marlowemuses | This will be happily ever after...

After lunch, Laurent went to his glowering husband, greeting him with an arched brow and a kiss. Even if Damen was being comedically unpleasant, Laurent couldn't allow it to be thought that they were quarreling. He pressed close, sliding his arms up around Damen's shoulders and giving him a wickedly seductive look, all mostly for the benefit of the retinue around them.

"What?" Laurent asked him, soft and taunting, for Damen's ears only. "Is that the face you make when you haven't had an orgasm in a whole day?"

Given how pointedly Laurent had been ignoring him, Damen couldn't have been more surprised by the public affectionate greeting than if Laurent had stripped naked for him on the spot. (Given how many eyes were on them, eyes that had recently been in flirtation exchange with the Veretian prince, Damen definitely preferred the more chaste display.)

And now, he was flirting with the man he should have been all along - his husband. The dark-haired King looked at Laurent with confusion across his features, until his wicked consort opened his mouth. Damen's abruptly snapped shut. Whatever he was about to say was swept utterly astray. All he wanted was for the affectionate, trusting man he'd had in his bed so recently to be with him on this journey, instead of this...dangerous stranger.

"It's the face I make when I start to wonder if I've married a whore masquerading as a prince," he grumbled.

Hurt surprise flickered briefly in Laurent's eyes, though he hid it quickly enough, drawing his arms away from Damen. It was a surprisingly sharp accusation, especially considering that Laurent had done nothing to earn it. He would have preferred being struck across the face by his new husband in front of their audience.

Whore.

Stung deeply, Laurent took a step back and turned, keeping his spine straight and his face cooly impassive to hide his reeling pride. Options and retorts spun through his head, limited by his knowledge that they were very much on display.

Pretend that we're in love. Laugh it off and make an excuse to get some air.

"Then don't fear you'll ever need to be troubled again by a whore in your bed, my king," Laurent hissed, letting the hurt rage show on his face, even though the rest of the camp wouldn't know what it was that had caused the quarrel.

His horse was only a few paces distant, ready to go, though the business of packing up after lunch was only half done. Laurent loosed the reins and mounted in two swift movements, putting heels to his horse and taking off down the road. He didn't much care where he was going, as long as he didn't have to spend the next minutes looking at Damen's face.

Laurent couldn't quite conceal how deep the sting had found its mark. Damen didn't enjoy hurting him, but there was a small part of him that was vindictively satisfied that Laurent knew exactly what sort of feelings his actions had stirred up in Damen. Hurt, betrayal, confusion. He could tell by the proud set of Laurent's posture that he had touched a nerve.

But it had not been the right way to go about that. Damen knew it even before Laurent's furious hiss, and the sudden retreat that followed. For a moment, Damen felt too stunned by the abruptness of it all to know what to do.

There was no way he couldn't go after Laurent.

The King's horse was fast for his size, and ready for the slightest whim of his rider. Damen set off down the road at a gallop. He hadn't the faintest idea what he was going to say to Laurent when he caught up with him. Plan or no plan, Laurent had been flaunting himself to other men. It was shameful to his new position, and made Damen seem a cuckold. But then, Damen had not asked him to explain what he was up to, either.

His thoughts remained a flurry as he rode, and he could think of nothing but finding Laurent and getting to the bottom of this.

Laurent was the better rider, and he knew he could outride Damen, even if the terrain was unfamiliar. But as the initial flash of rage faded, all that was left was hurt.

He'd let himself believe Damen could be kind. That Damen might even trust him. Love him.

That was folly.

Drawing up, Laurent let Damen catch up to him, expression icy to conceal his vulnerability. He kept his grip on the reins taut, far too skittish to let Damen come anywhere near grabbing distance. "Come to fetch back your whore, my king? Perhaps you ought to have brought chains to remind me of my station."

Damen drew his horse to a halt, aware that Laurent had let him approach. That was something at least. He came within speaking distance, although he could see that Laurent was poised to flee again and knew he must choose his words well.

"I came," he said plainly, "to fetch back my husband. And to ask him what I should have asked him before." There was a heaviness to Damen's expression that suggested his wrath of before had not been entirely subdued, though it was muted considerably by the concern and solicitude he felt at Laurent's flight. He had to wonder if any of this had been in Laurent's plan when he'd first started making his rounds today.

"Will you hear my question?"

It wasn't exactly an apology, but it was at least an opening to parlay, and included the possibility of finding out what--if anything--had goaded Damen into speaking so cruelly. Laurent's pride and temper warred with his duty, his eternal struggle of trying to curb his tongue.

"Is it about my price, your highness?" Laurent asked, acerbic, though he was at least staying to listen rather than fleeing further. "I thought you'd already learned that I won't be fucked for anything less than a kingdom."

His price? Damen stared at him, astounded. Did Laurent think he actually considered him as bought property? Perhaps you ought to have brought chains to remind me of my station. It was preposterous. Laurent was a Prince in his own right. He was Prince Consort of Akielos now. Damen's equal in every way. And yet he seemed to think Damen had some sort of power over him.

It was the other way around, he thought with a sigh.

"There is not a price on your heart, Laurent," Damen said, and his eyes were dark and piercing on the bright-haired figure. "Nor on your thoughts. But they are hidden from me, and I cannot read them as I would wish. And so I must ask rather than guess what is in them. It would have served us both better than that term, I think." He could see that now, and it was the closest he'd come to an apology yet.

"Theron believed you acted purposefully today, in your...attentions to certain of our company. Is there forethought in this, a plan of some sort?" With Laurent on the defensive now, Damen feared he would receive less of the truth this way than he would have if he'd gentled his words and sought Laurent's confidence from the beginning. Then again, maybe Laurent would have told him nothing from the start; perhaps he had been trying to stir Damen up, or conjure an excuse to leave.

Laurent stared in return, bewildered. Damen was clearly trying so hard to speak carefully and eloquently, but it only produced gibberish. "My attentions?" he repeated, flabbergasted by the seeming insinuation in the term.

Confused and betrayed, Laurent stared at him, heart chilling as he made sense of it. "You called me a whore because I was making friends?"

Attentions was a kind way to put it, Damen had thought. He frowned, forcing himself to temper the hot words that sprang to mind. Some words he would not be able to undo, once they were put out in the open.

"To my eyes, it seemed more than friendly," he said, with deliberate calmness. "Perhaps it was your coolness towards me this morning that made me judge your actions towards others more warmly than I might have otherwise. Had I thought you were merely making friends..."

Damen was rapidly running out of his hard-fought self control, and made an inarticulate gesture of helplessness, a shake of his head, as if frustrated with both himself and his husband's abstruseness and the entire predicament they'd found themselves in. His horse, ever attuned to his gestures, found itself very confused by this new one. The obedient beast gave a little step and paw of a one front hoof, questioningly.

Now Laurent understood what violation Damen thought he had committed. The understanding did nothing to cool Laurent's temper.

"So what?" he asked, sharp and a little cruel, because he wasn't anywhere near ready to forgive. "What would it matter if I was more than friendly?" He nudged his horse closer now, all challenge as he faced Damen down. "If I invited your soldiers to take their pleasure of me one after the other in the middle of the camp? You wouldn't have called me whore if you didn't think that I would."

That's what stings. That Damen thinks he would. That the only man he's ever slept with thinks that Laurent's about to suck every Akielon cock in the province.

Laurent was twisting the knife in, and Damen had to curl his hand tightly around the reins to find a measure of deliberation. His horse was sensing his agitation, stamping and tossing its head as the other beast came closer. Damen held him steady, chin raised proudly.

"I still do not know you well," Damen said, feeling the truth of that all too keenly. "I didn't know what you were planning to do with all these conquests. Surely not to betray me before my very eyes - I did not believe that you capable of that."

He could see that Laurent was still hung up on the word he'd bitterly jested with. Damen was not so very far from the feelings that had drawn it out of him in the first place. The coldness, the distance ever since they'd made love. And now this favor bestowed on everybody but himself. Damen looked troubled. "These were not the actions I expected from my newly wedded husband. I did not think I would need to fight for his affections anew."

Damen's stony determination not to rise to the bait helped blunt the edges of Laurent's temper a little. Damen was trying, at least, even if he was an idiot.

"You might try not fighting for my affections," Laurent snapped, though at least his tone was only vinegar, not venom. "And you clearly did believe such betrayal. Am I to suffer this indignation every time I dare to speak warmly to anyone other than yourself? If I smile at a peasant girl, which one of us will you have whipped?"

"Would you prefer that I do not care to fight for them?" Damen could feel the blood pounding hotly in his veins, straining for a release of some kind. It took all his considerable control to remain still and upright in the saddle, when all his instincts were to fight for exactly that. "That I care nothing for whom you speak to, what you say to them? I am not trying to curtail your freedom in these things, Laurent. I am trying to understand why you show my generals and councillors more courtesy than you show your husband. If you can explain that to me, I will beg your forgiveness and interfere no longer with your plans."

He was trying. The feelings of betrayal were hard ones to overcome; they left him reluctant to take the blame for his actions under the circumstances. But he was trying to understand Laurent's perspective, what little of it he could perceive. That he saw Damen as having power over him, willing to believe the worst of him and punish him for it. It was so far-fetched, Damen could scarcely know how Laurent could truly believe such a thing, but then Laurent didn't know him very well yet either.

"I should show them more courtesy than I show you," Laurent said, glaring, though his willingness to explain rather than exchange barbed words was increasing, because Damen was trying to understand and trying to rein his temper. "And you should want that. I'll always give your courtiers and nobles more honeyed words than I give you. I thought I'd made that clear. I've promised you my honesty, and you've learned well that isn't a pleasant thing."

Sighing with frustration, Laurent pulled up alongside, willing to be Damen's ally once again. "You remember what I told you about being suspicious of people who only ever have honeyed words for you? So you oughtn't be jealous when I am sweet to others. I'm trying to make friends, to gain sway in the court, to learn the strengths and weaknesses of the people who will be close to us, the people who ensure our safety and govern our kingdom."

That...wasn't how things were done in Akielos, Damen wanted to protest. The King deserved the most honor of all men. He forced himself to consider the implications of what Laurent was saying. That Laurent's favor - what he called honeyed words - would be spent on others; that the true courtesy was the honesty that he had asked for from Laurent. It seemed simple when put thus, but Damen knew from this morning that watching it first-hand was going to be a much different story.

He watched Laurent draw near, next to him. Symbolic? Something in Damen's face registered the struggle that he was going through, weighing the admirable goals Laurent named with the concerns that they both still held. It was one of the final words that tipped the balance towards a softening of the stoic features, the shadow of a smile. "The way you say our is the best thing I've heard all day."

Damen toyed with the reins in his hands. There was so much he still had to say to Laurent. He did not know if this was the time or the place for it. A small confession, at least. "It is very easy to tell me not to be jealous," he said quietly. "Harder to tell the heart to be at ease when it longs to enjoy its new-found happiness, and instead another does so." His eyes were wistful on Laurent's. He waited, waited to see whether this vulnerability would be treated gently or not, before he would reveal any other layers to it.

Laurent blushed at Damen's comment about saying "our". Surprise flickered openly over his face before he schooled his features back under guard. "You might remember where I'll be spending the nights, in regards to who will be 'enjoying' me."

His tone was cool and aloof, but at least the venom had gone from it. "You're the only person in all of Akielos who enjoys the honor of my honesty, Damen. We're both public figures. Everything we do is studied, analyzed, gossiped over. We must play our roles in public, no matter our personal affections or quarrels. I must be the social and charming consort, with half the court in love with me and almost all of them thinking that I can be a trusted ear for their troubles. Occasionally I may even disdani you in public, to draw traitors into thinking that I may be swayed or that there's a fracture between us to be exploited."

Studying Damen's eyes, Laurent moves a little closer, close enough to touch. "That is a consort's role, Damen. Not simply to be pretty and doting. I need you to understand that and to trust that whatever games I play are for the safety of the kingdom. If you want to question me, then you can do it when we're alone."

Damen's gaze lingered on the red that bloomed beneath Laurent's pale cheeks, and the surprise at his rather tender confession. A spark of hope fluttered in his chest, well-buried. Damen's lips parted, and then closed. There was an answering glow in his own face, thinking of the nights behind them, the night ahead of him. If he didn't completely ruin it now. "It never hurts to remind me."

What Laurent had to say wasn't easy to hear. But it was honest, and it was a clear picture into Laurent's purposes. Damen's logical side was grateful for that, for Laurent could just have easily kept his intentions to himself and left Damen to wonder what he was really up to. It occurred to the Akielon King that Laurent really was treating this as a partnership, and him as a partner. It wouldn't work if they weren't honest with each other.

Damen steadied his horse with one hand as he reached out, very gently, to touch his fingers to Laurent's forearm. "I begin to understand. I will make the effort. I - would like to tell you, when we are alone, what makes it hard for me to trust." He stroked Laurent's sleeve the way he would a skittish horse, only making contact when his movements weren't rebuffed. "Perhaps you will understand me more too." And why there was still a flicker of hurt behind Damen's eyes to watch his husband make free with others at the neglect of his own newly-wedded attention.

Laurent twitched his arm away, wary of the touch. Damen wasn't forgiven, all the more so because he hadn't asked for forgiveness.

"You might all the more remember that you have no right to my affections, regardless of how charming I may or may not be towards others. My behavior in public will always be a matter of diplomacy and courtly negotiation. My behavior toward you in private is my own choice. You want to be reminded of my affections three times an hour, with me simpering upon you like one of your bedslaves, and any less you'll take as evidence that I'm unfaithful?" Laurent's lip curled, irritated that his need for space and his attempts to make allies had led to such an acutely unpleasant scene as the one Damen had caused. "Get used to sleeping alone."

The pull away from him struck Damen hard and where it hurt. The words that followed were little surprise after that, but they still had the power to hurt more. Damen's temper couldn't take it any longer. He sat bolt upright and yanked his horse to backup from Laurent's, facing him head on. His poor mount felt the tension in him and prepared for some warlike action that didn't come. The effort for them to both keep still was tremendous.

"No right. No right? Did I sign a different contract than you?" Damen was almost helpless with impotent anger, the worst of it because he knew he had only himself to blame for seeking a man with this cold approach to their union. "Do you want word getting back to Arlas that the new Prince of Akielos openly scorns his husband and favors other men instead? That he's banned the King from his bed not a week into the marriage? Is this your statecraft?"

His voice grew as his frustrated passions led him to a perilous brink. "I do not ask much of you, Laurent. Only that you treat me as a husband and not a - a King on your chessboard to shove away until convenient."

Laurent watched him coldly, heart aching at the insults. There was evidently no use speaking passionately toward Damen. If this was nothing but a contract between them, that would be easier. "If I had any choice in my husband, I would have chosen a kind and honorable man, not one who treats me like his paid whore."

Eyes cold and voice flat, Laurent tightened his grip on the reins. "You need have no worries about my duty, sir. I will obey the terms of the contract and serve the interests of Akielos as its Consort. Let the world think it's a marriage of convenience. I find I've lost my taste for pretending otherwise."

Damen's face turned stony. He would not show Laurent how pointedly those words found their mark, how much he dreamed of being that kind and honorable husband, to love and to be loved, and how deeply it cut to be branded everything Laurent didn't want. He'd already offered too much of his heart this day, only to be met by coldness and rejection.

So. This was how it was to be, then. There would be no joyful reunions in their tent tonight, or any night. A marriage of convenience, a pretense. Damen had never felt so trapped. "If that is how you wish it to be," he said, and the flicker of hope was gone from his eyes and voice alike. If Laurent thought his affections not worth keeping, there seemed little point trying to pursue it further.

He turned back to camp, and informed them he'd be going on a hard ride up ahead with two of his guards. He needed to work off some of the pent-up turmoil, and since stopping to drill midday simply wasn't in the cards, Damen rode his frustrations out.

He didn't see Laurent again until nightfall when they made camp. Servants drew up the royal tent, and Damen watched from across the fires to see if Laurent would give an order for another tent to be drawn up for himself. How far would Laurent take this?

Laurent kept to himself for the rest of the day, speaking to no one unless he was directly addressed. He told himself a dozen times that he was a fool for being hurt, or for wanting Damen's respect. It was no surprise at all to discover that he was desirable but not lovable.

Damen probably deserved someone sweet and yielding. Laurent couldn't find it in himself to care. Akielos would be better served by him as he was. If Damen was stupid enough to want a trinket in place of a diplomat, then Laurent wanted nothing to do with him.

He entered the royal tent as soon as it was up, summoning his usual servant to aid him with his laces as he changed into his sleepwear. He tensed as Damen entered, but did not look up. "I thought I might exchange my Veretian clothing for Akielon, tomorrow, as a symbolic gesture. Unless you would prefer I keep the Veretian."

If he made the decision without Damen, he was sure that Damen would fly into another jealous rage over his showing too much skin.

Veretian sleepwear was just as covered as their daywear, Damen's eyes took it in with one sweeping glance over Laurent's body, knowing he would not be taking it off him. But they would share a tent at least, and Damen was considerably calmer now than he had been earlier in the day.

"I think they would like it," he said simply. It was wise of Laurent to prepare him for it, for Damen began mentally steeling himself for the sight of Laurent bare-thighed and bright-haired laughing and flirting with half of Akielon. It wouldn't be so bad, if Laurent would also stoop to laugh and flirt with him too.

Those days were over. Laurent had caught his prize, his kingdom, and now there were other prizes to be sought with his favors.

"It is your choice, of course," Damen added in a low voice, not looking at Laurent as he moved to pour a flagon of wine. There were two of them; he poured the second as well, and offered it to Laurent. Then he sank down on the pallet - two overlong ones that had been laid out side-by-side to form something near to the size of an Akielon bed that could accommodate the King and his partner - and stared at his wine. "I'm guessing this is not your only plan for tomorrow?"

Laurent ignored the wine, considering it to be too much of a risk. Too much of a temptation. If he started drinking, he wasn't sure he'd ever stop.

"No need for you to worry," Laurent said, hollow. "The other plans involve keeping my head down and not speaking to anyone."

He crossed to the bed, giving the coverlet a yank. It didn't move, caught under Damen's weight. Laurent fixed him with an icy glare. "Move."

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