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"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 "
Corai and Her People Duo obeyed Heero's wishes as they traveled from Lark to Penniar and finally to Corai. To Duo's eyes, it was obvious when they passed into Corai. The land itself seemed harsher and darker, as though deeply affected by the evil that had taken root in her capital. The chill in the air seemed more oppressive. Yet, Duo was extremely grateful they had reached the borders. He'd had enough travel to last a lifetime. It had taken almost two months to reach the kingdom from Navrane. During which, he thought sourly, he'd had no private time with Heero. He longed for those short, stolen moments when he could see the man as he really was, beautiful and hurting and human. Then Heero reached out to him with gentle kindness, and Duo had begun to desperately crave those moments. He could not remember the last time someone had treated him gently, not since he was a very small boy. But in accordance with Heero's wishes, he found some respite. He didn't bother curtailing his tongue anymore with the soldiers, allowing his scorn to show and to sharpen his tone and words. He let them know he found them just as loathsome as they found him-perhaps more so. The only person to whom he remained civil was Zechs Marquise, because the man remained civil with him. Not friendly, exactly, but civil. As Heero promised, the soldiers were too afraid of their Black Prince to whine to him about Duo's barbed insults. Or to physically punish his slave. Duo could often see the threat of violence in their eyes, but then they considered this. How would they explain to Heero they'd damaged his exorbitantly expensive weapon? It gave Duo savage delight to bait them, only to shrink into dark submission when Heero appeared. Needless to say, by the time they reached Corai Duo was mentally and physically exhausted. It had been a few weeks since they last stopped in a city, so Heero had kept up his cold, cruel treatment. By the time they reached the first cities, Duo wanted to cry with relief. When they reached the capital Cera, it was all he could do not to break down. Huge and dark and oppressive, the capital loomed over the caravan as it entered the streets. The people moved about with single-minded purpose, barely pausing to greet one another or exchange pleasantries. To Duo, it seemed cheerless and depressing and far too quiet. He could hear the rustle of cloth and the shifting of animals, the wind, and other sounds. But the people hardly spoke to one another. It was enough to set his teeth on edge. What was wrong with this place? Then someone noticed Heero's banner. In an eyeblink the transformation happened. Suddenly people were noisily clamoring, cheering their prince and shouting greeting. How could they not notice Duo? He was the subject of jeers and rude catcalls. For his part, Heero ignored them as though they didn't exist. Duo wondered why the fool people didn't notice and take extreme offense. It wasn't a studious ignoring, either. It was more as though they were so unimportant they didn't even register to Heero. As visually unappealing as the city was, the royal castle was even worse. It was larger than the surrounding buildings, which drew attention to its severe planes and angles. It was intensely ugly, harsh blocky architecture that didn't even try to look inviting. The portcullis and gates drew open at their approach, heralded by the clear ringing of horns. Into the enormous courtyard they rode, and Duo got his first glimpse of his new permanent home. He realized he felt sick with anticipation, and for more reasons than one. He would be meeting the Council soon. Heero's father. The other nobles. And soon, he and Heero would once again be alone. Behind solid walls and barred doors. Heero slid down off his beautiful black stallion, pulling Duo down with him. "Zechs," he snapped, "take him to my chambers. I'll introduce him to the courts and the Council, but on my terms. Don't speak to so much as a servant on your way, either." "Yes, my Prince," Zechs said, bowing. Duo felt his heart sink. So he and Heero wouldn't be alone together for a time, yet. He wordlessly followed Zechs, making sure his disappointment didn't show on his face. As Zechs led him through the austere halls, he garnered curious looks from every quarter. Zechs brushed past them all, carrying on to the west wing of the castle. Into a wide chamber that looked like it should have been a comfortable sitting room. Then into a huge bedchamber. Heero's chambers were stark and functional, the soldier in him obviously too pragmatic for any decoration. Not a single tapestry adorned the walls, nor rug the floor. Zechs glanced around briefly. "I'll have a servant bring up your belongings and leave them in the sitting room. Remember what your master said, and speak to no one." And he was gone. Feeling despondent, Duo looked around. The huge bed had heavy velvet curtains surrounding it, for which Duo was grateful. They were an ugly charcoal gray in color, though, which only added to the oppressiveness of the room. A large oaken desk stood in the corner, all sharp planes and corners. Its chair didn't have a single cushion. However, Duo noticed a wide basket with a plush pillow on the floor in the corner. He immediately perked up. That looked like a dog bed. Did Heero have a favorite hound? He hoped so. A dog wouldn't care that he was a sorcerer. Other than some books, parchment, and a few plain paperweights, there was nothing on the desk. A little rummaging yielded several candles, and Duo lit them, placing them in the wall sconces. It helped the slightest bit. He also managed to build a small fire in the cold hearth, though it wouldn't last long. There wasn't much firewood. There were no windows, the bed's covers were dark gray, and there were no colors to break up the gray of the walls. It was an intensely ugly and depressing room. If Heero would allow, that would the the first thing to change. Blue or green curtains for the bed, and a matching quilt. Tapestries for the walls, rugs for the floor. Maybe a plush chair, perhaps a few tables with silk flowers. Anything Heero would allow he would change. It was the least the Black Prince could do for him. It was a few hours yet before Heero came. At some point a servant brought his few belongings, which included a dozen outfits. Duo waited until the servant had gone to retrieve them and give them a home in the wardrobe-which was mostly empty. He heard the outer door open, and he recognized Heero's purposeful stride. Moments later the man entered the room, face a thundercloud. Duo jumped up from the edge of the bed, the beginnings of a smile teasing his lips. "Go draw me a bath," Heero ordered tersely. "In the future, remember on your own." Duo swallowed his greeting, stung. "Wha-" he began. Heero shook his head, and Duo noticed the tension in his eyes. The prince pointed to his ear, then looked significantly around the room. A moment later Duo realized what worried him. Scrying. Clenching his teeth, bitterly disappointed and angry at foes he couldn't see, he headed for the door. "Yes, Master," he muttered. "Duo." A clear warning. He threw Heero a look. "This is the last time you speak to me with such disrespect." Then he moved. He stayed in the same spot, physically. But inside Duo's head, it felt like Heero moved. He couldn't explain it better than that. It startled him so much he cried out, almost falling to his knees. Panting out several breaths, he looked up at the prince in amazement. It hadn't hurt. It felt more like being doused with freezing cold water. Unexpected. Jarring. And when he met Heero's eyes, his breath caught for all different reasons. The tiniest, barest whisper of a smile hovered on Heero's lips. It was starkly out of place with his voice when he said, "Do you understand me?" in a frigid tone. Is he teasing me? Duo thought, trying to calm his pounding heart. "Y-yes, Master," he stammered, hoping he sounded appropriately cowed. He suspected that whole thing was merely to elicit a reaction that sounded pained-without, of course, actually hurting Duo. "Good. Now draw me a bath." For some reason, Duo couldn't keep the grin off his face as he obeyed. When Heero finished bathing, Duo took the chance to snare a bath for himself. It felt wonderful. Then, feeling apprehensive, he went back to the bedchamber. Someone had brought more firewood, so the fire was bigger and more cheery now. Duo timidly approached the bed, where Heero sat staring into the fire. The prince gave him a short, deeply pained look before going back to his fire-gazing. Moving slowly, Duo climbed onto the bed and laid down, resting his head on Heero's thigh. To his relief, Heero didn't push him away. He dropped his hand to rest on Duo's head, threading his fingers into his hair. The slight tugs sent warm tingles from his scalp down his spine, and he closed his eyes with a faint sigh. I don't want to share you with them. That Council. I want them gone, because then you'd treat me this gently all the time. That was, he reflected dimly, all he wanted. o8o o8o The restless shifting beside him eventually drove Heero awake. Gazing at the bed canopy for a few moments, his inner clock told him it was about an hour past dawn. The light from the candles sent shadows flickering over the curtains, and he turned his head to look at Duo. His face was drawn and closed in sleep, as though his dreams weren't particularly pleasant. The first time Heero had seen Duo, it felt like his stomach had bottomed out. This poor, poor boy would be condemned to the worst fate. At sixteen, Duo's life would take a turn for the worse, and Heero didn't know if it would ever get any better. He'd been fully prepared that his sorcerer slave would never know who he really was. When he saw Duo, a beautiful boy with so much hurt, anger, and pain in his eyes, he couldn't stop himself from comforting him. From showing him enough to give him hope. Heero prayed it wasn't false hope. That one day, he could make Duo's life better. Leaning forward, he put his lips as close to Duo's ear as possible without touching him. "I promise you, I will try my best," he breathed. He would like to see this beautiful face lit up in genuine happiness. To see an unguarded smile. Hear unhesitant laughter. Things he'd been denied from the moment of his birth. Rising, he slipped from bed and dressed in something elegant-yet-simple. Careful not to wake Duo as he left, he made his way to the kitchens for a quick breakfast. The head cook smiled at him, but she was not alone so Heero gave her a blank, cool look in return. Sitting at one of the benches as casual as a castle guard, was one of the Council of Nine. Relena Darlian Peacecraft was a woman of twenty-nine years. Raised by a fanatic priest, she had become an acolyte of the Temple of Relwan. In an ironic twist, she had abandoned the church and instead joined an occult order loyal to Gridanja. When she was twenty-five she was taken under the wing of Corlanis, then a member of the Council. A year later she took Corlanis' place, and the woman herself disappeared. Like the Queen of Lies, Relena had a slippery tongue. She often said she had taken the mantle of darkness to show people the way to avoid damnation. Like her goddess, Relena's influence in the Council was bested only by her ultimate rival, the voice of Cestera. With fluid grace Relena rose and glided to Heero's side, taking his arm as though she owned him. With a gentle tug she showed him where she wanted him to go, but as always Heero resisted. Relena was one of the few people with whom his front was never false. He loathed the woman. Gridanja's darkness hung about her like a veil of poison. Pulling his arm free, leveling her with a scathing look, he moved past her. "Pack me something quick," he snapped at the cook. "I'm headed into Cera." "So soon after your return?" Relena immediately objected in that impossibly smooth voice of hers. Like a piece of crystal worn into a perfect circle by water and wind. "Surely you need a day or two of little activity to de-stress." Heero poured as much malice into a single glare as he could. He knew from experience it was a lot. Men twice his size and three times his age and experience had quailed before it. "I am not old, I am not a child, and I am certainly not an invalid," he said in measured tones. "My father is expecting a . . . package." He let the hesitation last just long enough to imply the package was not something to make the sickly king well again. "You certainly are none of those things," Relena agreed with a practiced smile. "Pray tell me, rumors have been circulating wildly since you left Navrane. Did you find a slave to your liking, and did you actually purchase one?" Pleased to hold something over her head, Heero snorted with contempt. "A woman who parades herself as a lady of standing ought not to bog herself down in gossip," he sneered, taking the basket the head cook handed him and sweeping past Relena. He gave her no more than that. Outside, the sun shown down cheerfully, but Heero had always thought its wan light did nothing more than illuminate the ugliness of the castle and the surrounding city. It was more depressing than rain-soaked gray skies. Heading straight for the stables, he stalked past the stableboys who leaped out of his way. In moments the stablemaster found him. He was a great hulk of a man, but Heero had seen him treat his beasts with a gentle hand he never showed his human charges. He deeply respected the man, and he let just the slightest hint of it shine through. "Highness," the man said gruffly. "I were not made aware of your comin'. Shall I saddle yourn beast?" "I'll do it myself, Rashid," Heero said, shaking his head. "But where is Frost? I haven't seen her in months." "Ah, she'll be mindless pleased yore home, Prince. When you git home from yer business, come see 'er awhile and take 'er with you back up to yer chambers." No other person would dare phrase something to Heero as a near-order. To Rashid he merely nodded, shouldering past the man to the stalls. There, gleaming and looking as fit as ever, Dark tossed his head and snorted. Heero dearly loved the magnificent creature. He was the finest stock in Corai, and it was whispered how only Heero had tamed the beast. As a colt he'd been deemed untrainable. But under Heero's steady hand he quickly became tractable and ready to work. Please and obey, never. Heero had not tamed him. Merely asked him to be partner. Friend. Quickly saddling Dark, Heero ate his breakfast and left the basket for the stableboys to find later. To the saddle he secured two fine blades. The twin shortswords had been polished until they shone, and they were plain though of the finest craftsmenship. To his back Heero strapped his signature weapons. The criss-crossing sheaths held two long bastard swords. The tops of the blades-near the hilts-had been stamped with a rearing stag. The muscular animal had an enormous rack, each tip looking wickedly sharp. The rearing stag was the mark of a swordmaster. Heero, trained with a blade since five, was the finest swordsman in Corai. Perhaps anywhere. Up into Dark's saddle he swung, and without further prompting the stallion surged out of the stall and stables. His hooves rang on the cobblestone, and the guardsman at the gate scurried to get out of their prince's way. The Council of Nine would more than likely send an 'honor guard' after him when they realized what he'd done. Their audacity would never cease to amaze him. Into Cera, he slowed Dark to a trot and headed down a familiar path to a partially hidden shop. The front made it look like an herb shop, but the eccentric owner also sold other things. And it was from him Heero bought the herbs to make the poisons he fed his father. Patting Dark's neck, he walked in. The little bell over the door heralded his arrival, and Heero bit back a distasteful grimace at the general state of the shop. It was dusty and disorganized, as though the owner didn't care how his wares were viewed (which he didn't). Adding to an air of oddness was an extremely fluffy orange-and-black cat. The pudgy critter sat on the counter and blinked owlishly at him. "Be with you in a moment," rattled somewhere from the back. "A moment's not good enough," Heero said with a faint smile. A few crashes later, the disheveled owner bustled up to the counter. "Prince!" he said in his reedy voice. "Now, I was wondering where you'd gotten your self to. It's been a month or more." "More than three," Heero corrected. "I'll take my usual bundle, and I'm looking for something else this time." "Anything I have is yours for the buying," the man said, reaching over to his cat, "including this furball." The cat hissed at him. "Do you have any kind of enchanted item that would allow a person to scry?" Heero asked. "One or two, though they're considered contraband," the owner said, nodding and scratching at his scraggly beard. "You won't arrest me if I sell it to you, will you?" He cackled. "I'll arrest you if you don't," Heero replied a little tartly. "I'm in a bit of a hurry." "Always hasty, the very young," the man said, beginning to browse through his herbs for the select few he always sold Heero. "I have either a small dagger or a small mirror. The mirror is the far superior of the two. It allows the user to watch their target as well as listen." Hence why Heero kept no mirrors in his bedchamber. "I'll take it. Were you visited by anyone while I was away?" "Yes, just like you said I would," the man murmured absently. "Nightflower . . . where are you, my toxic little friend? Ah, here. Yes, I was visited by a charming lass who politely inquired if it was true her prince shopped here for herbs. I kindly told her it was quite true, that her prince was one of my best customers. And perhaps the only reason I was still in business. She sighed and got a little moony on me, telling me she thought her prince was devilishly handsome." Heero resisted the urge to snort. "Did you tell her what I usually purchased?" "Only two of the five herbs. Sangerroot and thornflower berries. They're a bit more common as poison ingredients go, and by themselves either could be enough to eventually kill a man, though neither of them could cause your father's symptoms. At the very least, it was food for thought. And incidentally, those two herbs are often used to spice up certain delicacies from Lark and Dobraia. When paired with either parsnip or thyme, both of them become almost harmless. And they leave the most delicious aftertaste." This man, Heero thought with an inward smirk, would have made an excellent noble or spy. Espionage may as well have been his middle name. "I had no idea," he remarked. "Ah, nightflower. My most deadly little charmer. I believe it is also contraband. You won't arrest me, will you?" This was their usual banter. Heero shook his head. "Of course not." "By the by, some interesting piece of gossip preceded you back to Cera. Rumor has it you traveled all the way to Navrane to buy yourself a fancy new weapon. Now really, I thought to myself. Why would our prince go all the way to Navrane to buy a weapon when he could find perfectly decent ones here?" Heero allowed his eyes to wander over the shelves. "A reasonable question," he conceded. "Must have been a remarkable weapon." "Indeed," the man agreed. "What color was it?" Heero didn't look at him. "Black." An absent nod. "A fine color. All right, your package is prepared, my Prince. Remember, as always, not to get nightflower on your naked skin. And if perchance you do, treat it at once with the sangerroot." Heero paid him his usual price for the package of herbs, plus a slight high price for the small silver mirror. It was pennies to Heero, really, so he barely paid it a mind as he stowed his purchases in Dark's saddle bags. Then he rode back into the streets. No one could mistake their prince, and though they gathered to watch him, they scampered out of his way. Heero had a reputation for simply trampling people who got in his way. After all, why would the Black Prince go around anyone? In the streets, his 'honor guard' caught up with him. They looked winded, and their horses were breathing a little hard. Beyond annoyed, Heero reined Dark to a stop and unleashed the full power of his cold-eyed glare on the man in the lead. "Prince," the man said, managing to sound composed. "I apologize, we were not aware you planned to leave for the city-" "You were not informed," Heero snapped, well aware of the watching folk. "Do I look a man who needs a babysitter, Captain?" The man blanched. This was not one of Heero's hand-picked soldiers. He was a royal guard chosen by the Council of Nine. A worthless, soft fool who wouldn't last a day in real combat. "N-no, Your Highness," he stammered. "Get back to the castle," Heero said in a deathly still voice. "If I'd had need of you, I would have brought you myself." A hesitation. "But Your Highness, we were told-" Heero reached for one of his two bastard swords. "Get out of my way, worthless wretch, or I will slice you to ribbons right here on the street. Obey me!" Their nerve, such as it was, deserted them. Visibly swallowing, the man wheeled his horse around and signaled his men to follow him. Heero released the sword, pulling back on Dark's lead so the stallion reared up with a displeased cry. His hooves pounded back down on cobblestone with an ominous ring. Heero's eyes flashed around to the gawking commoners. "And what are you pathetic lot staring at?" he snarled. "Think you this is a circus performance? Get back to work!" Dark tossed his head and snorted in perfect timing for emphasis. With a sudden flurry of movement the peasants leaped to obey. Heero gave Dark his head and the stallion leaped into an abrupt gallop, knocking several slower folk out of his way. Heero hoped none of them were injured, but he was pleased with the visual reminder that he was not the Council of Nine's lapdog. The watching folk would not soon forget their prince's wrath. Perhaps he should have challenged that cowardly guard? He snorted under his breath. Next time, perhaps. And he was not naive enough to think there would not be a next time. o8o o8o Duo, who'd had no human contact for the entire day, was relieved when Heero returned. There was no daylight in this room so it was hard to tell, but his inner clock told him it was growing late. The man's expression was gentle when it landed on Duo. His tone, predictably, was harsh when he snapped, "A servant left dinner outside for us. Go get it, then I have something to discuss." His soft eyes gave Duo strength as he moved to obey. When the tray was set down and dinner served to the prince, Heero rummaged into his saddlebag. He held up a small silver mirror. "This is an enchanted device used for scrying," he said, tone still harsh and cold. "Use it to learn to ward against both eavesdroppers and watchers." Duo eagerly took it from him. If Heero wasn't worried about listeners, he would have need to treat Duo so harshly. "Yes, Master," he acquiesced. The moment his hand touched the mirror, a tingle shot straight down his spine. Yes, it was definitely enchanted. He always felt that tingle when he encountered his own magic. "I don't think it will take long." "It better not," Heero warned. "For every day you make me wait, I will punish you." Duo stuck his tongue out at him. To his shock, a slow smile curved Heero's lips upward. It was shockingly beautiful, and Duo realized he'd never actually seen Heero smile. I want that. All the time. That's how I want him to look at me. Freely and uninhindered. It was a kind, warm smile full of gentle benevolence. No fear, no revulsion, no loathing because of the thrice-damned collar around his neck. He managed to summon a little quiver as he replied, "Y-yes, Master." Heero winked at him, and it was all he could do not
to burst into giggles.
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