"Arabian Nights"
Part 58
by Beryll
It hurt. It hurt like hell.
Not so much the bodily pain as the fact that Jared had no one to blame for it but himself.
'Always be prepared to serve a costumer!' That had been one the first lessons drilled into him right after he had been captured and put to work on the street. And his master had made sure to drive the point home by taking him dry, again and again, till he had learned to never forget to prepare himself.
The peace and quiet of the palace, the kindness of the Prince's boys, the treacherous feeling of safety had made him forget. It had made him feel as if he was more than a whore to be used. And now he had paid the price - fucked till he bled.
That was what hurt so much, Jared told himself. Just his own stupidity. Not the fact that he felt raped, he had endured so much worse without even flinching. He had let his guard down and this was what he got for it, this was what he deserved.
Still he somehow couldn't pick himself. He just couldn't uncurl from where he was still lying on the floor, pull up his pantaloons and get on with life. He felt as if something precious in his heart had been damaged. Felt the disgusted hatred in the voice of the man who had used him echo in his mind over and over again.
Slut. Whore. Bitch.
The Captain was right. He was all that. His mind had screamed for him to run. To run and hide from what he knew was coming. Still he had stood transfixed, unable to move. He had let it happen, had even invited it in the foolish hope that he wouldn't be hurt if he obeyed.
He didn't move when he heard footsteps. He was sure it would be the Captain, returning, ready to kick him for not having disappeared yet, but he just couldn't make himself move.
Only when he heard a soft gasp and then a voice that was so much softer and carried a foreign lilt that was alien as well as dear to Jared, did he realize it was not the Captain.
"Jared... by Thor, what happened to you?"
Moments later he was pulled up and wrapped in strong, protective arms, was crushed against another chest but this time with so much care, so much gentleness that he started crying all over again.
If it had been anybody else Jared would have swallowed his tears, would have pretended he was fine, would have filed this away as another memory to bury. But Sean knew what it was like, Sean had been through this himself, Sean would understand, would know not to look too closely, not to ask. Sean was strong despite everything.
He didn't open his eyes when he was gently picked up and carried a short distance. He just clung to the solid body holding him as though it was his safe rock in a stormy sea. It was so easy to pretend he was strong when there was no one to hang on to. But now wave after wave of nausea rolled over him, making him realize how very numb he had become whoring.
It still hurt and he flinched when Sean gently pulled his pantaloons back up. His heart still hurt, still bled. But somehow it transformed to a good pain, safe in Sean's arms, free to feel the pain, to feel alive, to feel at all. Old wounds opened in his mind, memories he had tried to banish swamped his mind. He let them, allowed himself to cry over all of them, allowed himself to grieve over everything he had lost.
At last his tears ran dry, his heart-wrenching sobs subsiding to deep breathing as the pain slowly lessened.
He was feeling light headed; his body still aching but his heart beating freely, strongly.
With gentle force he extracted himself from Sean's embrace and looked up at him, meeting the stormy green eyes - so full of care and worry - with a small smile.
"Thank you." he whispered, his voice hoarse from crying so much. He wrapped his own arms around the warrior, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much."
Sean blinked at him in surprise, this was obviously not the reaction he had expected, but then he stroked Jared's tear stained cheek gently. "You're welcome, mouse." he answered just as softly.
Jared leaned his brow against Sean's broad chest for another long moment before drawing in another deep breath. A strange calm had spread inside him, and with it came the realization that he was not some numb thing to be used but that there was still life inside him, still a soul to feel the pain.
Thinking back on what had happened just a few minutes ago, how he had stood mute and paralyzed, now seemed alien to him. He should have kicked the Captain in the shin and made a run for it, he realized. The Prince would have protected him. Hell - the kittens would have protected him!
Silently he vowed that it would not happen again.
Sean's voice broke him from his deep thoughts. "What happened, Jared? Who did this?"
A dangerous edge had entered his voice and Jared knew that it would have to find a target, that Sean would not accept denial or lies. He knew that Sean and the Captain were friends. That was the only reason that made him hesitate. What if Sean didn't believe him? What would Sean do if he did believe it? After all he was a slave himself.
He didn't get the chance to devise some clever lie as Sean gently took his chin and tipped up his face so that he had to look into Sean's eyes.
"It was Karl." Sean stated, his voice flat, betraying no emotion. How he had guessed, Jared had no idea but his face must have shown that Sean had guessed rightly as Sean nodded slowly.
"Will you make it back to Viggo's quarters on your own?" Sean asked, his mind clearly intent on other matters. On the Captain, Jared feared.
"Sean, I... he..." Jared looked away, realizing there was no point in lying or trying to convince Sean to let the matter rest. "Be careful." he ended, saying the one thing that really was in his heart and on his mind.
Sean caressed his cheek gently and already Jared found himself leaning into the touch again, his body quickly forgetting what had been forced on it and seeking solace.
"I will be fine, sweet mouse." Sean said, getting up from the divan where he had set Jared down. "Go back to the Prince. I will find you later." Then he turned and left.
Jared watched him go with fear clenching his heart and a feeling of fierce gratitude making him feel giddy. Sean would fight for him, Sean would protect him, Sean would be there. No matter how often he was degraded, used, beaten, raped - there would always be Sean to seek sanctuary with afterwards. There was nothing he couldn't endure with that knowledge firmly embedded in his heart.
---
Sean was furious. As he strode through the long palace corridors people made way for him - be they noble or slave. He didn't even notice them. The cold rage coiling in the pit of his stomach achieved what all the care and gentle healing had not done - his head held high, his shoulders squared, he didn't look like a meek slave anymore, he looked like a predator out for blood and that was exactly what he was.
Being angry was a state of mind he was quite familiar with. There had been enough reasons for anger in his life. The way his Prince was treated by his father, fights with members of Viggo's father's court, arguments, war even - Sean had not led a peaceful life.
But he couldn't remember ever having felt such an icy, seething rage as he felt now. That Jared had been hurt would have been a reason to simply take off the head of whoever was responsible. That KARL had done it hit him on a much deeper level.
He had learned to trust Karl. It had been hard, hard to trust anybody at all, harder to trust Karl who he had [both] hated and desired from the moment he first laid eyes on him, from the moment Karl had stolen that kiss from him right next to the slaver's block.
He had known that Karl was a man of passion, that he not always was in control of his actions. Still he had trusted him. Trusted him to the extent that he had cried in the other warrior's arms and slept in his bed. He had accepted Karl as his friend, his brother. Now he couldn't help but wonder if it could have been him, curled up bleeding on the floor.
He couldn't help but wonder if maybe he should have kept the kittens away from Karl, knowing that he could be dangerous. Especially after the strange reaction Karl had shown when he had first seen Jared. He had planned to corner the Captain about that but there had always been something more important to discuss. To think that he might have been able to prevent this if he had paid more attention made his blood run cold.
'Be careful', Jared had told him. Sean clenched his fists at the thought. Careful... he felt like ripping the Captain's head off. With his bare hands.
In front of the door to Karl's office Sean stopped. He had just walked there, assuming this would be where he would find the other man. The guard at the door looked at him strangely, almost shyly. It took Sean a moment to realize that he must be looking quite intimidating now. If he hadn't been so utterly furious it would have been elating.
"Is the Captain in?" he asked without preamble, his voice flat with suppressed rage.
The guardsman nodded. "Yes, sir." he answered, forgoing any notion of appropriate forms of address.
Sean pushed past him, opening the door and firmly closing it behind himself. What he had to discuss with the Captain was nobody else's business.
He found Karl at his desk, slumped forward, his face buried in his hands. He looked nearly as miserable as Jared had when Sean had found him and for a moment Sean felt pity tug at his heart. But the image of Jared curled up on the floor, bleeding, quickly killed that notion.
"We need to talk." he said coldly.
Karl roused from his stupor slowly, raising his head to look at Sean with such a haunted, terrified expression that, again, Sean could hardly suppress the urge to rush over to him and hug him as protectively as he had held Jared.
But then the expression disappeared from Karl's face as if washed off and a calm, indifferent mask slipped into place as he sat up straighter.
"Really? And what about?" the Captain asked just as coldly.
Sean stepped closer to the desk with the menacing prowl of a predator. "You know bloody well what about!" he hissed, bracing his hands on the desk and leaning forward so that he was right in Karl's face. "How could you do that?"
"The boy?" Karl waved the matter off as if it was just an irritating fly, "Oh come on now, Sean, he's a whore. It's what whores are for."
Sean could hardly believe his ears. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be Karl. This WASN'T the Karl he knew. The urge to slap him hard was nearly overwhelming.
"You raped him!" Sean voice was rising in volume now. "I thought you of all people would know what that does to a man!"
Karl had the nerve to just raise an eyebrow. "But he's not a man, just a little slut. He liked it. Wanted it. Said so himself."
The red haze that had been threatening to drown Sean swept over him like a tidal wave. Liked it. Wanted it. It was too much like the words which had been whispered in his own ear when he was on his knees, bleeding, choking, begging for more so they would stop hurting him.
He moved faster than Karl could react. Faster than he could think.
His fist impacting with Karl's fact felt unbelievably good and to see the other man propelled backwards, blood pouring from his nose, was pure bliss.
It took all of Sean's strength of will not to follow up on the punch, not to beat the living daylights out of Karl. Shaking with rage he stood in front of the desk, fists clenched tightly.
"You will not touch Jared again!" he hissed, his words falling into the silence of the room like icy shards. "And you will stay away from the other kittens or I swear I will tear you limb from limb!"
Then he turned and swept out of the room, unable to stand the other man's presence one second longer.
He didn't hear Karl‘s choked whisper, pleading: "Don't leave me..."
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
go to PART 59