marlowemuses | This will be happily ever after...

Damen was, in fact, proud of his Consort. Proud of how easily he adapted, proud of the honor he brought to both Vere and Akielos as their collective Prince. Watching him amongst the court, it was easy for Damen to let his gaze soften and his approval shine through. It still amazed him, just how gifted Laurent was at diplomacy and winning favor.

When he wanted to.

Slowly, the effect of the glances and nips and kisses began to take its toll. A dull flush spread over Damen's face as he let Laurent thieve his lips, feeling the warmth of them pulling him in, feeling the contentment of his people at his own contentment. His arm slid behind Laurent's waist, comfortably resting there as he kept the gap between them deliberately small. He bent his head. "I think they like - "

"Exalted."

Damen turned from the shell of Laurent's ear to examine the newcomer. Nereus. He should have warned them - should have known this would be one of the wedding gifts offered up. It was too late now, for Nereus approached with a deep bow and a flicker at a retinue of young slaves who glided forward and prostrated themselves before the thrones at a humble distance. They were all male. Deference to Laurent?

Damen kept the corners of his eyes fixed on his spouse. This could be an ugly scene, he realized, a rare feeling of nervousness creeping through his limbs.

[Erasmus and Isander can both be here hehehe]

Laurent's brow arched at the newcomer and his retinue.

It was a bold move, as Marlas was still in Vere, and Vere disallowed the sale or breeding of slaves--any human born on Veretian soil was Veretian. Gifting slaves, however, was permitted, as was keeping slaves, both stipulations that Laurent despised.

"Who is this?" Laurent asked of Damen, back straight and chin proud, radiating a sort of petty irritation as though the stranger's worst sin had been to interrupt their conversation.

When he was given the trader's identity, Laurent took a step forward, looking him over as though he was the slave being offered rather than the lovely youths on their knees. "Nereus, tsk," he said, tone light and only with a hint of scolding. "It's considered distasteful to present slaves at a Veretian court." Never do this again. And, if you have sense, never do this again in front of me. "But, I will forgive you this time. I understand that it was your enthusiasm and generosity to your King that led you to this misstep."

He smiled indulgently upon the man, and then walked past him, no longer interested in the slaver. Instead, he turned his attention to the slaves, considering them. One of them had trembling hands, though the tremor was very subtle.

Laurent stopped in front of that one, reaching out his hand in offering. "Tell me your name."

The censure was received for what it was, although Nereus looked offended and Damen felt personally responsible. He sighed. He would have to speak with the man later.

He tracked Laurent's movements with a watchful gaze. All of the slaves were of the finest quality and training. What was Laurent looking for, exactly?

A long-limbed, well-formed youth with the classic Akielon olive skin and dark waves and a sweet tremble to his body was the overjoyed recipient of Laurent's attention. He raised his head but not his gaze, blushing and kneeling before the Prince. "Highness, this slave is Isander." He had been instructed in the Veretian title, Damen noted, and was graceful and pliant even as he quivered with excitement and nerves.

Giving his opinionated husband the right of addressing the gifts first, Damen held his breath. Laurent would have to be a fool to miss the implications of the gift. Veretian territory or not, it was to the Akielon King that this offering catered. Giving slaves to Laurent (if he would accept them, which Damen seriously doubted) was a respectful but necessary formality to avoid offense by omission.

"Your Highness has an excellent eye," Nereus said. "That is one of our most promising selections. Isander will serve you well."

"Your finest yet, Nereus," Damen agreed, knowing that this boy was probably hanging on their every word. Damen hung on Laurent's, ready to step in if anything should go awry. Surely Laurent would not be unkind to them after what he'd said this morning?

Edited 2017-02-19 01:20 (UTC)

"Come stand by me," Laurent invited the youth, as he returned to his place at Damen's side.

He lifted an eloquent brow at Damen, expecting him to make his own choice. He was fully prepared to harshly judge whatever course of action Damen chose. It was a test, and while he hoped that Damen would come up with a creative solution, he did not expect it.

"Are all the rest for you, or are you expected to simply choose one or two?" Laurent asked, dancing on the edge of acceptable propriety for both cultures, and making Damen's situation all the more challenging.

Damen raised an eyebrow. The invitation was unexpected from Laurent; his choice was surely deliberate. Damen had no idea what game he was playing, but he felt compelled to counter however he could. In response to Laurent's call, the young man rose and glided to his side with the most elegant humility, still trembling with joy.

The question earned a knitting of the dark brows. He chose his words carefully. "We are King, and we may choose as many as we like. Even none. Although that would be a slight to our friend's generosity." These slaves were worth a small fortune each; to refuse to accept even one would be to turn down a truly Kingly gift. He could not afford to offend Akielon allies when not all agreed with the new King's treaty, or marriage.

He knew, too, that certain slaves were hand-picked to suit the tastes of the royal line, trained and cultivated for years upon years to be presented for a First Night. He felt sure that there was one such here, a young man with creamy skin, softly tumbled curls of a honeyed hue, and a limber yet simple posture. Even prostrate, his loveliness was evident. All that was known of Damen's preferences seemed to be combined in this one youth.

"Erasmus," Nereus said, and Damen looked guiltily at him, forced himself not to look at Laurent. He hadn't realized he'd been staring. "I have never seen one so eager to serve."

"Indeed? Erasmus, did you hope to be chosen tonight?"

Addressed directly, the boy raised his head, flushing all over, eyelids drooping respectfully downward, but everything about him blooming under the attention. He looked very much like an Akielon interpretation of Laurent's beauty. He knelt in front of the others, lips parted in a bow as rosy as his fair cheeks. "Exalted, this slave is beneath your attention." He was too well-trained to look at the King, but it would be obvious to all the Akielons watching that he'd been cultivated to the King's exact tastes.

It would be cruel to turn him away. But Damen knew Laurent was watching to see what he would do. Testing him.

Several moments passed. Nereus shifted on his feet, awaiting the King's pleasure. Damen thought rapidly, judging what would be kindest to all concerned.

Finally he spoke, looking first at Laurent. "Tonight belongs to our husband. But Erasmus may attend us at the entertainments this evening, if he wishes." He nodded at the kneeling young man. "Join us?"

There would be no First Night for Erasmus tonight, but he would have the honor of serving the King, at least.

It was, by a significant margin, the most excruciating dinner that Laurent had ever endured.

He felt half sick with jealousy and disgust at the slave by Damen's side. A human crafted to have no thought in his head but Damen's pleasure. Designed to Damen's tastes.

A miserable part of Laurent hated that most of all, the knowledge that this was what Damen wanted, and that Laurent was the one who was only the pale, frigid interpretation of Damen's preferences.

The only way he could function at all was to utterly ignore the presence of Damen's slave. He focused his attention on his own, treating him the way that the Veretians treated their pets. They did not bother to converse, as Laurent's conversation was expected other places around the table, but he accepted the food that the slave offered him, and he offered morsels in return.

He could not entirely ignore Erasmus, and every soft murmur from him sent agony through Laurent.

When Laurent couldn't stand it any longer, he leaned in toward Damen, catching his husband's lips in a kiss and lingering there, signaling to Damen and to the rest of the world that he wanted to be taken back to their private chambers.

The change between them was palpable.

Damen was not in any doubt as to why. Laurent's disgust was well known to him, though his own state of confliction was much more mild. Slaves had been a daily part of Damen's life for twenty-five years; it still felt like a normal state to him, except when his thoughts flickered back to Laurent's story this morning.

Still, he curled his fingers under the table as he watched the attention Laurent was paying to the boy who looked like him. There were no more flirtations with Damen, no coy glances or kisses the way he'd been at breakfast. His chest burned to claim Laurent's full focus once more, to slide a possessive arm around him and declare his own wishes with his body.

Hadn't he been plain about it? Hadn't he openly declared that Laurent would have the exclusive right to his bed tonight? But it had been for naught. He felt sick, knowing what was to come if they did share a bed, the agonizing game of reconciliation and affection and repulsion, in that order. He thought longingly of Laurent opening for him as Erasmus undoubtedly would, yielding to him, trembling under his claiming touches, lavishing him with soft kisses afterwards and not just before.

Beside him, he could feel the quiet longing in Erasmus' body for those things, the wistfulness with which his fingers left whisper-kisses across Damen's lips as he offered him bites to eat, the utter sweetness of his submission. On any other night of Damen's life, the conclusion of that evening would have been inevitable.

The message in Laurent's actions was clear. Its future outcome was entirely unknown.

It took all of Damen's will-power to accept the farce of Laurent's affection and deny himself the sweet certainty that Erasmus' would have brought him. The cruelest irony was that it was Laurent's that he wanted.

His arms encircled his husband, tightened around him. He stood up, bringing Laurent with him, their mouths still twined, Damen's hand curled behind Laurent's neck. There was no need to announce this time. They could go as they liked, and everybody would know why.

Keeping an arm around Laurent's waist, as he had last night, Damen turned to descend. His heart ached for the hopeful young man who had served him all evening as he thanked him for his attendance and dismissed him. Erasmus might have looked forward to this night for half of his life. But what else could he do, if he had even the slightest chance to win Laurent's heart?

Laurent felt as though he was in a daze. He returned the kisses, feeling sick with each one, and went with Damen back to their rooms, unspeaking, trailed politely by the two puzzled slaves.

The moment they were safely through the door, Laurent snarled and shoved away from Damen, pacing to the center of the antechamber for the space and air he needed. His skin was crawling. "Sit," he snapped, voice sharp and hands shaking, though he fisted them to hide it. "All three of you. Separately."

Pacing back and forth as he recovered himself, Laurent swept a table clear of ornamentation as he passed, leaving shattered crystal and tattered flowers in the wake of his temper.

After a minute he sat, glaring down Isander with an icy fury that made the poor boy tremble and look around himself in confusion.

He was going about this all wrong.

Laurent dropped his face into his hand, taking a moment to compose himself back into the sensible and commanding prince who could handle this situation. "Forgive me, Isander," he said, gently. "I have a visceral dislike for the practice of slavery, under any conditions. From this moment, you may consider yourself freed." Laurent lifted a finger to forestall any objection. "Don't react. Listen. These are your options. If you would like to be apprenticed or trained for any profession, I will cover the full cost of your training. Anything you would like to study, you may. Or, if you would prefer to capitalize upon the training you've already received, you may open a salon as a courtesan. I understand that courtesans are not uncommon in Akielos, and many of them are very highly paid and sought-after. If that is your preference, I will again cover the cost of you establishing yourself. Or, if you'd like, you may remain in my personal retinue as a servant. You will be paid a generous wage, and provided ample time to yourself to rest and spend leisure time. You do not have to decide immedaitely. If you prefer to think about what sort of education you'd like to pursue, you may take as much time as you like, and I will consider you a servant in my household until you make up your mind. Is that all quite clear?"

It was the first time Damen had ever been spoken to in such a fashion. His pride flared, and anger for the way Laurent was taking out his fit of temper on their innocent slaves boiled hot and stormy.

He did not sit. Laurent's violent pacing kept his focus. At the sweeping gesture, he moved instinctively in the path of the flying ornaments lest they hurtle at Erasmus or Isander. "Remember yourself," Damen said with steel in his voice. They were not alone; Laurent had chosen to bring these boys into the web of their discord, and the submissive slaves were ill-prepared to deal with such abuse.

The sudden snap back to abject kindness, to opportunities afforded to only the most beloved and dutiful of slaves, left him in a state of shock. He took a careful seat. His eyes never left Laurent.

Isander looked terrified, and the shock on his face was understandable to Damen. When had anyone ever heard of a bed slave being treated this way? The poor youth stammered for an answer. "E-exalted, this slave lives for your wishes. All is clear." He did not look as though a single bit of it was clear.

Damen thought carefully. Laurent had forced his hand, going about it this way. He nodded at Erasmus. "You will be given the same choices, of course. Whatever you wish for most, the resources of the Crown will make possible." His voice softened as he added, "If it is possible." He knew how extensively these hand-chosen slaves were groomed for one master. Erasmus would have been trained in the specific art of pleasuring Damianos. If that was what his heart desired most...Damen knew that was going to be a problem.

Erasmus made a similar reply, flushing beautifully, lashes sweeping over his silk-smooth cheeks as he expressed his gratitude and wish for service. Damen wondered what the two of them were thinking, how long it had been since they had dreamt of anything but their future master's pleasure.

"The servant quarters are through that door," Laurent said, indicating the door to the rooms for the Consort's retinue, as he expected his Veretian servants to be more capable of swiftly accepting Laurent's whims. "They'll see to it that you're given every comfort you require. No service will be expected of you for the next two days. I'd like to recommend that you use the time to visit the castle's library, or visiting the town as free citizens of Akielos and guests of Vere. You'll be provided with spending money. Leave us now."

Laurent knew he'd forced Damen's hand, and could only feel glad for it. His jealousy stung and his sense of righteousness was still in a state of high temper.

When the slaves had gone, Laurent dropped his head, feeling drained and knowing he might have just earned Damen's temper for himself after that little performance. "Changing your mind about beating me?" Laurent asked, trying to make his tone light, but all he felt was exhaustion.

Damen could have wrestled twenty men and not felt as exhausted as he felt at this precise moment. He tipped his head back against the cushions of the couch, eyeing Laurent from the corner of his gaze.

"You couldn't make any of this simple for me, could you." It was not a question. Laurent was here to complicate his life. That was his sole purpose, Damen had decided.

His anger at Laurent had faded in the wake of the kind actions - more than kind - he had bestowed upon Isander, but Damen's personal weariness and longing for a night of pure, uncomplicated affection left him feeling hollow and lonely.

"Where will you spend the night?" There was no artifice in the question. He needed to know how to plan, he could never stop planning around Laurent. He thought longingly of curling up with a soft, pliant body, a spill of fair hair across his shoulder. His face might have betrayed that longing.

Damen sounded as tired as Laurent felt. It brought a tiny smile to his face, feeling reassured that Damen's primary emotion at the moment wasn't anger at him.

"What could I have done that would have made that any simpler?" Laurent asked, rising from his chair and coming over to sit beside Damen on the couch. He approached carefully, wary of displeasing his husband now. All of Laurent's fury and righteousness was reserved for furthering the interests of the people he was duty-bound to serve. He had none left for himself. Resting his head on Damen's shoulder, Laurent hooked an arm lightly over Damen's chest. "Slavery is not a simple thing, and to diminish its hold on your country, should you decide to do so, will be a laborious and lengthy ordeal. Or are you just disappointed that I'm here and poor Erasmus has been banished from your bed? I felt like I was wrenching a puppy away from its master, from the eyes he was giving you." Laurent scowled, still jealous.

"That's just it. You couldn't be yourself if you...held back all of your maddening plots." Damen didn't sound angry, though. He watched Laurent come to him with a more open gaze at him. He should feel wary; all he could feel was weary.

Somehow, Laurent was leaning against his shoulder; somehow, Damen's arm was slipping around his shoulders, holding him there lightly. He craved just such an embrace too much to put up his guard right now.

"Not...disappointed. I spoke truly before. It's you I want in my bed." Tentatively, Damen turned to brush his lips to Laurent's temple. "This you. I...dread another night like last night. Or this morning." He didn't say it, but the possessive tone of Laurent's words, and that pouting scowl as though he were the only one who should be making eyes at Damen, pleased him inordinately.

"If I didn't want to win you, I would have let Erasmus have his night."

When his approach was received with an embrace, Laurent relaxed a little more, hooking his legs over Damen's lap and nestling against him, enjoying the affection and starting to trust that Damen's affection was his for the asking, whenever he desired it.

His nose wrinkled at the image of Erasmus having his night at all, whether Damen wanted to win him or no. He objected to it on multiple counts, but managed to restrain himself from itemizing them.

"You have my word that--with the exception of any threats I might encounter to my own person--all of my maddening plots will be henceforth conducted to further your own interests or for the good of your people. I know you may not believe it, but my loyalty now is first to the people of Akielos, then to you, then to the peace and welfare of my homeland."

Laurent offered up his wrist. "Help me out of these laces."

It...was. His for the asking. Time and again, Laurent had turned savagely on him, and yet here he was again, welcoming the closeness of him into his lap, letting him curl up against his chest as they both seemed to crave. Damen let out a sigh. He was a fool. This would only end badly. But he could not say no to what his heart and body so eagerly wished for.

"That is...admirable." Damen wished he could believe him. He could almost believe that Laurent had the good of Akielos at heart. Loyalty to himself seemed a very chancy thing at present. "I look forward to seeing this new allegiance."

He touched the linchpin lace and gave it a skilled tug. Damen's breath made whorls of Laurent's bangs. "You didn't answer my question." Loosening one wrist was a matter of seconds now. He found the other, did the same.

"You have seen this new allegiance," Laurent said, submissively offering the other wrist when Damen reached for it. "You just don't like it. I'm offering you my loyalty and my honesty, Damen, not my obedience. I think you have too many people who do the opposite. Sometimes I will be selfish and temperamental and vindictive, but understand that since I have the freedom to be unpleasant to you, when I am pleasant to you it is motivated by nothing other than my desire and affection for you."

Smiling tentatively, Laurent nipped at the side of Damen's lip. "Which question? About me spending the night? With my husband, I think, if he'll have me. My honorable and long-suffering husband, who is so breathtakingly handsome."

Unfortunately for Laurent, Damen still couldn't take him at face value. Laurent seemed to delight in upending his heart, turning on him in an instant, after he'd yielded body and soul to the seemingly honest affection and desire that Laurent swore he gave him.

He touched the laces at Laurent's neck. "You have the freedom. But do not think me made of stone." For someone with such power and sheer physical capability, Damen knew his heart was his weak spot. And Laurent knew it too. Break it, and Laurent would find himself in a far less desirable place than he was now.

The flattery made him uncomfortable, though the kisses were sought-out. "I..." He exhaled, like he was about to confess something very secret. "I would like to sleep beside you tonight. Hold you even. Whatever we do, that seems to me an admirable goal." He placed a hand over Laurent's thigh as he tugged loose the tightly laced tunic. "Even I grow tired of constantly holding you at bay, Laurent."

"Shall we make an effort to be chaste tonight?" Laurent suggested, lifting his chin to let Damen unravel the laces at his throat. "I think it might benefit us both to... to simply share intimacy and affection. As much as I desire you."

His fingertips skimmed over Damen's chest, admiring him, as Laurent nestled a little closer, only shifting as much as necessary to remove the rest of his clothing. "I am also not made of stone, Damen. I'm in a vulnerable position, entirely at your mercy, and I am not accustomed to exposing my emotions or desires."

That was an understatement, and Laurent knew it. Sitting up, Laurent pulled the tunic over his head, discarding it to one side. He studied it on the floor for a moment, feeling a wash of vulnerability at the confession, and wanting desperately to conceal it.

"That depends on your definition of chaste." Damen half-smiled, pleased by the honest admission, the knowledge that Laurent desired him. "Intimacy and affection do not sound entirely chaste to me. But..."

He lost his train of thought in the swirl of fingers over his chest, the pale perfection of Laurent's bare torso. With difficulty, Damen drew his focus back to the words which he knew were important, coming from Laurent. He considered the truth of them. For the Prince to even acknowledge his own vulnerability seemed incredible to him. Was it merely a trap? Was it possible that Laurent had kept his promise to be honest with him within this room?

"It will take time," Damen said, touching Laurent's face softly. "For us to understand one another. To no longer wound at every turn. It will come." Or they would fall apart entirely, and the truth would prevail.

And yet for as long as Laurent wished to try, Damen did too. His hand strayed to Laurent's chest. "Bed. Before you lose any more clothing." Damen sounded...the faintest bit...jealous...that Isander might wander out at any moment and see Laurent in such a scandalous state of undress. Nevermind that that was the very thing he had been trained for. Damen's eyes were greedy for his monk-like husband's body, divested of its usual neck-to-toe garments.

To that end, he stood, not carrying Laurent this time but inviting him with an arm about his waist and a gesture towards the bedroom door.

"I thought you liked me without clothing," Laurent teased, completely missing the jealousy because it would never have occurred to him that Isander might return or that he--or anyone else--could be competition for Damen.

Moving to the bedroom, Laurent slid his arms up around Damen's neck, wanting to kiss him properly, since they'd spent the past day with only hurried, false kisses. "Damen," he murmured, nuzzling briefly at Damen's cheek before turning his head to claim his husband's lips. He pressed close, chasteness forgotten in his desire for the intimacy and affection that Damen offered.

"I like you dressed for the occasion. Alone in our bedroom is a good occasion for nudity." Damen's gaze made free with the elegantly exposed lines of Laurent's shoulders, his chest, the lean flat planes of his stomach. Lingered on the pink tips of his nipples. Damen wasn't taking the chaste suggestion too literally either.

The weariness, the loneliness, the craving he'd felt for affection, all made themselves known as he felt warm breath on his cheeks, and then on his lips. Damen bent his head. Tilted it. Lapped at Laurent's mouth hungrily, like he'd been starving all day for the realness of this kiss. One hand cupped Laurent's face like water in his hand, drawn up to his mouth. His body inclined towards Laurent, more and more each times their lips renewed their contact.

Damen kissed like he needed it. Because he did.

He didn't try to touch or provoke anything further. Just folded Laurent to his chest and sighed against his mouth. Dark curls tickled Laurent's cheeks, Damen leaning in deeper.

Our bedroom. Laurent liked the sound of that. Liked the implication that he had a place here, and that Damen wanted him as part of his life.

Winding one hand into Damen's hair and keeping the other pressed against Damen's broad chest, Laurent returned the kiss, sweet and sincere, following Damen's lead without offering any challenge this time. He was tired of fighting. He just wanted to trust to Damen, and to the sense of Damen's honor that he was starting to understand.

Whimpering very softly against Damen's lips, Laurent pressed close against him, craving the feeling of safety and affection that Damen provided.

This was the point where things usually...escalated. Damen's body knew it too. It was his mind that kept him in control right now, if just barely, feeling the pliant flow of Laurent's body against his own. The awareness of it brought delight, for it meant a reprieve to his physical loneliness and a renewal of the open-hearted affection he'd received in small doses from the changeable Prince.

(If only Damen didn't fuck it up tonight.)

The sound of Laurent's whimper was tucked away into the corners of Damen's mouth. He treasured it as something strangely needy from Laurent, even if he didn't yet know quite what Laurent needed. He hoped, perhaps naively, it was him.

Backing up a few steps, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and drew Laurent with him, to sit however he liked in his lap. Even sitting, Damen was an unavoidable presence, his breadth simply spread out in different ways.

Laurent slid to straddle Damen's lap, thighs pressed on either side of his hips. He hugged his arms around Damen's shoulders, tucking his face against the side of Damen's neck and just hugging tight for a few minutes. "I'm tired," he said, offering that small piece of vulnerability to Damen. "I feel like I've been exhausted since I reached Marlas."

Damen was so warm, so solid and safe. Laurent let his eyes shut and his breathing slow, trusting himself entirely to Damen.

Damen settled the welcome weight of Laurent around him with a quiet sigh of contentment. He'd rarely felt Laurent so relaxed, the looseness of his body tangible against Damen's own. It seemed a proof of trust of him. So did the confession.

Approvingly, he stroked one big hand slowly up and down Laurent's spine. It was strangely comforting, offering him comfort without aiming for anything more. Damen was aware of the smoothness of the skin beneath his fingers, the heartbreaking fineness of the bones, the muscles that were so often tensed, things he would have noticed in a sensual context too, but it was different this way. It meant learning Laurent for his own sake, not as part of any seduction.

Damen's chest rose and fell against the slim torso finding refuge there. He found he loved being the one Laurent turned to for this. He hoped to the ends of the earth it wasn't a trick.

"Then rest," he murmured, and his lips traced the curve of Laurent's brow. "Take what you need." His arms tightened around Laurent. For one night, he would shut out the rest of the world and let them just breathe with each other.

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