The War Gift - part 5

When the two of them arrived back in Jarek’s suite of rooms to prepare for the luncheon with the king, several folded items were lying on the bed.

“Ah, your clothes,” Jarek stated knowingly.  He put his hand on the small of Cailan’s back and urged him forward.  “Lady Bara said she’d send a couple outfits today.”

Cailan looked with surprise at the items laid out.  The two sets of leggings looked normal enough, although of a thinner material than the ones he’d been borrowing from Jarek.  What shocked him were the three tunics he saw.  One was an elegant yet simple piece of clothing that resembled styles he was used to wearing.  The other two were made of a material that was colored—one blue and one green—but they were sheer!  If he wore them with no other item underneath, he would show more than he covered!

“Lady Bara did an excellent job,” Jarek said approvingly as he lifted one of the sheer shirts.  He seemed to realize Cailan’s silence then, and looked up.  His pleased perception of the clothes shifted to something a bit more neutral.  “What do you think, petling?”

“I…they’re…they’re translucent!” Cailan exclaimed.

“Yes, they are,” Jarek confirmed.

Cailan gave him a horrified look.  “I cannot dress in those!”

Jarek stepped closer and cupped Cailan’s chin in one large hand.  “You will dress however I tell you.  It is within my right to keep you unclothed all the time.  Did you know that?”

If he’d thought on it, he would have known it was true, but the idea of permanent nudity or dressing in those see-through clothes was a difficult thought to handle.  “I…know,” he admitted quietly, his voice dismal.  “Are you going to require that?”

Jarek stared at him hard until Cailan felt the authority flow over him and he dropped his head.  Immediately, Jarek’s hand, which was still on his chin, lifted his face back up.

“No, petling, my young prince.  While there will be occasions you will be required to leave your body open to me, I will keep your nudity to our private times.  However, I will dress you as pleases me, not necessarily you.  I do not expect to quarrel with you over it.  Is that understood?”

Cailan clenched his jaw, already knowing it was the best compromise he would get, but still resenting the idea of going out in public in those sheer shirts.  “Yes,” he answered.

Jarek’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then his hand seemed to move shockingly fast, and Cailan felt a hard smack on his backside.  He gasped, his eyes opening in shock.

“I expect a proper answer,” Jarek told him.

Cailan swallowed, still a bit in shock since he’d never been physically reprimanded by anyone before Leader Jarek.  “Yes, my lord.  I understand.”

“Good.  I’d recommend not walking so close to the line of disrespect, young one.  You won’t always need to cross it before you are chastised.  Getting too close can sometimes be enough to make me bend you over.”

Cailan felt a shiver of alarm run through him.  “It is against the law for you to strike me!” he stated adamantly.

Irritation followed by understanding flowed through Jarek’s eyes.  He shifted slightly so Cailan was pressed up against him and Jarek’s hand cupped his backside.

“I have already struck both your hands and your bottom, petling, and I will do it again when I deem it necessary.  We are both in Cylandrea and not bound by the rules you understood in Arten.”

Cailan shook his head.  “It is not right for a royal to be hit in such a way.  It is disrespectful.  I cannot believe you would allow someone to attack a member of your ruling family.”

“Being disciplined is not the same as being attacked,” Jarek said reasonably.  “An attack is meant to harm.  Discipline is meant to teach.  And yes, at some point in time, every one of the members of my family has faced a lesson in corporal discipline.”

Cailan pulled away from Jarek and the bigger man let him.  “I do not understand this.  It’s not right!”

“It’s not wrong,” Jarek disputed.  “It’s simply different from what you’ve known.”  He sat on the edge of the bed by the folded clothes and looked to where Cailan had begun pacing.  “You are not beneath me, Prince Cailan, but I have said you are under me in certain ways.  Do you remember what they are?”

Cailan crossed his arms as he continued to pace, tempted to say no, but thinking this was not a wise time to push his luck.  “I am under your care…and your authority,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Yes, and a third sibling to those two is discipline.  If you do something foolish, I will show you that I care enough about you to give you a good whipping to make sure you don’t do it again.  And if you act contemptuously to me, I will remind you that authority needs to be respected…sometimes through a sound tanning, and sometimes in other ways.”

Cailan’s pacing slowed and his shoulders hunched, looking defeated.  “My life is truly not my own,” he admitted quietly.

Jarek stood and went to him, silently reminding himself that his concubine had only been with him for two days and was facing a lot of turmoil.  With one hand he stroked down Cailan’s silver hair, while the other wrapped warmly around the smaller man.  “No, it is not, sweet one.  Your life belongs to me now.”  He dipped his face down until his forehead touched Cailan’s.  “I will take care of it.  I promise.”

Cailan felt a tightness in his chest that he didn’t know how to describe.  He was grateful when Jarek released his grasp and took his hand instead. 

“We need to bathe before we dine with my brother,” the bigger man said, thankfully changing the topic.  “Come along, petling.”

*****

After they were washed, Cailan was nervous that his owner would make him wear one of the sheer tunics.  It was with an extremely grateful heart to have Jarek hand him the one tunic that did not fill him with anxiety.

“Thank you, my lord,” he offered humbly, and received a smile of approval and a warm kiss on his lips that sent blood to his lower regions.  He still didn’t understand the physical reaction his master could generate from his body.  It was both pleasant and unnerving.  He blushed when his owner’s eyes caressed his still naked body and the partial erection.

“Lovely,” Jarek murmured as he gently cupped Cailan’s privates in one hand.

Cailan squirmed and felt his erection grow as Jarek tenderly massaged the sensitive area.  “Please…my lord,” he gasped.

Jarek’s chuckle gave away his amusement.  “Please what, my prince?  I don’t know if you want me to continue or cease my touch.”

“I…can’t...” Cailan gasped again, “…see the king…like this.”

“I actually know he won’t mind at all,” Jarek whispered.  “But since it’s not wise to keep him waiting, perhaps I should let you get dressed.”

Cailan avidly nodded his head, although his blushed deepened as he saw that his arousal was clearly outlined in the fitted leggings once he put them on.  He prayed it would go down enough to be unnoticeable by the time they joined King Alaric.  He pulled on the new tunic, pleased with the soft feel and perfect fit of it, and looked to Leader Jarek.

The bigger man had just finished dressing as well and he looked appreciatively at Cailan.  When he held a hand out, the younger man hesitated only a moment before placing his palm in Jarek’s. 

“Sit with me a moment, petling,” Jarek requested.  As he spoke he sat down on one of the room’s chairs and guided Cailan to sit on his knee.  “I need to go over some expectations with you before we dine with my brother.”

Cailan’s stomach immediately twisted as he assumed he wasn’t going to like what would be said.  “What expectations?”  His eyes widened as something occurred to him.  “I’m going to be bound and blindfolded, aren’t I?!”  He squirmed and Jarek tightened his grip to calm him.

“I considered it,” The man said calmly.  “It is quite a normal thing to do with a concubine, but I decided it would not be beneficial for this meal.”  He tangled his hands in Cailan’s hair as he continued talking.  “You know your place and I expect you to sit there obediently.  It is not shameful,” he added as he saw Cailan’s face reveal the disgrace the younger man felt.  “Alaric respects those who are accepting of their place and he does not look down on you any more than I do.  It is also possible his wife, Queen Kesla, will be joining us since she has expressed interest in meeting you.”

“She has?” Cailan questioned in surprise.

Jarek nodded.  “She has, although it will be up to my brother when that meeting will take place.  In any case, there are certain manners that will be expected of you.”

Cailan stiffened in defense.  “I know how to behave,” he stated indignantly.

Jarek patted the smaller man’s knee.  “You know how to behave as a royal son of the house of Arten, but probably not as my honored concubine,” he said pointedly.  “From one royal family to another, we find it appropriate for you to look in our face when you talk with us, so do not feel you have to avoid our eyes or look to the floor.  However, you are not to address the king or queen unless they initiate a question or conversation.”

That actually wasn’t terribly different from formal meals Cailan had experienced growing up.  Being among the youngest of the royals, he was usually expected to keep quiet unless someone spoke to him.  He did have a question though.

“What about you?” he asked. 

“What about me?” Jarek replied.

“Am I allowed to speak with you during the meal?”

Jarek smiled.  “Yes, petling.  You may speak with me freely as long as it is respectful and not interrupting anyone else.”

Cailan relaxed a little.  It felt a little more balanced knowing he could converse with his possessor, especially in a new situation.

“Do you have any other questions?” Jarek asked.  Cailan shook his head.  “All right then.  Let us be off.  Alaric is expecting us shortly.”

Jarek kept hold of his hand as they left the suite.  Their walk through the palace took them down halls and across rooms that Cailan was not familiar with, and he again hoped that Jarek would hold to his promise to show him around.  It was in the eastern wing that Jarek stopped in front of a set of double oak doors and pulled on a string that hung nearby.  A soft gong sounded from inside, and as soon as Jarek heard the tone he opened the doors and led the way into the spacious area. 

King Alaric approached them as they came in, a smile on his handsome face.  “Good timing, brother.  The servants are just setting up our meal.  I decided to let Kesla join us if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Jarek answered, although Cailan was glad his owner had warned him that someone he didn’t know might be in attendance.

Remembering his manners, Cailan bowed courteously to the king, which was slightly awkward to do since Jarek still had a hold of his hand.  Alaric didn’t seem to mind as he lightly touched Cailan’s shoulder, a non-verbal signal that his respect was noted and he could look up.

“Are you recovered from this morning, young prince?” the king asked.  “You showed good form during your sword match, even when you were tiring.”

“Thank you, sire.  Yes, I am recovered.  We rested as suggested after you left.”

“Good lad,” the king stated with approval. 

The gong sounded again and preceded the queen’s arrival by mere seconds.  Cailan noticed she paused for the briefest second until King Alaric held a hand out to her, and then she came to his side willingly.  Her long black hair was elegantly braided and wrapped around her head, and Cailan saw the hue of red within the fashionable style.  He also noticed that the red shimmered in her hair like the silver did in that of the two royal brothers.  He reminded himself once again to ask Jarek about that.  Hair color may not have the same meaning in Cylandrea as it did in Arten, but Cailan still wondered if it didn’t represent something.

Something else he noted was how slim Alaric’s wife appeared.  It bordered on gaunt in Cailan’s estimation, but for all he knew, that fragile look was what appealed to the men of Cylandrea.

Before he could think any longer on the queen’s appearance, the king proceeded with introductions. 

“My dear, I’d like you to meet Prince Cailan of Arten, honored concubine and war gift to my brother Jarek.  Cailan, please meet my wife, Queen Kesla of the family Rince.”

Cailan wasn’t sure what the importance was of the way King Alaric spoke the introductions, but he dutifully bowed to the queen and kissed her hand when she offered it to him.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Prince Cailan,” she said with a slight lisp in her speech.  “The king has told me the honor with which you stood in your brother’s place to come to us.”

Mention of little Doron made Cailan’s eyes well unexpectedly.  He offered another brief bow mostly to hide his reaction and get control of himself as he answered.  “Thank you, your majesty.”

There was, unfortunately, a brief but awkward silence after that, but it was thankfully ended when the king suggested they see if the servants had finished readying the meal.

It looked as if they had.  The table was set elegantly and two placid looking women stood ready to serve.  Cailan noticed the plump cushion sitting by one of the chairs and worked to make himself believe that no one would think less of him for being a concubine.  Thankfully they were all seated without fanfare, and Cailan leaned almost subconsciously against Jarek’s leg.  It did seem odd to be in this position with no bindings of any sort.  He wondered if that meant that he could use his hands.

His unspoken question was answered when Jarek placed a bite-sized hors d'oeuvre against his mouth.  Cailan opened obediently, his cheeks heating slightly, but he soon saw that the action received no more than a passing glance of attention from anyone.

It was harder to accept food from another’s hand when he could see the items within reach and there was nothing stopping him from feeding himself.  There were several times he nearly reached for what was on the table or the bite Jarek offered him, but he managed to catch himself.  When he had another close call, he tried to discreetly put his arms behind him, just as they would have been if Jarek had used the cuffs.  In that position, the temptation to reach out lessened, and Cailan was able to focus more on the meal and the conversation of the others than on what he might do wrong.  Surprisingly, the warmth of his owner’s hand squeezed his shoulder approvingly after he did this.  He looked up and met Jarek’s fond gaze.

“So, Prince Cailan, what are your thoughts of Cylandrea so far?”  King Alaric’s voice interrupted the quiet moment between them.

Cailan tried to be wise with his answer.  “I have not really seen your country yet, your majesty.”

The king and queen both got looks on their faces that revealed that they believed the reason for Cailan’s lack of sightseeing had to do with his duties in the bedroom.  They both seemed pleased with that assumption, although Cailan felt embarrassed over that line of thinking and his faced burned with discomfort.

“Perhaps I should instead ask what you think of my brother thus far?” Alaric suggested, and it seemed there was both teasing and honest curiosity in the question.

Surprisingly, Jarek spoke up and sounded put out with his elder sibling.  “Al, you promised,” he claimed, which was a mystifying comment to Cailan’s ears.  Jarek reached down and cupped his face.  “Petling, you may keep your thoughts to yourself if you wish not to answer.  I just ask that you speak honestly if you do choose to respond.”

Cailan was surprised to be defended in such a way, especially when it was the king of the land whom Jarek shielded him from.  Brothers or not, some things just weren’t done when it came to royalty. 

It seemed his silent thoughts were well-founded when King Alaric spoke again, his voice now terse to his brother instead of friendly.  “Jarek, you get above yourself,” he warned.

“I do not,” Jarek refuted.  “I am reminding you of your solemn word to me.  I do understand that just as Cailan is under my authority, I am under yours.  But he has the right to expect me to keep my word to him since he must trust me with his care; in the same manner I expect your honor to stand behind your words.”

Cailan swallowed nervously, his heart pounding a bit in fear that the king would punish his master for speaking so boldly, brother or not.  It frightened him to think of what might happen to him if Jarek was taken away.  And, just as strong a fear was for his owner’s best.  He had no desire to see Jarek punished for speaking up for him.

Alaric’s face had darkened some with his younger brother’s words, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Queen Kesla delicately placed her hand on her husband’s arm.  Alaric looked to her, and after a minute his expression softened.

Cailan seized this moment of peace to try to do his part to ease the contention between the two men.  “I think your brother has shown me much patience, sire,” he answered the earlier question quietly.  “He shows me more regard than the concubines I have known in my own country have received.  There has been a lot that has not made sense to me, but he has tried to help me understand.”

The king looked momentarily surprised that Cailan had answered the question, but he recovered quickly.  “Thank you for letting me know, Cailan.  It is truthful to say that Jarek has always been the more patient one, as I’ve just proven with my question to you.  I tend to seek the fast action when the slow one is more beneficial,” he admitted.

“And Alaric reminds me that there are times to act as well as times to think,” Jarek replied.

Both men were speaking much more graciously than they had a minute ago.  Cailan, feeling as much a participant in the conversation, spoke up a bit more willingly. 

“My father is a man of action,” he told them.  “He told all of us—his sons—that as a younger man he sometimes acted foolishly because he rushed into something too soon.  As he got older he said he found wisdom in taking an extra minute to think or seek out the counsel of his advisors before acting.”

“Yes, sometimes age and experience are the best teachers.”  Those words came from Queen Kesla, and were almost surprising to hear because it seemed she’d had little to say during their meal.

Cailan glanced up at her and received a small but warm smile from her. 

“You said you have brothers, Prince Cailan,” she put in, clearly implying that it was time to change the direction of things.  “I know of one.  How many others are there?”

All four of them seemed to relax back into their places, and the servants quickly cleared away the dinner dishes and put out plates of sweet bits while Cailan answered.

“There are seven of us, my lady,” he told her.  “I am the sixth born.”

“He is a lucky man to have so many sons,” she said, and Cailan heard the wistfulness in her words even before she finished the statement.  “The king and I still hope for some of our own someday.  But tell me, have you no sisters?”

Cailan shook his head.  “No, your majesty, not anymore.  There was one girl born after my eldest brother, but it was too soon for her to enter the world and she only lived a few days.”

All three members of the royal family looked truly saddened at that news.  King Alaric broke the moment of silence that had followed with a softly spoken question.  “Did she have a name?”

Cailan answered just as softly.  “She was christened Princess Ciel when she was born.  In Arten her name means “a gift from heaven”.  My mother used to say that heaven took her back so our family would have a personal angel looking out for us from above.”

There was an extended silence after his words, and Cailan began to think he had said too much; not to mention that speaking of his family made him miss them even more acutely.  When Jarek offered him a mouthful of the sweet bit that had been brought for dessert, Cailan shook his head.  His throat had closed up and he didn’t think he could swallow anything.

Eventually the table was completely cleared and Cailan stood when Jarek urged him.  His owner pulled him into an unexpected hug, and Cailan discovered his arms naturally went around the older man. 

“When your family comes to visit us in a year’s time, I look forward to getting to know them better,” Jarek said into his ear.

Cailan wasn’t sure what to say to that.  He wondered if Jarek wouldn’t have tired of him by that time, but he kept the thought to himself.

The king urged all of them to a sitting area in the room, and in a short while a group of musicians joined them.

“I know you must see to today’s training in a short while,” Alaric said to his brother, “but a few minutes of entertainment would be good for all of us at this time.”

Jarek nodded his agreement and the four of them split into couples and commandeered two of the room’s divans.  Cailan was pleased not to be relegated to the floor again when instead Jarek pulled him onto the couch at his side.

“Stretch out and lay your head on me, petling,” his master told him. 

Not sure what he meant at first, Cailan followed Jarek’s guiding hands until he was lying prone with his head in his owner’s lap.  He didn’t look to the king and queen, but closed his eyes and focused on the music that started to play and the feel of Jarek’s hand as it started to comb through his hair.

*****

“I’m not to go with you?”

Cailan and Jarek had returned to their personal rooms after the meal with the king and queen, and Jarek was preparing to go to the training of his men.

“No, not today, petling,” the older man responded to Cailan’s question.

Unexpectedly, Cailan felt disappointed at that news.  He’d gotten used to being constantly with his master, and it was strange to entertain the idea of several hours without him. 

Jarek finished dressing in his training uniform and then took Cailan’s hand and walked him to the spacious parlor where they took their meals.  He led them to one of the room’s large picture windows and directed Cailan’s attention outside. 

“Do you see that field beyond the copse of trees?” his owner asked.  Cailan nodded.  “That is where the training exercises will be done.  It is too far a distance to really see much detail, but if you’d like to see where I am while I’m gone, that is the location.”

He then pointed to a spot in a clearing near the window.  “Over there is a sundial.  I want you to watch the time.  You are to spend two hours working on organizing the books, and then I want you to use the rest of the time till I return in studying the history text I gave you.”

“When will you be back?”

Jarek cupped Cailan’s cheek, and the younger man realized he probably sounded a little pathetic in his question.

“I will be back in time to share the evening meal with you, petling.  Do not leave the rooms while I’m gone.  I know it can be unpleasant to be alone in a place still unfamiliar, but I do not want you roaming the halls or seeking out people just yet.  The palace is large and doesn’t always make sense in the way its halls and additions have been built, and I do not want you to get lost.  Tomorrow I’ll take the time to show you a bit more.  Ok?”

Cailan sighed.  “Yes,” he agreed reluctantly. 

A mere lift of his owner’s brow made him quickly catch on to his mistake.

“Yes, my lord,” he corrected quickly.

Jarek tapped his bottom in a silent reminder, but said nothing else of Cailan’s lapse.  “I do not foresee any problems while I’m gone, but if some emergency does occur, I want you to pull this cord.”  Jarek moved aside one of the heavy curtains bordering the window and pointed out a leather cord neatly hidden in its folds.  “Help will come to you, but pull it only in the case of an emergency,” he reiterated.

“Yes, my lord,” Cailan said again.

“Good.  Go to your task now, petling.  I’ll return in a few hours.”

Cailan sighed morosely when the doors closed behind Jarek’s retreating form.  Sitting down on one of the room’s elegant couches, he thought on his master and speculated on the feelings and changes he was experiencing within himself.  He’d wondered on them briefly as he’d reclined with Jarek after the meal with the king and queen.  When he’d felt his owner pet his fingers through his hair—his silver hair that Jarek found beautiful—he’d experienced a pleasant mixture of contentment, warmth, and comfort in his position.  He realized he liked being with Jarek, and that the man’s way with him had started to make him feel amorous tingles when he was touched.  Jarek was a conundrum, a type of man Cailan had never encountered before.

Cailan thought hard on what he was experiencing.  None of it made sense.

He shouldn’t miss the man to whom he was a possession…but he did.

He’d never minded a bit of solitude before…but now it was unwelcome.

He shouldn’t like the one who had complete control over his life…yet he couldn’t seem to help it.

He didn’t want the attraction that was burgeoning for his owner…but it was there.

And mostly he didn’t understand the submission his owner seemed to pull from him…but it felt natural.

The two thoughts of attraction and submission were the hardest to understand, and even harder to accept.  What would happen if he gave into them?  Was that crossing to the point of no return?  Would he be abused or taken advantage of if he gave in?

“Am I actually considering offering myself to him?” Cailan asked himself aloud.

He immediately shook his head.  He couldn’t imagine saying those words to anyone, and it was a scary prospect to think of his body being used that way.  Although it seemed the hardness growing in his leggings didn’t think so.  Apparently that part of him thought that it was an appealing idea.

“Why?” he asked his groin, and then laughed out loud in embarrassment at himself.  He’d just talked to his privates as if he’d get a response!

The laughter was short-lived and followed up with another sigh.  Introspection was wearying, and left him with no answers, just more questions.  Life—especially the life he now lived—was complicated.

“So what would make it less complicated?” he spoke into the quiet of the room.  “What would make me happy right now?”

Other than the obvious solution of a return to his old life, Cailan knew immediately that the answer was that he actually wanted to make Leader Jarek happy, particularly since the man truly had been very patient with him.  And he knew that doing what the other man asked of him would please them both.  So, with a determined push off the divan, he headed to his task with the bookshelves.

Once again, the assignment was one he enjoyed.  He loved simply perusing the titles and hoping for the chance to read each and every tome.

He also tried to pay better attention to his surroundings, both so he wouldn’t be taken by surprise again, and to occasionally check the sundial out the window.  He had a feeling that Jarek would not look kindly on him not paying attention to the time.

Each time he checked the dial, his gaze roamed to the soldiers he could see in the distant field.  Sometimes they were in a formation, and other times he’d see a few sparring.  He wished he could see a bit closer, particularly when the group moved in sync.  From a distance it looked like a well-oiled machine.  As he’d discovered even before his transfer to Cylandrea, this country’s military was among the best he and the royal family had come across.  He had respect for Jarek’s capabilities, and now knew from personal experience that his owner truly was both a competent and very skilled fighter.  A few aches from their training that morning proved it.

When he was just past the two-hour mark on the dial, he forced himself to leave the task where it was and headed to the desk.  The book and journaler were right where he’d left them.  With happy anticipation, he opened his journaler to a blank page and the textbook to the fifth chapter.

Losing himself in the opportunity for a study time that was not just quiet, but ordered and encouraged as well, Cailan was five chapters ahead and had filled four pages with notes and questions when he felt two large hands grip his shoulders and begin to knead.  He managed to keep himself from jumping in surprise before looking up to see his owner.  That strange tingle shuddered through his body.  Jarek was still in his training uniform and looked hot and dirty, but he grinned at Cailan through the dust streaking his face.

“It is incredibly alluring to see how involved you get when studying something,” Jarek told him.

Cailan couldn’t help smiling back, both at the compliment and the fact that his owner had returned.  “Did you just get back?”

I returned about ten minutes ago and thoroughly enjoyed watching you work, although your shoulders are awfully tight,” he commented as he continued to manipulate the muscles.

“I hadn’t really noticed,” Cailan admitted and leaned into the firm touch.  The deep rubbing felt very good.  It occurred to him after a minute that what they were doing just then was somewhat backwards.  It should be him massaging Jarek instead of the other way around. 

Blood began to head downwards in him as he considered that option.  Just two days ago he never would have thought it appealing, but it felt truly difficult to not be drawn to this man.

Jarek broke into his thoughts with a quiet order.  “Your lessons are done for the day.  Come and bathe with me.”

That sent a little more blood flowing south and Cailan tried to discreetly adjust himself as he stood.  Jarek, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide that he noticed his concubine’s erection.  He grinned a bit wickedly at the smaller man, but then merely took Cailan’s hand and walked with him to the bathing room.

They stripped and stepped into the heated water, but when Cailan reached for a sponge, Jarek took it from his hand.  He continued the massage he’d started in the other room, only this time with the mildly abrasive feel of the sponge gliding over Cailan’s body.  It wasn’t the first time Jarek had washed him, but something about it felt more intimate now.  Cailan wasn’t sure if it was because he was getting to know Jarek better, or if it had to do with starting to accept instead of fight some aspects of his new life.

The soap-filled sponge caressed his body slowly, usually followed by the glide of his master’s other hand tracking its path.  When the sponge dropped lower and began washing his nether cheeks, Cailan subconsciously arched into the contact instead of jerking away as he’d originally done.  As the touch glided around to his front, he moaned.

“Why does it feel good?” he whispered, his eyes closed as he absorbed the sensation.

Jarek pressed his whole body to Cailan’s back and continued to lightly run both the sponge and his soapy hand over the smaller man’s groin.  “Because it’s supposed to,” he whispered back.

Cailan gasped as Jarek’s touch got a bit firmer.  “Are you going to take me?” he asked breathlessly, and with a lot less fear than he’d previously shown.

“When you ask me to,” his owner replied.  This time the words felt like a promise of things to come instead of a vow to wait.

Cailan felt limp when Jarek finished bathing him, but a touch of energy returned when, to the younger man’s surprise, Jarek handed the soap-filled sponge to him.  Cailan took it with a question in his eyes, and then unspoken understanding when his master directed him to use the sponge on him.  Slowly, Cailan began moving the item that had just washed him over his possessor’s body.

As he bathed the older man, he took a closer look at the pattern of markings across Jarek’s torso.  He was again struck by how beautiful the purple swirls were.  He studied the skin as he cleansed it, and it came to his attention that there seemed to be a dominant marking centered on Jarek’s chest.  He washed that area thoroughly, and then was so caught up in studying the pattern that he dropped the sponge in the water and proceeded to run his fingers over the colorful skin.  He slowly traced the outcropping of swirls and stripes up to Jarek’s shoulders before a strong hand lightly gripped his wrist, preventing him from continuing. 

Looking up, he saw heat and lust in Jarek’s eyes, a sight that sent a dizzying mixture of arousal and an untouched virgin’s nerves through his body.  But then he realized there was more in the gaze than the clearly restrained passion.  There seemed to be longing and even a hint of anxiety there as well.

“Do you want to touch me, little prince?” Jarek asked, his voice so low it was barely audible.

Cailan stared back for a moment, studying the dark blue eyes watching him.  “If I touch you, will I have to do more?” he asked, now unsure whether he wanted the answer to be yes more than no.

Jarek’s voice was husky.  “I’ve already answered that, petling.  I will touch you, and you may touch me, but I will not force my physical claim on you until you ask it of me.”

Almost automatically, as if a magnet was drawing him to his owner, Cailan leaned into the larger man until their chests barely brushed together.  “I want to touch you,” he whispered, and without thinking it through he tipped his head up and initiated a kiss with his master.

Jarek’s chest rumbled under Cailan’s fingers and strong arms wrapped around him.  They kissed until Cailan felt dizzy with need and unaware of being carried out of the water until his feet were set down on the warm tiles of the bathing room.  He whimpered when Jarek stepped away from him and immediately the bigger man returned to hold him.

“That sound you make,” Jarek murmured as he nuzzled Cailan’s throat.  “Your moan is like a herald telling me you’re mine.”  There was the barest of sighs as he nipped at Cailan’s neck.  “You are mine, but not in that way…yet.”  He pulled back enough to look into Cailan’s eyes.  “I’m going to get a towel and dry us, and then you may continue to touch me however you like,” he promised.

In a very short time they were both in Jarek’s bed, although a bout of anxiety momentarily took over Cailan’s arousal. 

“I don’t…really…know how,” he admitted.

Jarek reached for his hand and placed Cailan’s palm on his chest.  “Touch like you did in the bath.  Explore.  I want you to know my body.”

“What if you don’t like what I do?”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Jarek said with a wicked grin.  “I’ll guide you, and if there is something I dislike, I’ll let you know.”

Cailan nodded and then began tracing the beautiful markings as he’d done in the water.  “They all start here,” he whispered as he caressed the intricate purple mark at the very center of Jarek’s chest.  “Your markings all trail off from this spot.”

He felt a hand at the back of his head and the slight pressure pushing down encouraged him to lightly kiss the area with his lips.  With man or woman, Cailan had never done even this much, but it almost felt like a warm blessing draped over him as he tasted his master’s skin.  It was sensual and arousing, and Cailan began to lose himself in the moment.

“That is the origin mark,” Jarek said hoarsely as Cailan pressed kisses and even dared to dart his tongue out onto the toned chest.  “It is the mark I was born with.  All the rest grow and develop from it as I mature.”

Cailan subconsciously took that information in as he explored.  Jarek’s hand once again guided him, this time to one of his nipples.  Cailan hesitated only a moment before shyly licking the nub.  The bigger man panted out a breath and Cailan smiled at the reaction before going in more boldly.

Time felt like it ceased as Jarek’s hands guided the young prince all over his body.  His gasps and pants gave wordless orders to the smaller man, and Cailan obeyed them more and more willingly as his own arousal became a mix of pleasure and pain. 

The only unspoken command Jarek did not enforce was when he guided Cailan to his erection.  When he urged the younger man’s mouth toward it, Cailan pulled back looking unsure and a bit horrified.

“Is that…done?” he asked in a tremulous whisper, clearly not wanting to break the sensual mood, but scared of what he was being asked to do.

“Oh yes, petling.”  Jarek’s voice sounded like gravel and he met Cailan’s eyes, seeming to study the younger man’s inner thoughts.  “But we will save it for another time.”  He nodded at Cailan’s hand.  “Take hold of me.”

Cailan did, and was struck by the fact that he was touching such a private part of another man. 

“Stroke me,” Jarek ordered.

Cailan’s hand moved, tentatively at first, but then with growing confidence as he saw the pleasure in his owner’s face. 

“Yes…” Jarek murmured.  His hand reached out and tangled into Cailan’s hair.  The smaller man kept up his strokes as Jarek pulled him in for a kiss, and a moment later his possessor’s body arched and spilled over in bliss.

The man took several heaving breaths, and then Cailan yelped in surprise and hot pleasure as Jarek moved with lightning speed and took Cailan’s erection into his mouth.  It was only seconds before the feeling of the most amazing explosion erupted from him, and he cried out with the sensation.

Afterwards, feeling completely limp, he offered no protest to being pulled close to Jarek’s body and falling asleep.

*****

Pangs of hunger woke Cailan from his previously sound sleep.  Without opening his eyes, he tried to ignore his empty belly; instead pressing against the body he slept beside a little more firmly. 

The hunger would not be ignored though, and after several minutes and a stomach that grumbled loud enough that he worried about waking Jarek, Cailan knew he’d have to get something to fill his belly.  He opened his eyes reluctantly, only to find the room much darker than he expected.  Moonlight shining in from the window was the only faint light to be seen.  From all appearances, it was the middle of the night, which meant that dinner had not only been delayed, but completely missed!  It was no wonder his stomach was growling at him.

Carefully sliding away from his owner’s warm body, Cailan made it out of bed and padded quietly to the parlor, hoping that the evening meal might yet be there.  He still hadn’t seen any servants within Jarek’s quarters, but he knew they came and went unseen by the items left in their wake.

He was glad to see the table still set and the covered items on it apparently untouched.  He began removing lids and found vegetables, meat on the bone, bread, and what looked like some of the same sweet bits he’d been offered but hadn’t tasted during their meal with the king.  Everything was stone cold, but other than avoiding the mix of vegetables, he didn’t mind eating the rest of the meal as it was.  He filled a plate and sat down.

With his first bite he noticed the cushion on the floor and he realized this was the first time he’d fed himself since arriving in Cylandrea.  It was even the first time sitting properly at a table.  It felt almost odd, like he wasn’t in the right place, but he’d spent his whole life eating this way and only two days being fed by another while he sat on the floor.  It didn’t make any sense that he might actually prefer to eat at Jarek’s feet.

As his thoughts drifted to his possessor, it occurred to him that his bed partner might wake up hungry as well.  Before second guessing himself, he filled the plate a bit fuller and grabbed a goblet of the fruited water usually given with their meals, and carried both into the bedroom. 

Jarek’s dark hair seemed to shimmer even more in the moonlight, the silver within it catching the rays of the moon and stars so it almost looked like a living thing all on its own.  Cailan set the food and drink on a bedside table and sat delicately on the mattress, close to where his owner slept.  Tentatively he reached out and touched the black and silver strands, marveling again at how surprisingly soft they were.  He kept lightly stroking with one finger until blue eyes opened and blinked up at him. 

“Why are you awake, petling?” Jarek’s voice, deeper with the sleep in it, asked from where he lay.

“I was hungry, and…I thought you might be too,” he answered with almost a question at the end of that statement.  He nodded toward the food on the bed table and Jarek’s eyes looked toward the plate.

“Did you eat?” his owner asked.

Cailan shook his head, but then caught himself and answered truthfully.  “A couple bites, but…I thought we could eat together.”

Again there was a question mark at the end of that sentence.  Cailan heard it clearly, but he wasn’t quite sure what he was asking.

Jarek’s arm lifted from under the covers and reached for the younger man.  His hand cupped the back of Cailan’s neck and urged him slowly downward until their faces were merely inches apart.  “Do you want me to feed you, petling?”

Cailan closed his eyes, immediately feeling vulnerable, but suddenly realizing that yes, that was exactly what he wanted and why he’d brought the food to the room.  He felt both shame and desire as that knowledge hit him.

“I…don’t…” he sighed, his eyes were still closed and he still felt Jarek’s hand on his neck.  “I don’t know why I want that,” he admitted almost tearfully.  There was a shift and he felt soft lips touch his mouth.

“Because it’s right,” Jarek whispered to him.

“How?” Cailan whispered back desperately, his eyes shutting tighter.  “A man doesn’t lower himself.  He doesn’t surrender.  He fights!”

The hand squeezed on his neck.  “Oh, sweet one,” the deep voice said almost sadly.  “You do not see the full picture of a man.  A man shouldn’t fight unless he knows what he is fighting for and believes in it.  A man who just fights has no direction, no purpose and no ambition.  Ultimately he battles against himself and does violence to his soul because he aspires to nothing more than to be seen as a man who has a war with everything.”

Warm lips kissed Cailan’s mouth again.

“You are a man—a fighter and a soldier, a son and yes, a concubine; but you are more, so much more than your labels.  You do not lower yourself by admitting what feels right in your soul, and surrender does not always mean that you have lost something.  Sometimes it means gaining what you need because you admitted you needed it.”

Cailan barely shook his head.  “You always say things I don’t understand.”

“No, that is not true.  Look at me, my prince.”

Very unenthusiastically, Cailan opened his eyes.  His face was so close to Jarek’s that all he could really see was his owner’s deep blue gaze.  It was serious and intent on him.

“I think you do understand what I’m saying to you,” Jarek told him.  “What I think you struggle with is the acceptance of the words.”

One tear traitorously escaped and dripped down Cailan’s cheek.  “They go against everything I know.”

“Perhaps they mesh with what you know more than you comprehend, young one.  It might be time to explore what you know, what you’ve been taught, more deeply; and see if what you are familiar with and what you’re now learning have more compatibility than you realize.”

They fell silent then, the two of them merely watching each other carefully as the words hung in the air.  After several minutes Jarek kissed him a third time, making the contact both soft and deep.  He touched his forehead to Cailan’s when he broke the kiss.

“Tell me honestly, sweet one.  Do you wish me to feed you?”

Cailan gulped on the knot in his throat and nodded once.  “Yes.”

“Then I will because you wish it, but if I do this for you then I want you to do something for me.”

“What?” Cailan asked.

“I want you to let go and accept your enjoyment of it,” Jarek told him.

Cailan’s breathing got faster.  “I….”

“Do not say you can’t,” Jarek interrupted him firmly.  “There is no shame in your enjoyment.  I want you to have pleasure in it.  It gives me satisfaction to care for you, and it delights me when you accept it willingly because it is something that is right between us.”

All during their conversation, Jarek had remained prone and Cailan hovered over him with his master’s hand at the back of his neck holding him securely.  Now he felt like a knot inside him loosened.  It didn’t disappear, but it gave him some slack and he relaxed his body until he lay on Jarek’s chest. 

“That’s it, my petling,” Jarek murmured soothingly.  His fingers scratched soothingly up and down Cailan’s back and over the curve of his bottom for several minutes before one lightly patted his cheeks.  “Come up here,” he directed.

Cailan sat up and went where Jarek maneuvered him.  Soon they both sat against their pillows, with Cailan under Jarek’s arm and his head resting on the bigger man’s shoulder.  In that position Jarek fed him, alternating bites between them until they both were satisfied. 

“Sleep now,” Jarek ordered him when they were done.  “No more thinking tonight.”

*****

More clothes arrived for Cailan in the morning.  He was pleased to see the majority was attire suitable for everyday wear, but another sheer shirt and a couple more items he silently dubbed risqué were there as well.  Thankfully Jarek once again handed him a pair of leggings and a green, long-sleeved tunic to dress in after they’d bathed. 

“I’m going to show you the rest of the palace wing that my suites are in this morning,” Jarek told him after breakfast.  “Then this afternoon I need to go to my troops again.”

Cailan couldn’t prevent a hopeful look to his master.  “May I come this time?”

Jarek started to shake his head, but then paused.  “I’ll consider it,” he finally said.

Cailan would take it.  Despite getting outside to train with Jarek the previous morning, he was starting to feel a little shut in with the limits placed on where he could go. 

They spent most of the morning going through the palace’s eastern wing.  Jarek hadn’t been kidding when he’d said the layout of the palace didn’t always make sense.  There were enough twists, turns, incredibly long hallways, and random rooms to leave Cailan feeling very mixed up.  He felt he could navigate a thick woodland without a compass easier than the layout of the place. 

He did get to meet several palace servants on the tour.  Jarek introduce him to cooks, cleaning girls, a couple pages, and several guards, including Lady Bara’s son, Jothan.  Cailan found him to be the most personable of those he met.  All the other servants seemed to stare at him with a wide range of emotions.  He didn’t quite understand that, and when he and Jarek were in a room by themselves, Cailan tactfully asked about the strange response he was receiving.

“Have they never seen a concubine before, my lord?”

“They’ve seen many, and they attend to those on the grounds on a daily basis.”

“Then why do they look at me as they do?”

“Because you are special,” Jarek told him plainly.

“Why?  Because I’m royal?  Because my hair is silver instead of black from theirs? Because I’m not residing in the harem?”

“Yes, and more,” his owner responded vaguely, and then gave him a mildly penetrating look.  “And I do recall telling you that you will not be residing in the harem.  I do not appreciate you implying otherwise.”

Cailan flushed.  “I did not mean to accuse you of anything.  It’s just…it’s natural if you tire of me eventually.  Wouldn’t I have to reside with the harem at that time?”

“No,” Jarek said shortly, and encouraged no further questioning on it after that.

Cailan had still been tempted to push a little, but they were joined by another servant; this one looking rather more commanding than the others he had seen.

“Ah, Charon,” Jarek greeted. 

“Sire,” the man responded in all seriousness.

Jarek pulled Cailan forward.  “My prince, this is Charon, the head steward of the palace, otherwise addressed as Senior Charon by the serving staff and visitors.  Charon, this is Prince Cailan of Arten, my war gift and honored companion.” 

The neutrality in the servant’s face gave a flash of surprise before the man quickly schooled it.  Cailan was surprised as well.  That was the first time Jarek had referred to him as a companion instead of a concubine during an introduction.  He put it to the back of his mind for a moment before offering a respectable half bow.

“It’s good to meet you, Senior Charon,” he offered.  “I know the duties of the head servant in my father’s household were never done.  It takes a talented man to keep things running smoothly.”

The steward responded with a deeper bow and a, “Thank you, your highness.”  He then turned to Jarek, almost shutting an invisible door in Cailan’s face.  “Sire, when you have a moment, I’d like to discuss some things with you.”

“I have a moment now.  What is on your mind?”

The man wavered for the briefest of moments, and Cailan thought he saw Charon’s eyes glance at him in that hesitation.  “Begging your companion’s pardon, sire, but they are matters of a private nature,” the steward answered.

Jarek frowned, and his expression was one Cailan hadn’t seen before and didn’t like.  It was almost foreboding, and its appearance showed Cailan some of the warrior and military head that lived in his master.

“I will contact you with an appropriate time then, Charon.  Go back to your duties,” Jarek ordered.

It was a command not to be questioned and Cailan heard the rebuke in it, although he had no idea what Charon had done to antagonize Jarek.  It was a relief when the man left immediately, but Jarek’s expression didn’t soften much.

“Is something wrong, my lord?” Cailan questioned quietly, in a tone he hoped might soothe the bigger man.  He watched Jarek deliberately instead of naturally relax his face and posture.

“No, petling.  Nothing of consequence.  Come, we should return to our rooms and eat.  It won’t be long before I need to attend to my soldiers.”

Cailan almost felt dismissed with that answer, like Jarek was hiding something, and he didn’t like it, but he didn’t wish to irritate his owner more by pressing the matter.

They were both quiet when they returned to the suite.  Feeling like he needed a minute, Cailan excused himself to the necessary while Jarek checked to see if their midday meal had arrived.  He took his time going back, slowly washing his hands and face at one of the many basins.  Mirrored glass hung in several places in the room, and Cailan took a moment to look at himself, half expecting to see his physical features change along with everything else in his life.  But they were still the same, except for eyes that held a bit more life experience.

Eighteen years of life and three days of too many experiences, he thought ruefully.

However, that passing thought he realized was partly wrong.  He was no longer eighteen.  Today he was nineteen.  The hit of that, the loss he felt when he realized that was extremely painful.  He gasped and gripped the porcelain basin he stood before as honest pain rolled through his stomach.

“Cailan!”

Jarek’s voice sounded from behind him, alarmed and concerned.  Hurried footsteps preceded hands gripping his shoulders, but Cailan wrenched away from the touch.  “No!  Do not touch me!”

Through tears of anger and pain he hadn’t expected, Cailan saw Jarek’s concern deepen, although the man held up his hands placatingly as if facing an angry horse.  “Are you hurt?  What’s wrong, my prince?”

That is what is wrong, Cailan thought.  He was Jarek’s prince now, no longer a prince of the land of Arten, or the royal born son of King Saxon.  Nineteen was a vital birthday for an Artenian man, and Cailan knew that plans had been made for months to celebrate this day for him, just as they had done for his older brothers.  But all that was moot now.  He felt even more bereft and alone than he had when he’d watched his father signing the alliance with Cylandrea and sealing Cailan’s future as a concubine.

“You have taken it away from me,” he accused his owner, directing his anger at the only man he felt he could hold responsible.

“Taken what?” Jarek asked, his voice pacifying and his hands still lifted to calm.

“My birthday,” Cailan stated angrily, and then realized that unless his possessor understood the significance this day would have held, his answer would only be seen as pathetic.  He blinked at the tears flooding his eyes.

Jarek appeared shocked and saddened.  “Is today your birthday, my prince?”

Cailan could hardly speak around the lump in his throat.  “It’s important,” he defended, and then went limp.  “But it doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“Of course it matters,” Jarek refuted, but Cailan cut him off with an angry swipe of his hand.

“It doesn’t!”

Jarek seemed to consider him for a long moment before surprising Cailan and sitting down on the warm tiles on the bathing room.  “Sit, Prince Cailan, and tell me why it no longer matters.  What would you be doing in Arten this day?”

Cailan took a step back and then turned contemptuously.  “You would not understand, and it does not matter now.”

“Cailan.”  This time there was a note of steel in Jarek’s voice.  “You’re upset is clear to me and I’m inclined to think it is somewhat justified, but it does not excuse disobedience.  Sit and talk to me, or sit with a throb in your backside after I deal with your tantrum.”

Cailan felt both hot anger and icy trepidation at the threat.  Unfortunately, he was fairly certain Jarek would follow through if he was pushed.  Unwillingly, he turned back around and sat on the tiles, several feet from his master but facing him.

Jarek nodded once.  “Wise choice.  Now tell me of this day.  How old are you?”

Cailan couldn’t look at him, but he answered as respectfully as he could manage.  “I am nineteen today.”

“I take it nineteen is an important birthday in Arten?”

Cailan nodded.

“Tell me why.”

It was hard to do partly because his upset made Cailan want to withhold the information just for spite.  “At nineteen, you are fully a man,” he forced out.

“And you are not fully a man before then?” Jarek questioned.

Cailan shook his head rather forcefully, causing his hair to wave about his face.  “Manhood just begins at sixteen.  It is the age when you have a choice over your future, whether you will continue school or pursue an apprenticeship.  Many young men begin the process of building their own home at that age,” he explained.  “At sixteen you are also allowed and expected to fight in battle if there is one currently going on.  Later, at eighteen you are allowed to marry if you choose.  It is the next progression of becoming a man.”

“I see,” Jarek replied slowly.  “And what of nineteen?”

“At nineteen,” Cailan answered, his throat momentarily closing up.  He had to swallow several times before continuing.  “At nineteen you become the king’s man.  It is considered the final crossing into manhood.  A boy does not cut his hair throughout his life until this day.  But when he turns nineteen, he cuts it to his shoulders and offers it in a burnt offering to the king, showing his loyalty.”

There was a minute of silence and then Jarek repeated, “I see”, followed by a low sigh.  “Had a celebration been planned for today, petling?”

“Yes,” Cailan confirmed, feeling heartsick.  “It is…an important day that is planned for months.”  He looked down at his still long silver tresses.  “But as I have said, it no longer matters.”

“Oh, my sweet one.”  Jarek’s voice held sympathy.  He stood from the tiles and held a hand out to the younger man.  “Come to me, please?”

His whole body feeling heavy with emotion, Cailan rose slowly and approached, putting his hand in Jarek’s without meeting the man’s eyes.  He was pulled closer until his chest pressed up against his owner’s and a finger moved under his chin and tilted his face up.

“I am sorry that circumstances seemed to have ruined such a special day,” Jarek said sincerely.  “But the day does not end until midnight.  I will not make you any promises other than I will try to make the hours until then special in their own way.”

Cailan didn’t see how anything special could come out of such ruination, but much of the anger he’d directed at Jarek fizzled as he appreciated just hearing the words and feeling that his master somewhat understood the hardship.  When Jarek dipped his head and kissed him, Cailan did not turn away.

          “Come and eat now, petling, and then you’ll come with me to the training time.”