"Arabian Nights"
Part 12
by Mel
Viggo had pretty much allowed himself to be led back to the palace. He was a little unsteady on his feet, he still could not believe that had really and truly been Sean, even though he would know those wild green eyes anywhere. He was here, and in so much pain, and Karl had not let him catch him. Anger coursed through his veins for a moment, Sean was his best friend, closer then any brother, and he had not been allowed to go up there and catch him?
The anger left quickly, he knew why it had been done. He was a prince, even before he had come here. Showing an active interest in slaves was simply not done. But how he had just wanted to go up there and take him away from it all.
By the time Viggo arrived back at his rooms, dismissing the guard, he had run himself around in circles. Between wishing he had gone to Sean's rescue like a knight in shinning armor and trying to realize what was expected of him in this new role he could have gladly gone too sleep. There was, however, too much daylight left and he knew from past experience, that sleep would elude him tonight. He would just have to wait for Karl to bring Sean to him.
When he entered his courtyard he was surprised to find the place full of women. They were cleaning, one was pouring a soft spicy scent into his fountain, lifting the room with it's delightful smell. They twittered around, moving with such grace that Viggo would have never been able to compete with. They became silent as they realized that Viggo stood there, watching them.
He smiled, their eyes lighting up at the sight. "Thank you." He told them, "this looks much more like a home now."
The women giggled ad dashed around him, silk flying until only one other was left in the room with him.
"You have made a grand impression on the workers of this household my Lord," Liv had that ever present and cheeky smile on her face. "They sing your praises longer and louder with every moment that passes."
Viggo grimaced before coming further into the room, "you know I am not asking for it Liv."
"I know," that smile seemed to get brighter, "that is what makes you so much more endearing. If you are finished with me my Lord-"
"Liv?" The sound of his voice stopped her in her trek across the room. She looked at him, her head falling to the side, the curtain of her dark hair floating down over the silk. "What sort of slaves can I own?"
She looked intrigued by the question. "Most Lords own personal slaves, labor and household slaves come with your inheritance my Prince. Many Lords have there own harems for their personal slaves, both men and women. Why do you ask my Lord? Do you wish to start one?"
He didn't answer, instead asking his second question. "If I were to buy a slave, could I release him?"
Liv managed to look even more interested, though she answered, "not without looking weak. Slaves are slaves among the men you will meet. Though most are treated well nobles believe that acquiring them simply to free them is a sign of weakness. Slaves must earn their freedom. I was once a slave, as was much of Karl's guard. We are loyal because, as our masters we were treated well, and when it came the time we were allowed to become our own while still working for both the Caliph and Karl. It will be much the same with you I would wager, though it is a little early in your stay to be buying slaves."
Viggo smiled. "Thank you Liv," he let the new information wash over him, nodding. "That was all I wanted to know."
********
"He took that much better then I had expected," Karl's voice was soft as the two walked, side-by-side, in the streets of Aqaba, the small entourage of men trailing behind them. "He truly came through the desert a little worse then you did, Princeling."
Viggo nodded, a soft smile dancing along his features. "Sean was always a survivor Karl, he would fight through just about anything. He was always stubborn." There was a soft pause and Viggo ducked his head. "And I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
"You are welcome, Princeling. I am more then happy to take your friend into my service for a time. Until you figure out what you are going to do with him."
Another nod and smile. "I'm glad he was too tired to argue, it will be good for him to rest. And we will have time to buy him clothes."
Karl, who had purchased Viggo's own clothing while he had recovered, led him purposely through the market place. That was until a furious shout near by drew the Prince's attention away from their path.
He was surprise to see young Orlando, one hand cupped to his chest full of bread, the other being held by a heavy set Aqaba merchant. The fury in the bigger man's eyes was obviously what had the younger man trying to struggle free from his hold.
"Karl!" Viggo's voice called softly, bring the captain to his side.
"Oh Orlando," the regret in Karl's voice was rather heavy.
"Is there nothing we can do?"
"No," the defeated word hung between them. "The laws are simple, he will loose his hand for being caught stealing."
"Filthy Thief," the merchant hissed as Orlando tried to pull his hand free of his.
It would not budge, the man held on much too strongly. This was not how he wanted his day to end. He had things he wanted to do with this hand and he was amazingly attached to it. He wanted to be able to use it tomorrow, to hold a meal with it, to slip into a pocket or two. Maybe in his dreams to slip it beneath the robes of a certain man, running over hard planes of flesh. Orlando fought not to loose his carefully maintained calm, but as the big man drew him towards the stall, slamming his arm down, pinning it in place.
This could not be happening. His eyes widened at the sight of the blade that rose in the man's hand. He'd always sworn that would never be him, that he would never get caught, and that it would never loose his hand like so many others had. The blood echoed in his ears, the resound sound making him panic. Please no, the whimper falling from his lips, not now.
"What do you think you are doing?"
The furious voice rose over the pounding blood in his ears and both he and the man with the knife froze. Orlando, brown eyes wide stared as a rather irate looking Prince. He stalked, still in white silk, his hood down and dark hair flowing behind him. He was the most wild, majestic thing Orlando had seen in his whole life and he felt his heart rate accelerate for a completely different reason.
"My Prince," the words were whispered without any participation of Orlando. He had never been so enchanted with one person. The prince ignored him, for that Orlando was glad as those blazing eyes were fixed on the merchant.
"My Lord," the merchant's death grip on Orlando's arm did not slacken and he looked rather confused at this turn of events. "Thieves are punished here by," his eyes sparkled at the thought and Orlando squirmed, "decapitation."
"Thieves yes," the Prince's hand clasped Orlando's shoulder and he found himself leaning into the touch. What was wrong with him? He had barely known this incredible man a day and he was already singing his praises. "But not personal slaves."
The merchant seemed almost as awe struck as Orlando did, except the dark haired man was better at hiding it. That and the fact that the Prince's hand moved from his shoulder, the knuckles grazing the flesh of his cheeks. And, damn it all, Orlando found himself leaning into it, letting the light touch become a caress. The Prince continued to stare at the merchant, who was spluttering, and Orlando allowed his eyes to drift close.
"Kindly let him go." The merchant seemed to pause just a little too long for the Prince. "Now!"
He dropped the hand as if it were a snake and Orlando let it fall to his side, exposing his neck to the Prince as the fingers ran down the side of his throat, the curve of his shoulder and gliding down until his fingers interlaced with Orlando's. He opened those eyes, staring at their linked fingers, his own bronze and the prince' s pale. And those fine fingers took his chin lightly, lifting it up, until they were swimming in heavy blue eyes.
And they were the last thing Orlando saw before soft lips descended down onto his, sucking the very soul out of his body. Orlando found himself boneless, melting into the touch, the feel the very life of this man above him. He was falling, falling so incredibly fast that the loaf of bread left his hand without a care, twining into the long locks above him, kneading the scalp.
The need to breathe soon became apparent as the Prince pulled back, Orlando's soft gasp fell sweetly, mingling in the air around them. The Prince's possessive purr went straight to Orlando's groin and he could only find the energy to smile cheekily at the man above him, his tongue ghosting against his lips as he pressed his body flush against the Prince's. He was no stranger to the effect his body had on men and women and he was more then willing to see what the other man would do about it.
It didn't take long for the Prince to react and his arms caught him up, cradling Orlando to his chest. Orlando could not have been more surprised. He never felt this cherished, this wanted and this man barely knew him.
The Prince was walking out of the crowd that parted before him. Orlando wrapped his arms securely around his neck, burrowing deeper into his hold. He noticed Karl ahead, arms crossed over his chest though his smile seemed to warring between relief, warmth and, strangely enough, lust.
"Would you pay this gentleman for the bread Karl? I will see you back at the palace," the Prince's voice was heavy with passion, making Orlando squirm.
"Of course my Lord Viggo. It is a good thing Sean is resting in my rooms," Karl sounded amused as they passed. "Do not get your fingers burnt."
"Oh do not worry Karl," he purred, "I am the one doing the burning." And somehow his lips managed to capture Orlando's again whilst he was still moving. Orlando clung even tighter to him, loosing himself in the amazing touch. He longed to touch him, run his fingers over the expanse of pale Northern flesh that he knew would be beneath the silk, but was content for now to let the kiss overwhelm him. Their lips danced against each other, tongues teasing. He hoped the palace was not too far away.
He felt rather the saw the change as they moved inside as he was still snuggled up to his Lord's chest. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins had faded, leaving him completely drained. He did not even have the energy to wonder when he had started to think of the man holding him as his own. Instead Orlando let one of his hands glide down from around his Prince's neck, letting it snake between the layers of silk, brushing it against a pebbling nipple, listening to his replying gasp. The pace quickened as Orlando's lips found the racing pulse in his throat.
Sweet shade sheltered them from the sun and Orlando finally allowed his eyes to peek out around them. The Palace was truly a place of wonder, though they were in a shaded hallway Orlando could see they passed rooms of wonder he might never see again in all his life. Unless he truly wanted to keep him as his personal slave. At the moment Orlando rather enjoyed the idea.
The Prince turned suddenly and Orlando looked around the open courtyard in wonder. At the fountain in the middle, the vines hanging from the walls and the heavy scent of incense in the air. They did not stay here for long and the Prince was moving quickly through the beaded archway on the left. And Orlando's eyes almost fell out of his head.
The room was closed off to the outside world and amazingly cool for its large space. And yet it glowed with the flickering of a thousand candles in alcoves in the stonewalls. Cushions were strewn around the room, silk and fur blankets scattered with them. The pallet in the center of the room was large enough to sleep five people comfortably, and ten intimately, covered with rich dark silks and thick furs.
It was here that the Prince threw his body, surprising Orlando with the harsh action. He landed in the middle of it, his body sinking in the softness of it all. Orlando barely had time to scurry up the bed as the Prince, with panther like grace, was upon him, his large warrior body tenting over top of him. His hands were either side of Orlando's head and for the first time Orlando realized, that if he were to suddenly to turn violent, Orlando would not be able to fight against this man who was a trained warrior. His form shuddered as a tremor of fear flew through him.
And then the long hair that had obscured his face from Orlando's view parted and he could see the pain, worry and gut wrenching fear in his blue eyes.
"What if I had not been able to help you?" So much raw emotion filled that simple question, making his voice deep and husky, breaking Orlando's calm and heart all at once. His hands threaded themselves in the hair at his scalp, pulling his face down to him. "What if I had not been there?" the anguish breathed against his lips.
"But you were there, my Shining Prince," Orlando whispered, teasingly close. "And I am not leaving your side anytime soon."
"No," the voice turned firm and the sparkle returned to the eyes, "you most certainly are not." And then he pressed his mouth down into his, sinking into the Orlando, letting the hands make quick work of the silk that shrouded him.
Orlando made soft cooing noises at the sight of the blistered skin of the Prince's arms that were bared to him. "You truly did fight the Au Nafud, my Lord?"
He hissed lightly, "make me forget my pain?"
Orlando's smile chased away the remaining ghosts in his eyes. "My pleasure, my Prince." His body squirming and slipping out from beneath his hold. He groaned above him as those full, smirking lips wrapped around his already weeping arousal. The breath screamed out of his body, leaving his body trembling as Orlando's tongue swirled, taking him deeper into his throat.
"Orlando," he whimpered, eyes closing in bliss and he allowed the hands to press him down into the soft bedding. Hands eased themselves around Orlando's scalp, not pushing but gently urging him further down. Orlando happily obliged, his throat opening, taking the cock as far as he could, his noes brushing against the stomach.
The soft whimpers became steady moans as his fingers with slight nails grazed against the sensitive flesh of his balls. Teeth scrapped lightly against him, causing the prince to howl as he took him deep again, sucking hard. His name became a prayer on the Prince's lips and he let his tongue run against the underside of the cock in his mouth.
He could feel him coming close and dug his nails into the soft skin of his thighs bringing him screaming over the edge, the sound ending in a moan. Orlando swallowed his essence, milking him of it, rolling the taste around his mouth before licking his lips and easing back up the prince's body.
The man's eyes were half lidded and Orlando could tell he was struggling to stay awake, to please him. Orlando was touched but battered the hands away that tried to touch him. Instead he snuggled up to his chest, allowing the arms to cocoon him.
"Sleep now, my Prince, there will be plenty of time for that when you are rested," Orlando whispered, his fingers brushing back a strand of his hair.
He nodded softly, eyes giving in to their need to rest, "and my name is Viggo, please."
Orlando smiled, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss to his forehead, "very well my Lord Viggo, now sleep." And he did, his arms curled around Orlando and the sound of his gentle breathing lulling the street kitten to his own rest.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Mel
go to PART 13