe since their journey began. He hated feeling dirty. Especially hated his hair feeling dirty. He lingered as long as he dared, then rose and dried himself with a thick towel. A heavy, clean white robe waited for him, and he belted it around his waist and padded into the main room. A fire crackled cheerfully behind the grate, and Heero sat in a chair staring into the dancing flames. Duo had never seen such a pensive expression on his face. He didn't look up and spoke in a tone that shocked Duo to his core. "Duo, sit." It was a command. But that soft, gentle tone made it a request. Almost a plea. For several disconcerting moments Duo simply stared at him, thrown completely off balance. On shaking legs he walked to the chair opposite Heero and sat, clasping his hands in his lap so they would not tremble. Heero finally looked up from the fire, and all the air left Duo's lungs in a silent gasp. The Black Prince of Corai, feared all the way to the northernmost kingdom of Jangra, looked pained and impossibly worn. Gone was the frozen shield of ice, the frigid mask of arrogance. He looked tired and young and as if he'd endured some terrible hurt. Duo stared at him, unable to reconcile this image with what he knew of the prince. "It's a long journey back to Corai," Heero said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. A few spikes of hair fell over his face, partially obscuring the cold blue of his eyes that gleamed in the firelight. "All I really wanted to say was . . . I'm sorry." Duo thought he was choking. On his heart, on the air in his lungs, on his tongue, on everything. That . . . his eyes . . . they were so sincere, so earnest, so gentle. He looked like a human being. A beautiful, beautiful, hurting human being. Genuine remorse glittered on the surfaces, hinting at terrible pain . . . Swallowing thickly, mind racing too quickly to form a coherent thought let alone a logical one, Duo opened his mouth and closed it again without a sound. Heero rose, and Duo followed him with his eyes. "You deserve so much better than your fate," the prince said softly, now almost too quietly to hear. "I must use you, Duo." He walked toward the door and rested a hand on the knob. "I must use you to break my entire kingdom. I'm going to cause you so much suffering. And . . . I'm sorry for that." And he was gone. Duo stared at the closed door after he'd left, unable
to move for a long, long time.
tbc |
