The War Gift - part 2

In a moment’s time, the nation of Arten was left behind and Cailan found himself standing in an enclosed courtyard with the ten Cylandrean men.  It was a quiet space, with no one else around and warm from the heat of the day, but in a moment the quiet was broken with the excited and joyful energy of the dark-haired men.  Words of praise were offered to the king over the alliance, the end of the war, and hopes for the future. 

The cheerful voices were like poison in a wound to Cailan, but he remained where he was, silent and rigid in his new position at the side of his owner.  He startled slightly when a large hand took a gentle grip on his chin and his face was turned up to look into the eyes of his possessor.  He was surprised to see concern in Leader Jarek’s gaze.  The noise of the men around them ceased rather abruptly, and then King Alaric stood at his brother’s side, his eyes also reflecting a level of caring that Cailan didn’t expect.  Cailan met his gaze, not caring that he was now as much a concubine, a slave, as a blood-born prince.  The king showed no offense.  Instead he placed a heavy hand on Cailan’s shoulder and offered unexpected words.

“You are a brave one, Prince Cailan of Arten.  Try not to fear your life here.”

“I am not afraid,” Cailan stated, but even he heard the tremor in his voice.  It shamed him, but he did not break his gaze with the king until Leader Jarek’s hand moved from his chin to Cailan’s cheek, cupping it warmly.  Cailan gave his attention to his new owner, and for a moment felt taken in with the man’s shimmering hair and rich blue eyes. 

“Come with me, young one.  We will get you settled.”

Surprising him, Jarek removed the leather circlet from Cailan’s wrist and instead engulfed Cailan’s hand with his own.  He was led away from the group and brought through a door into the inner rooms of what Cailan now realized was the Cylandrean palace.  It barely registered that no other people crossed their path as Cailan took in walls with beautiful tapestries, and the show of wealth in each space they passed.  Sun shone in cheerily through large windows, making the rooms appear welcoming instead of intimidating.

In just a short time, Leader Jarek retrieved a key from within his clothing and unlocked a door.  It led to a short flight of stairs and then opened up into a large bedroom decorated in beautiful blues, silver and deep burgundy. 

Cailan’s throat caught, not so much at the exquisiteness of the space, but at the knowledge of what he’d soon be doing in that space and on the large bed within it.  Before he could panic though, he felt a squeeze on his hand and his was gently pulled to a door against a far wall.  On the other side was a bathing chamber.  Light spilled in from a clear glass ceiling, with aqua and teal mosaics reminding Cailan of the Ocean Nabra in his country.  Central in the room was a bathing pool built right into the floor.  Against the walls were several privately enclosed areas that Cailan could only guess what they held.

Neither he nor Leader Jarek had spoken since the courtyard, but now he was turned to face his owner, and again Jarek’s hand cupped his face, his eyes appearing to almost see through him for a moment before he spoke.

“You are a prince, and unused to taking orders I’d assume, but that is part of your life here.  I will not mistreat you, young one, but you will obey me.”

Cailan swallowed hard, his pride making him want to argue, but he understood what his duty was.  “Sir,” he said in acknowledgement, although he nearly choked on the word.

“In Cylandrea those in service refer to their overseers as “master” or “my lord”.  Do you understand?”

Cailan felt his face redden and his hands clenched.  His pride, his royal heritage, fought against using those words.  He was not a servant!  And yet, now that is what he was, a servant prince expected to fulfill a duty of obeisance instead of leadership.  “Yes,” he finally ground out.

“Yes what, little prince?” Jarek pushed gently, but the words felt like sandpaper on Cailan’s back.

“Yes, my lord,” he barely managed.

“Good lad,” Jarek praised, and oddly enough Cailan heard approval without haughtiness from the man.

He didn’t have time to over think that though, because in the next moment Jarek’s hands had moved to Cailan’s clothes and were undoing the bindings.  Instinctively, Cailan stepped back.  “What are you doing?!”

Jarek calmly closed the space between them as he answered, his hands returning to Cailan’s attire.  “I’m preparing to bathe you.  I don’t recommend climbing in with your clothes on.”

“I…I can undress myself,” Cailan contended, although he didn’t want to undress at all.

“I know that, petling,” Jarek said almost tenderly, “but it is not your choice.  Stand still, but stand tall.  I’m not shaming you; I’m taking care of you.”

Cailan did not understand that at all, but he stood with his shoulders back and head up, although his eyes couldn’t stop looking at Jarek as the man undressed him.  It was hard to determine the age of any of the Cylandreans, but Cailan assumed Jarek was ten to fifteen years his senior.  The silver shimmer in his black hair repeatedly caught the light of the sun through the clear ceiling, and Cailan was tempted to reach out and touch it.  It was beautiful.  He held himself back though, which proved easier than expected when his attention was redirected to the last of his clothing being removed.  He stood naked in front of his owner, and the shame of it, the knowledge he was no longer his own, caused him to drop his head.

“No petling,” Leader Jarek’s voice said softly, and two warm and calloused hands landed on his shoulders before sliding tenderly up his neck and cupping his face, forcing Cailan to raise his head.  “Do not look to the floor, Prince Cailan,” he murmured.  “There is no shame in your nakedness or your position in this house.  I promise that you are valued here.”

Cailan shook his head with Jarek’s hands still at his face, and much as he tried, he still felt the burning of tears threaten.  “My value has been taken from me.  I am a whored out prince, a prisoner of war.”

“No, sweet one,” Jarek insisted, his voice remained deep and calm.  “You have value you do not yet understand, and it has been given to us, to me, for safekeeping.  You are a gift from this war, not a prisoner of it, even if it feels like that right now.”

“How?” Cailan choked out.

“In time you’ll understand,” Jarek stated.  “I will help you.  For now, even if you trust nothing else, trust that I will not let harm come to you.  Give me your submission and I’ll help you find your way.”

*****

Cailan felt only more confused, but there was comfort in Jarek’s words and voice.  When the other man’s hands slid away from his face, Cailan kept his head up, although his body trembled slightly as his shoulders, arms and back were gently caressed. 

“Lovely,” Leader Jarek said huskily.  The word of praise warmed Cailan slightly, as did the fact that his owner refrained from touching him below the waist.  “Go to the bath,” Jarek directed after a minute.  “I will join you shortly.”

Cailan was unsure how he felt about that, but for now he did not believe there was a threat to him.  However, the covering of water was too tempting to ignore.  He moved quickly to the bathing pool, discovering with surprise that the water was soothingly hot.  It took some of his tension away, although a good bit of it returned when he heard a mild splash and looked to see Jarek entering the water.

The sight of the naked man was unexpected, and not just because of his nudity or the muscled virility of his body, but because of the unique skin that had been hidden under his clothing.  Across the toned flesh was a mixture a smooth, pale skin and a stunning array of purple swirls and stripes.  The two tones of flesh interweaved with each other from Jarek’s shoulders to his knees.  Cailan had never seen anything like it, or truly a body so beautiful as the sight in front of him.

The shock of what he saw had left his mouth gaping and his mind ignorant of just how close Jarek was getting to him.  The sound of the man’s chuckle and a finger lightly closing Cailan’s mouth made him blush.  It was impossible to pretend indifference, so Cailan merely looked into the man’s face and asked, “How?”

“How does a tiger have stripes or a leopard have spots, young prince?  It is simply a trait of my people.  Some have more, some less, but we are born with the start of our markings, and they grow with us as we grow.”

“I never knew,” Cailan floundered as Jarek guided them both to a seat in the bath and settled in.

“Few who are not Cylandrea-born know this trait of my people.  We are a private kind, but you are my concubine, my prince, and you will eventually know my body well.  I will not hide it from you.”

The reminder of what his duty would be was subduing and frightening.  He’d never been sexual with anyone, which was unusual for a near nineteen year old of Arten, but his silver-white hair caused a distance between him and the women in his world.  Despite his princely status, no woman wanted a man who was not seen as a warrior.

As far as men with men, it was a rare thing in Arten, and Cailan only knew the very basics of what it involved; but even that was enough for him to know he didn’t want it, not that he had a choice anymore.

Jarek must have been studying his face because he spoke softly and soothingly to Cailan.  “You need not fear our intimacy, little prince.  I will claim you, but I will not force you.”

Cailan blinked in surprise.  “But I thought….”

“That you are a concubine and expected to spread for me?  Yes, eventually that will be part of it.”

“But you said….”

“That I will not force you,” Jarek interrupted.  He slid an arm around Cailan’s shoulders and lightly pulled him to his side. 

Cailan stiffened in discomfort, but Jarek did nothing more than hold him and slowly Cailan accepted the embrace.  “I am duty-bound, my lord,” he stated, managing to use the appropriate term for Jarek without choking.  “I will do as expected, but being willing is…beyond me.”

“Perhaps.  We shall see what the future holds, petling,” Jarek stated, but the words left Cailan confused.

They were silent for a time, but then Jarek reached for a small box at the side of the bath and pulled out a sponge and soap with a scent that made Cailan think of forests and trees.  He didn’t know what to think when Jarek began to wash him with items, but he remained docile and allowed his owner the freedom to do as he pleased, although he instinctively pushed Jarek’s hands away when they moved to his private areas.

“No, please.  I can do it,” Cailan said breathlessly. 

“I know, but I’m going to,” Jarek replied.

He did no more than wash, and the sensation left Cailan rigid with an unexpected mix of mortification and arousal over the touch. 

When Jarek was done with his body, he filled his hand with a cream from a bottle and directed Cailan to wet his hair.  Obediently, if a little stiffly, Cailan did so, and then couldn’t help but relax as Jarek massaged the cream into his strands.

“You are beautiful, little prince,” Jarek said softly.  Not knowing how to respond to that, Cailan remained silent.

Jarek eventually rinsed the soap away, and then quickly bathed himself while Cailan tried not to look like he was watching too closely.  It was hard not to observe the larger man though.  The swirls of purple skin were truly breathtaking and amazing to watch how they livened his skin as Jarek moved.  And his owner’s hair, even wet, shimmered with that silver, starry quality. 

Once out of the bath, Jarek dried Cailan before drying himself, and then led Cailan back to the luxurious bedroom.  Despite Jarek promising no force, the sight of the bed and their mutual nudity made Cailan’s heart race with nerves.

He must have psyched himself out from everything else in the room as he faced that bed, because the next thing he knew, he was being guided into a soft robe. Jarek helped him into the lightweight but warm fabric, and Cailan noticed that his owner had dressed as well.  It helped to have the modesty of the clothing, and his heart calmed down a little.

Strangely it also helped when Jarek pulled him into his body in a tender embrace.  Cailan couldn’t bring himself to hug the man back, but the unexpected sense of safety he was being offered made him subconsciously lean into the bigger man.

“That’s right, petling,” Jarek murmured.  “No need to work yourself up.”

Cailan shuddered as confusion and the strangeness of his situation overwhelmed him.  “I don’t understand,” he confessed.

“I know, young prince, and there are no words to make you understand yet.  It will take time.”

“You’re not supposed to be nice,” Cailan said, and then felt horrified that the words had come out of his mouth.

The body embracing him shook with a chuckle.  “I know.  I’m supposed to be the enemy, the foe, the villain who steals your virtue and ruins your life.”

Cailan didn’t know how he could laugh at a time like this, but a chuckle burst out of him as he said, “Yes!”.

“Well, I hope it’s not a disappointment to learn otherwise, although I’m sure your confusion knows no end.  Make no mistake, Prince Cailan, there are consequences for disobedience should you make that choice.  I am harsh when it is necessary, but you will learn that precious things are cared for.”

Again, Jarek’s words did more to confuse Cailan than provide any answers, but the man was showing him kindness, and Cailan grasped onto that, hoping it would not prove to be a mistake later.

*****

Covered and feeling surprisingly better, Cailan did not hesitate when Jarek took his hand and brought him through another door.  They ended up in a lovely parlour.  Cailan’s nose caught the fragrant aroma of food, and from the corner of his eye he saw a table set for them, but his attention was instead held by the wall of books directly in front of him.  He was astonished.  From floor to ceiling and end to end, the entire wall was row upon row of books.  Reading had always been a pleasure to him, and the learning that went along with it made his mind buzz with ideas and energy.  But in Arten, book reading was seen as a pastime for the old and ill, and there was never much variety in what was offered.  Men with better things to do were not encouraged to read, so Cailan’s favored hobby was often done in secret.  To see such a vast array of leather bound volumes took his breath away.

Without realizing it, Cailan had withdrawn from Jarek’s grip and gone to stand in front of the wall.  His eyes read title after title and his mouth practically watered with the feast of words in front of him.

His little fantasy world was broken into when the heat of a warm hand rested on the small of his back.  He glanced up at his owner, wondering about the look of amused affection he seemed to be getting.

“I take it you enjoy the written word?” Jarek asked.

Cailan flushed and tore his gaze away from the books, his eyes automatically going down to the floor.  “I…it’s not….”

“Cailan,” the growingly familiar voice called to him, forcing Cailan to raise his eyes.  “I don’t understand the embarrassment you seem to feel over my question, but I approve wholly if you like to read.  It will help in educating you about Cylandrea.  Besides that, I’ve always found reading to be a relaxing pastime to pursue.  You are welcome to all the books in here.  It’s my personal library.  Someday, when it’s suitable, I’ll show you the palace and university libraries as well.”

Embarrassingly, Cailan felt his eyes burn with tears again.  He hadn’t full out cried, but he’d been on the verge so much that day that it was no wonder he was seen as the weak one in the family.  He had never seen his father cry, nor his brothers past the age of eight or nine.  He could even count on one hand the number of times he’d seen his mother cry.  He shouldn’t be so emotional over this generous offering of books.  He pushed his emotions down and convinced himself his sensitivity would subside once he was more used to the world he now found himself in.  “Thank you,” he managed to say to Jarek once he composed himself.

“You’re welcome, petling.  I promise the books will be there later, but it’s time to eat now.  Come.”

Jarek’s hand on his back ushered Cailan toward the table, but the sight of only one place setting amongst the food baffled him.  Then he spotted the red cushion on the floor by the chair and he understood things a little clearer.  Even if Jarek treated him kindly, his status had changed.  He was relegated to the floor.

“Young prince,” Leader Jarek spoke and placed himself in Cailan’s vision, blocking the view of the cushion.  “I have seen sadness, hurt, and shame in your face today, and now I see anger.  Why?”

Cailan bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from shouting his anger and the unfairness of life.  “This morning I was a royal, a young but equal member of my family.  Now I am a dog on the floor.”

“Ah,” Jarek murmured.  “It is the pride that is hurt, and I can understand that, but you misinterpret things, young one.”

Cailan couldn’t come up with any good in his demotion and shook his head.

“Yes, you do, petling.  I will explain as I prepare you.”

Prepare him for what, Cailan didn’t know, but he felt his interpretation of things was verified as Jarek retrieved two leather circlets, identical to the single one he’d worn earlier, and carefully bound Cailan’s hands behind his back.

“You are not being shamed, Prince Cailan,” Jarek asserted.  “You have royal blood and there is honor in that.  I share that type of birthright and I understand the pride of belonging to a respected family.  And I know this feels like a punishment or a disgrace, but it is not meant to be like that at all.”

“Then what is it?” Cailan demanded.

There was silence to his question, and after a moment Cailan recognized his error, although it didn’t help his anger.  “What is it, my lord?” he offered more respectfully.  He was rewarded with an approving nod and a continued explanation. 

“It is meant to be an honor, a place of acceptance, and an act of joy.”  Jarek led him to the cushion and helped him sit comfortably on it before taking a seat in the chair at the table.  His leg brushed against Cailan’s arm, and then his hand was placed with a heavy comfort on the back of Cailan’s neck.  “This position does not mean you are beneath me.  It means you are under my care.”

Cailan looked up at his owner, trying to understand but feeling unsure.  It just didn’t make sense.  Jarek’s hand massaged soothingly at his neck.

“Perhaps it is the differences in our two countries that make this hard for you to understand, but no one here looks down on the man I choose to have at my feet.  It shows you hold a special place to me.”

Cailan sighed over his lack of comprehension.  “But that doesn’t make any sense either.  You don’t know me.  How can I have a special place?”

“I know more than you realize, young prince, and I look forward to learning more.”  Jarek reached for one of the blue linen napkins on the table and proceeded to bind it around Cailan’s head, effectively blindfolding him.

Cailan didn’t like it.  He was vulnerable with his hands tied and his eyes blind.  His only assurance now was the heat of Jarek’s leg at his side, and he subconsciously leaned into it.  “Why?” he asked sadly, still not understanding much in his new role and life.

“Many reasons, petling, that you will come to realize in your own time.  For now, just understand that I am taking away the distractions.  It is just you and me here.  I’ll take care of you.”

His pride in his manhood told him told him he could take care of himself, but the trials and feelings of betrayal from the day urged him to accept the small comfort Jarek offered.  His owner seemed to accept his acquiescence and soon offered Cailan bites of the prepared meal.  A light touch of Jarek’s finger to his mouth would precede each bite of food and drink of fruited water.  The meat and potatoes offered were spiced strangely, but good, and the bits of bread he was given were warm and flavored with honey.  Although it was strange to eat a meal in such a way, eventually Cailan relaxed into the peace of the room and the ease of simply being fed without having to worry about table manners or social talks. 

Later, Jarek didn’t push when Cailan turned away from the offered food and issued a quiet, “I’m satisfied.”

*****

When the meal was finished, Cailan expected the blindfold and leather bonds to be removed, but he was mistaken.  Instead, Jarek helped him rise from the cushion and carefully led him to a soft settee.  Only then were the circlets removed from his wrists, although the blindfold remained in place.  Automatically, Cailan went to remove the blind, but his hands were caught in his owner’s.  He swallowed on a sudden feeling of nervousness.

“My lord?”

“I want you to wear it a bit longer,” Jarek told him.

“What are you going to do?”  Cailan heard the nerves in his voice and tried to make up for it by sitting a bit taller.

“Nothing scary,” Jarek replied, “but I want you to trust me.”

Cailan swallowed again and nodded.  “Ok.”  He felt the dip of the seat as Jarek sat next to him.

“There is a pillow to your right,” Jarek directed.  “Lie down and stretch across the divan.”

His owner mildly forced his compliance by lifting his legs from the floor.  Cailan did his best to get comfortable, but it was awkward, and he was aware of his legs being placed on Leader Jarek’s knees.  All he wore was the robe he’d been given and he couldn’t help stiffening when he felt Jarek begin to rub and knead his feet and calves.  It was an odd sensation, not bad but it made him feel vulnerable.

“No, don’t please,” he requested abruptly, and tried to push up and move away from his owner.  Jarek merely held his legs in place and a strong hand pushed him back toward the pillow.

Ashamed of his panic, Cailan took a deep breath and practiced the military technique he’d been taught to overpower fear: steady breaths, still body, and a mind focused on his goal.

But what was his goal?  On the battlefield he always knew his goal: deliver the message, defend the territory, protect his people.  None of those things applied now.  So what was his goal?

Duty.

Yes, that’s what it was.  He’d told his father he wouldn’t shun his duty.  He’d been given to Leader Jarek to fulfill an ancient treaty and to spare his baby brother.  If he wasn’t careful, he could reignite the war between their lands.  With a goal now in mind and little Doron’s sweet face in his head, he forced a calmness to his body and worked to relax under his owner’s touch.

There were several minutes of silence between them.  Cailan wasn’t sure he appreciated the quiet right then.  With the blindfold on, his thoughts drifted toward the home he already missed and the future which he feared to contemplate. 

However, it also blocked out the unnerving sight of his owner, a man he wasn’t sure how to define.   Jarek was alluring to look at.  The silver shimmer in his black hair, dark blue eyes that resembled the sky as a storm approached, and those unique purple markings across his body.  Cailan had never felt an attraction to a man before, and he wasn’t sure that’s what he could say he felt now, but he couldn’t deny that there was a temptation to touch and explore the unique body.

Then there was his calmness that nothing seemed to rattle.  He was the leader of Cylandrea’s military, serving alongside his brother the king.  Cailan’s experience with men like that was personalities hardened by bloodshed and trials.  They were respected and powerful, but the words kind and gentle were never used to describe them.  Yet, that’s how Jarek, and even King Alaric, had been to him so far.  The dichotomy between his experience in his homeland and what he was witnessing in Cylandrea made no sense. 

“What are you thinking on so hard, little prince?” Jarek asked as his hands continued to calmly massage Cailan’s legs.

Jarek’s voice was not loud, but the sound of it in the silence was momentarily startling.  He thought on his answer, and before he could formulate what he’d consider a good reply, Jarek spoke again.

“An answer that takes that long to think on often lacks in truthfulness.  I will tell you fairly that I will not be lied to, young prince.”

There was a warning in those words.  Cailan heard it and understood, but it was still hard to find the terms that wouldn’t make him sound weak.  “I was thinking about you,” he finally admitted.

“What about me?”

Cailan would have thought there’d be either humor or wariness in Jarek’s voice.  Instead all he sensed was open curiosity.

“You don’t make sense,” Cailan told him.  “A warlord, a leader of a military regime does not speak kindly or touch gently.  He is ruthless because it is necessary.”

“On the battlefield that is very true,” Jarek agreed.  His hands roamed higher and began massaging just above Cailan’s knees.  “But we’re not on the battlefield.  As of today the war is over, but I sense you’re still fighting.  We are no longer enemies, Prince Cailan.”

“Then what are we?”  He asked the question, but Cailan was afraid of the answer.

“We are many things, young one.  In broad terms we are men, allies through our countries, and warriors in our own right.”

Cailan’s pride stepped up a pace from where it had fallen to hear the other man call him a warrior, but the question he’d asked was still only partially answered.  “Yes, but what are we?”

The air felt heavy to Cailan as he waited for the answer, and he sensed Leader Jarek was picking his words carefully.

“We has not been defined yet,” the man finally replied.  “The answer to that is something you and I will discover together.  However, you are mine.  My war gift, my concubine, my petling, my little prince and my young one.  You are mine to take care of and protect.”

Cailan opened his mouth to respond to what he thought of those roles, but Jarek continued speaking.

“My role is that I am yours, petling.  Your master, your owner, your protector.  There will be other roles for both of us I’m sure, and we will define them as we need to.”

Cailan was silent for few minutes, trying to take things in and make sense of it all, but the whole ordeal and information of his day was becoming muddied in his head. 

“Come, little prince,” Jarek finally said, interrupting his thoughts.  It’s time to get settled into bed.”

Any tension the gentle rubbing had worked out now returned full force.  “I’m…not tired,” he said somberly.

“I believe that to be a lie,” Jarek stated, and the tone sent a shiver down Cailan’s spine.  “But if that’s what you are claiming, then I will take advantage of your lack of tiredness.”

Another shiver, this one stronger, rippled through Cailan.  It didn’t help when Jarek still left the blindfold on and chose to pick Cailan up instead of allow him to walk through to the bedroom. 

“Sir, I can walk!” he asserted.

“My lord or master if you’re going to address me, petling; and I know your capabilities, but if I choose to carry what I own, then I will do so.”

Cailan held back a grumble that almost turned into a whimper as the softness of a mattress appeared under him.  He dearly wanted to remove his blindfold and feel some control of the situation, but his honor kept him from doing so.  He mutely obeyed the hands that guided him to his back, and then listened to the rustling sounds of Jarek moving about the room.  The bed dipped and a gasp escaped his mouth as the ties of the robe he wore were undone and the material was pushed aside to reveal his body.  His hands clenched as two warm and rough palms began mapping his bones and muscles.

“Relax, petling.  I know you’re not ready to be penetrated, but I am going to explore you.”

It was his right, Cailan knew this, so he bit back the cowardly desire to run away.  Surprisingly, and he wasn’t sure what this said about him, he began to relax under the soothing touches of his owner.  Jarek seemed in no rush.  His hands explored the curves of Cailan’s shoulders, the firmness of his pectorals, and the flatness of his stomach.  They drifted lower and Cailan felt his face burn as his groin and privates were delicately touched.  He hated himself even more as the contact aroused him and brought forth a whimper. 

If Jarek had voiced anything in that moment, good or bad, Cailan was sure he would have bolted off the bed, but the man simply continued his exploratory touch, going down Cailan’s thighs and eventually to his feet.  At that point he wordlessly guided Cailan to turn over, and then worked his way back up.  Cailan almost melted when Jarek massaged the back of his knees.  It was so pleasurable that he didn’t have the energy to tense up when the man eventually moved up to his buttocks.  The most he managed was a brief whine of vulnerability when the man ran a finger just one time through his cleft.  Then his owner’s hands were massaging his back and shoulders.  And then….heaven bless!...Jarek dug his fingers into Cailan’s hair and began massaging his scalp.  “Exquisite,” he heard from above him just before falling into a deeply blissful sleep.

*****

Cailan woke feeling warm, but disoriented.  His bed felt different, and there was a pleasant but unfamiliar scent on his pillow.  He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the morning blurriness, and then felt confused to see that his head was not on a pillow, but on someone’s chest.  In a flash, the events of the previous day rushed into his head, and he instinctively jerked away from his bedmate. 

A jerk was about all he managed.  He’d been unaware of the arm wrapped around him, and his sudden move was halted as the strong limb gripped tighter and kept him against the chest he lay on.

“Settle down, petling,” Jarek’s deep, sleepy voice ordered.  “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let me up!” Cailan demanded, the unexpectedness of his position making him feel impotent with anger.

Jarek didn’t even bother to open his eyes.  “You are not the one who gives orders here, little prince.  Settle.  Go back to sleep if you like.”

Cailan was too awake and too much at loose ends to comply.  He couldn’t even remember falling asleep the night before, and being that susceptible frightened him.  “Did you use me last night?”

Jarek let out a mixed breath and sigh.  “You wouldn’t have to ask if I had, sweet one.  You would know.”

The implication of those words was terrifying, but Cailan was relieved to know Jarek spoke the truth.  He’d seen the man’s body and the size of his privates.  It was true that Cailan would have definitely been able to tell if he’d been used.  His body responded with a tremble at the thought, and his unconscious reaction seemed to stir Jarek to more wakefulness.  For a brief second he gripped Cailan tighter, and then abruptly rolled so Cailan was on his back and Jarek hovered over him. 

Cailan was mortified to realize they were both unclothed, and his horror grew as his natural morning hardness was rubbed against Jarek’s firm member.

“Be still, petling, and calm down,” Jarek instructed from above him.

Cailan’s heart pounded and his breaths were shallow.  “I don’t want this,” he whispered.

“This is part of your duty to me,” Jarek reminded.  “I will not harm you.”  His right hand moved lightly over Cailan’s cheek, neck, shoulder and arm.  “You are chilled with fright, but you do not need to be.  Let me warm you, young prince.  Relax and talk with me while I do.”

Cailan realized he was shaking, and he tried to stop himself as he realized that Jarek did not seem intent to do more than lie over him and let them share his body heat.  “Talk with you about what?” he asked warily.

Jarek balanced over him on one arm, his body pressing down on Cailan with just enough weight to be comfortable without being heavy.  His other hand combed through Cailan’s hair reminiscent of the soothing touch of the evening before.  “Anything you like,” the man answered.  “Speak of your family or of Arten.  Tell me what you’d like to know of Cylandrea, or how you enjoy spending your time.  Let me learn of you.”

Cailan bit his lip, unsure of how to respond.  Jarek seemed to take notice of the action and he delicately rubbed the pad of his thumb over Cailan’s mouth.

“Why do you hold back?” his owner questioned.

Cailan looked into Jarek’s blue eyes, eyes that were uncomfortably close to his, but tried to answer honestly.  “It is not prudent to give too much information about one’s self.  Silence is wiser than many words.”

“Hm,” Jarek murmured as he seemed to study Cailan’s face.  “You are still thinking as a soldier, as a fighter.  I respect that, young prince, for I am a warrior as well and often think in such a way, but the life in a home, in a bedroom, in a time of peace, requires a different mindset.”

“Peace is fleeting,” Cailan stated.

“So is war,” Jarek replied.  “Life never stays the same, petling.  It is ever changing and we must adapt to each season we are given.  It is wise for a soldier to be silent to an enemy, but it is not wise for the soldier to see everyone as his foe.  If he did, then he would speak to no one, thus he could never tell a grocer what food he needed for fear it was poisoned, nor could he purchase stone for a house, for he might be given clay.  He would never find a love to share a life with, because he would never express his own desires to the one he longed for.”

Cailan was captivated by the words, and discovered he was not startled when Jarek dipped his head and brushed the lightest of kisses to Cailan’s lips.

“A soldier is not just a soldier,” Jarek continued as his lips parted from Cailan’s.  “A soldier is also a man, sometimes a husband and a father.  He is a provider and a lover and many other things.  We need to learn to embrace all parts of ourselves, and understand who we are with each change that life brings us.”

At that, Jarek dipped his head again and this time the kiss was firmer.  Cailan, almost hypnotized by the deep words and sensitive thoughts in his head, didn’t fight the affection offered, but found himself receiving it willingly.  When Jarek pulled away a second time, Cailan almost mourned the loss.  He’d never experienced something so intimate, yet almost innocent with how right it felt.

His owner’s hand returned to combing through his silver tresses and occasionally brushing against Cailan’s cheek.  “If you wish not to speak of yourself yet, I am willing to tell you of me.  What do you wish to know, petling?”

Cailan licked his lips, tasting the faint flavor Jarek had left behind.  “I…don’t know,” he said honestly.  At the moment if felt like a butterfly was flitting around his head, chasing his thoughts in all directions.

Jarek smiled warmly at him.  “Then I will offer what I think might be interesting. Alaric and I are not only brothers, but birth-sharers.  He is the eldest by a fourth of an hour.  There are no single births among Cylandreans.  We always arrive in twos or threes, but it is often a difficult trial for both mother and infants.  Not all survive it, so we rejoice greatly over every life that arrives safely in our country.”

Cailan blinked in surprise, having not known this about his new people. 

“There are two siblings below Alaric and I, a younger brother and sister.  You will meet them eventually.”

Cailan nodded, but remained silent in the hope that Jarek would keep going.  He was interested and wanted to know more.

“As you know from the meeting of the peace treaty, I am the military leader in our country, second only to our king.  My days are spent training myself and others, staying aware of the goings on amongst our allies, enemies, and even the neutral kingdoms around us.  I’ve learned that the ability to make wise choices often comes only from being prepared for the time those choices might need to be made. 

“However, when we are at peace, I do not seek out battles.  The king and I keep our men strong, but part of that is having a balance in life.  Our soldiers are also farmers, weavers, purifiers, sorcerers, healers, writers, and many other things.”

“What is your balance?” Cailan asked, the words escaping him involuntarily.

“Many things are my balance.  As a soldier, I enjoy the physicality of my training.  As a leader, I find purpose in organizing and directing my troops.  As a man, I find pleasure in books, the challenge of building, and in learning.  I enjoy the friendship of others, the sharing of a good meal, and intimacies at the right time and with the right person.”

“You’ve been with many?” Cailan asked, not sure why he needed or wanted to know the answer.

“It depends on what you or I deem as ‘many’.  I’ve been with some out of duty, some out of immature lust, and a few out of affection.”

Cailan’s eyes squinted as he tried to comprehend Jarek’s words.  “I don’t grasp the differences, my lord.”  The respectful term came out naturally, and that surprised Cailan, but he tried not to question it.  “You say a lot of things I don’t understand,” he admitted.

“I’ve noticed,” Cailan said tenderly.  “I believe there are many differences between our two worlds, but if we both work to understand, the gulf between us won’t seem so wide, and perhaps we’ll find many commonalities as well.”

“I’ll try,” Cailan offered honestly.

“So will I,” Jarek told him.  “If you have questions, feel free to ask them, young prince; and if you’re not sure if you should, I will teach you what is acceptable and what isn’t.  For now, we’ve lingered in bed for quite a while, and it’s possible our breakfast will be eaten late and cold if we wait much longer.  Let’s see to our morning ablutions and filling our empty bellies.”

Cailan nodded, the tiniest of smiles fleeting across his face as Jarek carefully rolled off him and then offered him a hand out of bed.

*****

After bathing, Jarek gave him a tunic and leggings to ear.  Both were a bit large, but would do for the day.  His owner assured him he’d soon have fitted clothing made for him. 

The two of them returned to the parlour where their morning meal waited.  Cailan wondered about the unseen servants who brought their food, curious if he’d ever actually see them.  He was also disappointed to see the leather cuffs and blindfold sitting on the table.

“My lord?” he questioned, feeling sad—almost hurt—and a little confused by the need for them.

Jarek squeezed his neck comfortingly before reaching for the cuffs and binding Cailan’s wrists behind him.  “Do not despair, petling.  I have my reasons for them, but it is not to shame or punish you.  Remember what I told you last evening?”

Cailan glanced at the crimson pillow on the floor and then looked over his shoulder to Jarek’s face.  “I am not beneath you,” he said quietly, wishing he really believed that. 

Jarek nodded and turned Cailan to face him.  “That’s right, sweet one.  What else did I say?”

Cailan struggled with the words.  It felt unmanly to say them, but Jarek cupped his face and made their eyes meet.

“What did I say?”

Cailan swallowed and answered, but there was still a hint of rebelliousness in his tone.  “I am under your care.”

Jarek briefly kissed his lips before releasing his face.  “Good man,” he approved, “but you will be careful with your tone, little prince.  There will be no disrespect between us.  I do not think of you as less, but I am you owner, your master, and we will respect each other’s roles.”

Cailan felt his face heat at the reprimand, and was grateful to be able to turn away as Jarek guided him to the cushion.  Once seated, the blindfold was placed and Cailan felt the brief sensation of Jarek’s hand on his neck.  When the warm palm was removed, he leaned into Jarek’s leg, appreciating the sense of grounding it gave him, and then opened his mouth when his master’s fingers brushed his lips with the offering of food.  The boiled egg, fruit, and crispy bread he was given was satisfying, and like the evening before, he unexpectedly found ease in the handling of their meal time.

This time, when the meal was over, he felt almost rewarded when Jarek immediately removed the cuffs and blindfold.

“Satisfied, petling?” Jarek asked.

Cailan nodded, but at Jarek’s raised brow he respectfully added, “Yes, my lord.”

“Good.  Come.”  He reached for Cailan’s hand and twined their fingers together.  “I have a task for you.”

Cailan was surprised.  Despite being given into servitude and to physically please his owner, Jarek hadn’t yet asked much of him.  For a moment his nerves came to the fore, but instead of being led to the bedroom, Jarek brought him to face the wall of books.

“I began developing my personal library when my brother came to the throne.  I’m pleased with what I have so far, but I do not have it organized as I wish.  Do you see how the shelves are divided?”

Cailan took in the large wall and hundreds of books it contained.  There were vertical beams built into the wall, splitting the library into six even sections.  “Yes, my lord.”

“The sections are topical.  History and Geography, Science and Sorcery, Poetry, Novels, Children’s Literature, and Cylandrean Classics.  I’ve managed to keep the books in their proper sections.  At least, I believe I have.  But the sections themselves are disordered.  I’d like you to arrange them properly.”

Cailan felt the excitement of a task he’d take great pleasure in bubble up in his stomach.  “Really?” he asked in elated awe.  The look Jarek gave him was indefinable, but it gave him a warm feeling.

“Really,” his owner assured.  “I expect this to take several days because I will be limiting your time as there will be other things for you to do as well.  I’d like the books arranged alphabetically by author first, then title.  If you have any questions about a book’s placement, just set it aside. 

Cailan nodded eagerly. 

“I will be working at the desk over there.”  He pointed to a beautiful cherry wood desk set in a position that allowed the worker to observe both the room and the scenery visible outside the windows.  “I am not to be disturbed unless it is truly necessary.  Understood?”

“Yes, my lord,” Cailan agreed, barely keeping himself from bouncing on his toes in anticipation to get his hands on the books.

Jarek seemed to find amusement in his enthusiasm, and an unexpected move had Cailan in the larger man’s arms.  He stiffened initially, but then forced himself to accept the embrace. 

“That’s my good prince,” Jarek grinned.  He caught Cailan’s lips in a kiss that exuded a bit more passion than the others he’d given, and one of his hands dropped to caress Cailan’s bottom through the leggings.

Cailan squirmed, feeling both aroused and unnerved at the touches.  Whether it was Jarek’s intent or not, he’d efficiently distracted him from the books. 

They stared at each other when Jarek broke the kiss.  Cailan tentatively gripped Jarek’s arms.  “Why do you do this?” he asked in a breathless whisper.

“Do what, my petling?  Kiss you?  Is it not my right?”

There was a bit of breathlessness to Jarek’s words as well, but Cailan tried to explain himself better instead of dwelling on that detail.  “I mean, why do you kiss me in this way?  I am...” Cailan swallowed in order to speak a word he hated.  “….a concubine.  You kiss me.  It seems you try to seduce me, which I have never heard of before, but you have not taken me.”  He flushed hotly as he said the words, because he didn’t believe he wanted to be taken, but he didn’t understand this man who owned him.  “Do you treat all your concubines this way?  Are there others?”

Jarek drew him a bit tighter against his body.  Cailan could feel his owner’s erection pressing into him, and it was a surprisingly arousing sensation.

“Yes, little prince, there are others.  And no, I do not treat them as I treat you.”

“Why?” Cailan questioned, his whisper getting even softer.

Jarek leaned in and slowly kissed him, seeming to explore Cailan’s lips with his mouth.  “You are special,” he finally said.  “When you’ve learned a bit more and are able to understand, I’ll explain just how special.  Can you trust that?”

It was hard not to with the unfamiliar yet pleasant sensations flowing through his body.  He nodded and expected Jarek to kiss him again, but instead the hand that had been caressing his bottom moved to cup the back of his head, and he guided Cailan to rest his cheek on his shoulder.

Held like this, Cailan could smell the woodsy scent of his owner’s skin.  The black and silver shimmer of Jarek’s hair glistened by his face, the occasional strand brushing softly against his skin.  He was confused, but not scared; mildly aroused, but not afraid; lonely for home and family, but sensing he was where he was supposed to be.

He was held for several minutes, but eventually Jarek reluctantly released him.  “Go to your task, sweet one.  We both have work to do.”

*****

Cailan lost himself in his task completely.  It was a study in discipline to refrain from reading almost every book he touched.  He’d started in the History and Geography section, history being a personal favorite topic of his, and felt giddy with each new book he arranged.  Occasionally he couldn’t help himself, and he’d open the occasional tome to read the chapter headings or the first page.  He hoped he wouldn’t be caught, as Jarek hadn’t given him permission to do more than organize the books at this time, but intermittently the temptation was too much. 

He was standing about two thirds up a rolling ladder, with about half the first section complete, when Jarek called to him.  He’d been intent on his task, carefully reading each title and author to make sure they were placed correctly, and the unexpected interruption startled him from his reverie.  Forgetting where he was standing, he turned on the ladder, immediately losing his footing in the process.  There wasn’t even a chance to gasp before he felt himself fall, but instead of hitting the floor, he felt the heat of skin and muscles grasp him tightly.  Wide-eyed and heart racing he looked into Jarek’s face, seeing both alarm and annoyance.  He didn’t like that mix at all.

Wishing Jarek would put him down, he squirmed as he offered some words of gratitude.  “Thank you.  I was startled and forgot where I was for a moment.”

Jarek looked to the ladder and then seriously into Cailan’s eyes.  “I’m tempted to take a stick to you for such foolishness for your own care, but as the fault is somewhat mine for startling you, I will refrain…this time,” he warned.  “Are you capable of being more aware of your surroundings?

Cailan blushed in embarrassment and anger.  He was a soldier.  He knew the need to be attentive to his environment, and he was usually quite good at it, but he’d been absorbed in his assignment and let his mind wander.  “Yes, my lord,” he said grudgingly.

“Good, I will not keep you from completing your task, but you will not climb the ladder unless I am here with you.”

“What?!” Cailan asked in alarm.  He’d been climbing trees, mountainsides, and ropes much higher than the ladder since he was a boy.  The restriction given was insulting!

“You will not be on that ladder unless I am present,” Jarek repeated grimly.  “Is that understood?”

Cailan seethed, but he nodded.

“What was that?” Jarek pushed.

“Yes,” Cailan fumed.

“One last try at that, young one, or I will retrieve my stick.”

Cailan could hardly believe the threat issued.  Concubine or not, he was still royal, and royalty was never struck in such a way.  The warning intensified his anger, but while he didn’t want to believe it, there was sheer determination in Jarek’s face.

Breathing deeply to force down the insolence that wanted free reign, Cailan nodded again.  “Yes, my lord.”

He was set on his feet once he capitulated.  Wanting some distance, he made a move to return to his chore, but his wrist was caught in his master’s hand.

“You are done with that for the day,” Jarek told him.

Cailan’s back stiffened but he kept his wrist limp in the other man’s grasp.  “You said you would not keep me from my task,” he reminded.

“You will return to it tomorrow.  Before your fall, I had meant to tell you to stop.  You’ve done well with it so far, but we are needed elsewhere now.”

He wanted to argue, wanted to determine the events of his own day, but it was not his choice anymore.  Whatever Leader Jarek chose was what he was expected to do.  He turned away from the wall of books and went with Jarek back to the bedroom. 

“Sit,” Jarek directed, pointing to a chest at the foot of the bed. 

Cailan did as he was told, trying to put side his thoughts of the incomplete task and warning of chastisement.  He watched as Jarek moved to the room’s wardrobe and retrieved a black velvet bag.  His master moved to stand in front of him, and then opened the bag and withdrew the item inside.

For a moment, Cailan wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but then his blood went cold.  The red link chain was simple, and beautiful in a sense, but its purpose made it ugly in Cailan’s eyes. 

“It’s a slave collar,” he said hoarsely.

Jarek sigh and his eyes seemed slightly sad.  “No, my young prince, not quite.  You are right that it is a collar, but it is not for a slave.”  He tapped the side of Cailan’s leg, encouraging him to slide over so he could sit next to him.  Once seated, he held the collar in his right hand as his left landed on Cailan’s leg and rubbed tenderly.  “There is much I need to teach you, and I fear what you understand from your own culture will make it harder for you to comprehend how things are done here, and particularly how the king and I do things.  Are there slaves in Arten, petling?”

“Yes,” Cailan acknowledged.  “It is not wholly common, but there are some.”

“What makes them a slave?” Jarek asked.

Cailan thought on the people who functioned in that role, some of whom had served him.  “A man or woman becomes a slave sometimes as the consequence for a committed crime,” Cailan told him.  “In those cases, most of them are sent to work hard labor in the fields.  Others have not committed a crime, but they are from kingdoms we have defeated and claimed under the authority of our royal house.  When we win rule of a new land, there are always some who refuse to take the oath of allegiance to my father, the king.  Since they choose not to willingly align themselves, they are forced into a place of servitude.  They are often the ones made assistants to the higher servants in a noble’s home.  We had some in my father’s palace.  All slaves wear a collar,” he said somberly.  “It shows they have been forced to humble themselves.  They are not abused, but there is no esteem given to them from anyone.”

“I see.”  Jarek’s hand continued to rub Cailan’s leg as he seemed to choose his words.  “In Cylandrea, we do not have slavery in that sense,” he told him.

Cailan looked disbelieving, and Jarek sighed a little and moved to put his arm around Cailan’s shoulders.  “You perceive slavery as a punishment or an insult, little prince.  We do not view it the same way in Cylandrea.  Among our people, a person is a slave only if he chooses to be.”

Cailan shook his head.  “I don’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to at this time.  An individual who chooses to be a slave usually does so for two reasons.  One is that he has incurred a debt to someone.  If he finds he cannot pay it off himself, he then has the choice to go to the one to whom he owes and offer himself as an unpaid servant until the debt is cleared.  Once full payment has been made, then he is free to leave his servitude and return to paying work.”

Cailan’s brow wrinkled as he thought on that and tried to take it in.  “What is the second reason?” he asked after a time.

“The second reason usually occurs when someone believes they are unable to financially care for themselves or their family.  In that case, the leader of that home will approach the wealthy members of our country and request a role as an indentured servant.  Typically a contract is agreed to between the two parties.  Most terms of those contracts are the same from one to the next.  The wealthy party agrees to provide for the family of the one offering service.  In return, all members of the service family who are old enough to work will do so for the provider family.  Most contracts like this are arranged to last as long as the leader of the service family is alive.  Once that member passes away, the remaining family may choose to enter into a new contract, or they may leave the home of their servitude and seek to provide for themselves another way. 

“While it is humbling to choose to do this, no one is looked down upon for their choice of slavery, because they are honestly paying a debt or providing for their loved ones.”

“Do they wear collars?”

“That is usually the choice of the master of the slave.  Some do and some don’t.  But a slave’s collar does not look like this.”  Jarek lifted the red chain for Cailan to see.  “A slave wears a collar of leather, with the master’s seal engraved on it, and that is only to show that he belongs to another.  Should someone hurt him, that person will be facing the retribution of the slave’s master.”

Cailan thought on that, but there was still information he felt he was missing.  “But what about…concubines…like me?” He barely whispered the last two words.  “That is not a choice.”

“No, it is not,” Leader Jarek agreed.  “But there is still a difference in our two worlds, and a difference between you and those housed in the harem.”

“What’s the difference?”

Jarek pulled Cailan a little tighter against him.  “There are a multitude of reasons why a concubine is offered to a royal house or a noble.  Too many to get into, and I’m afraid I can’t explain the underlying messages and reasons for the choices that are made.  It is something that takes time to learn and understand.  But I promise, to the best of my ability, I will give you every opportunity to study and learn what you need to.”

Cailan nodded, but stared unwillingly at the item in his master’s hand.  “Do the other concubines wear collars?”

“No, they do not,” Jarek told him, surprising Cailan.  “They never leave the palace grounds, so there is no reason for them to wear one.    A collar is…” Jarek paused thoughtfully.  “A collar represents something special.  To wear a collar in Cylandrea means you have been chosen by the one who has given it to you.”

He made it sound special, like an honor, but Cailan only seemed to have more confusion.  “But you didn’t choose me.”

Jarek’s eyes lit with a fire that sent a hot sensation down Cailan’s back.  His master cupped his head and kissed him, drawing it out deliberately and sensually.  “Oh yes I did, my little prince, and not just by me, my special one.”

“What…?”

Jarek held up a hand.  “I know you have questions, probably enough to fill a book, but there is no time for anymore right now.”  He lifted the red chain and put it around Cailan’s neck.  Cailan heard the faint click of the latch, and then watched as Jarek seemed to take a moment to admire it on him.  “One day, when the time is right, I will have a collar made especially and uniquely for you, but this will do in the meantime.”  He took Cailan’s chin in hand and met his eyes.  “Until I choose to replace it, this does not come off.  Is that understood?”

           Cailan began to nod, then caught himself and voiced what his owner wished of him.  “Yes, my lord.”