Statuesque

AN: Reviews are always appreciated! Though, don't bother asking for a sequel, cause I've already got one planned! I'd like to know what you think of this one though.



Tamrin, why aren't you paying attention?

You must do your duties, Tamrin.

Stop slouching, Tamrin!

Tamrin, don't do that!

Go there now, Tamrin!

Tamrin, what are you doing here!

It's your responsibility to know this, Tamrin!

Hot tears of frustration welled up in Tamrin's eyes, and he wiped the away angrily. Everyone was always always telling him what to do! He had no time just to be himself, just to think, just relax! Just to get away from everyone!

He was so wound up and furious that his hands were shaking, and the vibration were too strong for him to continue walking. With an heated groan, he collapsed against the nearest wall, slamming his fists into the hard wood, and yelping at the pain it caused. Damn wall! Even it was against him!

The quiet vacuum of the hallway absorbed his sheltered sobs, and he tried his hardest to stop crying. It wasn't manly. It wasn't adult. Not fit for someone who would grow up to be such a powerful person.

But it wasn't his fault! He was only 16! Barely out of puberty and just wanting time to himself, but no. No, he couldn't have that. They wouldn't let him.

Sniffling wetly, he slid down to his knees, then turned to lean against the wall as he sat on the cold floor. The thick carpet did nothing to take the chill out of the room. He glanced up through the wetness of his eyes, surveying the ridiculous decoration of the hall. Even a room designed only for walking through, was covered in carpet, and wallpaper, and paintings, and comical furniture. Large majestic chairs and suits of armor, standing guard over the meaninglessness of the room.

It was laughable.

Trying to take a useless room that only wanted to be a room, and turn it into a gallery. Just like him. He only wanted to be a boy. But they were trying to dress him up and change him into a-

“Prince Tamrin! What are you doing on the floor?!”

With a start, Tamrin whipped his head up to see his teacher frowning down at him from the end of the hall. He wiped the moisture from his face and stood quickly, trying to straighten his mussed-up hair.

Master Jerrin approached him, taking efficient perfect steps in his perfectly tailored teaching robe and his perfect, never-mussed hair. Stupid teacher.

Coming to a stop in front of Tamrin, Master Jerrin regarded him with disapproval. “I asked you a question, young prince, and I expect an answer.”

The usual shame flushed through Tamrin, making his cheeks redden and his head fall in submission. In his defense, he couldn't help it. Whenever he saw this man, nothing but blind terror rushed through him. “I...”

“Stand up straight, Prince Tamrin! Future kings do not slouch!”

A wooden switch, thin as a blade of grass, came out from underneath those robes and slapped across Tamrin's side.

“Ow!” He yelped, instantly lifting his head and taking the 'proper pose'. Head up, chin out, shoulders squared, hands folded behind his back at the base of his spine. When he was older, one hand would be braced on his hip, where his sword would eternally hang once he was officially knighted.

Damn that switch. It was Tamrin's personal opinion that it wasn't anything more than a simple whip, that Master Jerrin used for his own sick enjoyment.

“Now, once more, Prince Tamrin. What were you doing on the floor?”

That tone did nothing to help Tamrin's bravado, and he began to sweat as he scrambled to think of a reason for why he'd been sitting in a very un-princely way.

He couldn't very well say he'd been crying cause training to become the king was too damn hard, now could he?

“I was...” The sweat dripped down his temple, making him itch, but he didn't wipe it away, for he'd have to break the pose. “...My ankle suddenly hurt, and I was trying to take the weight off it. I must have lost my balance, Sir, because the next thing I knew, I had fallen.” The lie rolled off his tongue, sounding believable even to him.

Master Jerrin lifted a brow at him, eyes full of scrutiny as he seemed to process what Tamrin had said. But then he tilted his head and sighed, concern seeping onto his perfect face. “Are you having problems with your ankle? How did you hurt it?”

Dear lord, he actually believed it! Tamrin quelled the sudden giddy giggle that threatened to slip out. “No, Master Jerrin, I think I just stepped on it wrong, and that made it go weak.”

With a frown, Master Jerrin knelt down to one knee. “Let me examine your joint, and then I shall decide whether you need to go to the infirmary.” It wasn't a request, it was an order.

Tamrin's ankle was lifted and squeezed, and on a whim, Tamrin winced as his heel was prodded.

Master Jerrin glanced up at that, frowning only slightly at Tamrin's expression. “You have discomfort?”

Tamrin nodded, showing hesitance, though he really felt fine. “A little bit, Master Jerrin. But I don't think it's hurt.”

His teacher stood, studying him and folding his own hands into his wide sleeves. “You do not need to go to the infirmary, but I would like you to go immediately to bed. I didn't find any bruising or muscle damage, so it's most likely just a weakening of the joint. It will be fine if you stay off of it. So, no lessons tomorrow.”

Tamrin almost fell over, and he sputtered with wide eyes. “W-What?”

“You are to go directly to bed tonight, keep off your ankle, and tomorrow, you may not leave bed until lunch. After that, I would like you to spend the day studying in your room. Make sure you are sitting or laying in bed, but do not exert yourself. The last thing we need is for this to become a regular thing. Is that understood, Prince Tamrin?”

“Yes.” He whispered, voice full of shock and exhilaration. “I understand.”

“It's getting late, so you should be getting to sleep. Do you need an escort to your room?”

“N-No!” Tamrin almost shouted, excited unbearably now. “I'm fine! I can do it just fine! Goodbye!” And he turned to race away to his room.

“Prince Tamrin! Don't run on your ankle!” Came his teacher's harsh disapproval.

But, Tamrin ignored it, and in a matter of moments, he was sprinting down numerous hallways and up stairs, finally coming to his room. Inside, he slammed the door behind him, and slid down like before, his back to the wood. But unlike before, now he was happy. Almost deliriously so.

No lessons tomorrow! None at all! Master Jerrin held supremacy over all his tutors, so he wouldn't have to do any of it! No fencing! No posture lessons! No literature! No horse riding, mathematics, speech, or etiquette! Nothing at all, for a whole glorious day!

Ah, it was just too good to be true. A vacation, almost. And all he had to do was stay in bed. Do absolutely nothing. Read? Study? Ha! There'd be none of that! For all his restrictions and rules that had to be followed in his daily life, in his room, he was safe.

Under order of the king himself, his father, no one was to bother Tamrin in his bedroom, ever. If he didn't open the door himself, then you weren't allowed in. A king's order was better than the strongest lock. Tamrin would be sleeping all day in his safehaven bed. Rolling in the sheets and maybe reading some adventure novels.

Master Jerrin objected to those types of literature, of course, with it's violence and smut, but thankfully, as long as Tamrin didn't bring them out of his room, they were safe.

It was dark outside his bedroom window, and Tamrin didn't even want to wait. Most of the castle was already asleep, since the only ones up this late were Tamrin himself and Master Jerrin, finishing up their lessons. Since Tamrin didn't have to be awake at the crack of dawn like everyone else, he was often the one up the latest.

Risking it, and knowing the only one who could reprimand him was his teacher, Tamrin changed into more comfortable clothing, a loose tunic and laced up trousers, with doeskin boots, then he opened his door quietly, peeking out into the hallway.

It was all clear.

He slid out and shut the door behind him, sneaking all the way to the kitchens. At the door, he paused, and glanced back at the large wooden door to the cellar. What better night for some fun?

When he next went back to the door, he had a bottle of cheap liqueur in hand and he made the journey to the hedge maze in the back of the castle.

At the opening to the maze were two crumbling warrior statues, keeping watch over the entrance for all eternity. For this was sacred land. These particular statues were like friends to Tamrin, a fact he knew because he had no friends of his own in real life.

Inside the maze, there were other numerous statues, many of them long since broken or fallen prey to the vines that grew rampant. The vegetation here was thick and overgrown, once having been a center piece to the castle, but that was long ago. Now, it was mostly kept around out of respect, for spaced around it were various graves of old knights who'd served previous kings. In the dead center was a mausoleum, where at least ten dead rulers were laid to rest. Now the kings were buried in a newer mausoleum, in the official cemetery of the west end of the castle. His grandfather was there, as well as three relatives before that. And his father would be there when he died too.

Tamrin would be there.

He didn't go to that cemetery. It was scary and made him feel sad. But here, here in the maze, there were no ghosts that he could feel. No fear of death. Here there was thriving wildlife, birds and rodents and hares, scampering away as he entered the maze.

Though it was indeed thick with vines and tall grass, the path itself was clear. One of the castle's gardeners had been assigned to make sure the pathways were always kept clear for people to walk through, and the more well-maintained paths were easily traveled. Many of the castle liked to come here to pay respect to the long dead and also to gain a quiet moment's reflection.

Tamrin came to hide away. One day, months ago, when he'd been feeling overwhelmed and alone, after he'd messed up his horseback riding and fallen off, having the whole castle squawking and fussing over him when all he'd had was a scraped elbow. It had been too much, too much attention, bombarding him at all angles, almost hurting him with the loud concerned cries.

He'd fled, crying in shame and embarrassment, bleeding from his arm and stumbling because he was still disoriented. His unthinking escape had taken him to the maze behind the castle, where he'd not even paused to think as he'd fled inside it's dark, green depths.

Voices followed him, and he'd heard his father calling his name, but he hadn't even paused. He hadn't really even been paying attention to where he was going, as long as it was deep inside and away from everyone.

At one small niche in the maze, he'd curled up and cried, listening as the voices had grown closer. Then, thankfully, his father had ordered off the search, though not out of compassion. Tamrin heard him say that they all needed to let him 'man-up', so no one should look for him.

Tamrin, holding his breath until they all left the maze, ceased crying after that. In a daze, he'd gotten to his feet, but on a upturn root, he'd tripped. Falling backwards through the thick hedge brush, he went rolling into an undiscovered grove, where the foliage wasn't nearly as thick, and in the center...

There'd been a statue. Of a male youth, dressed in warrior's garb, with a sword at his side. A proud face with a crooked nose, so life-like Tamrin had been scared at first. Upon realizing it to be nothing but stone covered almost to the waist with thick, lush moss, he calmed.

Hesitantly, he approached. Unlike the other statues in this maze, this one had been whole. Not even a piece missing. A few chips here and there, and some worn stone, but completely whole and perfect. Tamrin had been infatuated immediately. If only he could be strong like this boy had been. Famous enough to have a statue made of him. Wondering what this youth must have done to become a work of art, Tamrin returned the next day.

It seemed that no one had known of this little grove, with a small tree even growing unaffected off to one side, and patches of flowers all over. Other than the tree and the statue though, there were no other things of notice. No graves, no plaques. No nothing.

Just his statue.

It swiftly had become a habit to go to the statue. The grove was quiet and private, and Tamrin found a precious thing in the statue. Someone who would listen. Someone who wouldn't tell him what to do.

On days when he could get away, he'd come and relax in the grove, packing a small lunch and wasting away what time he had. More often than not though, he'd have to come on nights. The statue was always available, of course, and as the months passed, Tamrin would pour his heart out to the nameless warrior.

Tonight he would be celebrating. He had his liqueur and nothing to do tomorrow, so for once, he'd do what he always wanted to do. Sleep in the grove, with his statue keeping guard over him. And, get a little drunk in the process. There was no place to be in the morning.

Left, right, right, right, left, straight, left, right, through the overgrown wall and into his hideaway.

And there he was. That glorious stone sculpture, standing proud and noble in the center of beautiful flowers.

“Hi.” Tamrin murmured happily, breaking into a smile. “You would not believe the horrible day I've had.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“And now they want to start setting me up with these girls who I've never met, to see if we should get married!” Tamrin exclaimed angrily, tipping the bottle back for another swallow. “It's obscene, really. Don't I get a say in it? No, course not! Always have to be proper, always have to be a prince. Lord, it's unbearable.”

He belched loudly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and looking up from where he was leaning back against the base of the statue. “I mean, how am I supposed to learn how to make decisions if no one will let me make them now!”

The statue listened as always, with open ears and a silent mouth.

Tamrin sighed. “It's just...I also don't want to start thinking of marriage right now. I mean, I've never even kissed a girl, and they want me to be married?! That's ridiculous, right?”

The statue agreed by remaining quiet.

“Yeah, I know. Lord, I know. And...I don't even know if I...” He couldn't say it. Instead, he stood on wobbly legs and finished the last of the booze. “I wish I didn't have to be here. I wish I could get away somehow.”

The statue regarded him through half-lidded stone eyes.

Tamrin blushed and turned away slightly, the alcohol making him feel silly. “Oh?” He giggled, glancing back at his stone companion. “You'd run away with me?” A coy smile spread his lips, and he sauntered over to the warrior, swinging his hips quite obscenely. “You take me away, would you? Take me away from all this?”

Now in front of the statue, Tamrin couldn't resist placing his palms against that broad stone chest, ever so slightly stroking his fingertips over the chipped surface.

“You'd...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You'd be my...my...” A suddenly shy glance up to that perfect stone face. That smile, those lifeless eyes and cute crooked nose. There was meaning in that face. Feeling. Whoever had been the inspiration for this work of art must have been very wonderful man.

Handsome.

Beautiful, even.

So beautiful that Tamrin didn't even realize he was standing on his tip-toes, craning his face up to get a better look at that impassive molded man. Flawless. Such wide kind eyes, staring unblinkingly ahead, not seeing anything. And that funny nose. It was quite attractive, aiding a certain coy twist to that otherwise average face. And lips, perfect arched lips set in a straight line, though...To Tamrin, they looked to be smiling. Ever so softly, the merest hint of a smile, beckoning teasingly.

Tamrin couldn't help but pull closer, wrapping his arms around the statue's neck to anchor himself as he got a closer look. His front pressed completely to the statue's body, his hips meeting along the answering form of hips.

So close, so temptingly close, and no one was around, no one could see, and the statue wouldn't judge...

Tamrin closed the remained gap between them and pressed his lips to those of the statue, delighting as the cold stone heated at his touch. Pulling back slowly, Tamrin was surprised to find himself trembling.

“Oh...” He stuttered, gulping. “Uh...”

But he couldn't resist sweeping in again, kissing harder, feeling the grooves of hard cut rock and whimpering as heat began to pool in his groin, making his hips surge forward against the mossy covering wrapped around the statue like a shroud. It was so soft, and he couldn't help but press softly against it, writhing at the heat that grew in his trousers.

A growing pressure made him gasp, trying to climb further up the hardness of the statue as he kissed it again, breathless moans spilling from his parted lips. “Oh...Oh...Ah!”

With one hand, he reached down to the ties lacing the front of his pants, swiftly loosening them, then he shoved them down to his thighs, baring his growing erection to the chill of the night air. Without hesitating, he pressed his aching length to the cool moss, hissing at the temperature, and squirming awkwardly as it was almost painful compared to the heat of his cock. But it quickly heat up, being so close to his skin, which felt like a furnace at the moment.

“Ah!” He cried, thrusting forward into that soft pillow of soft moss, feeling as if the tendrils themselves were wrapping around his cock, holding him tight as he shuddered.

His moans were loud in the silence of the garden, echoing softly out into the stars. The loudness of his breath, wheezing and sharp, made him feel even hotter, the sparks gathering in his balls, overtaking him, making him tense.

“Ah! I...I love you!” Clutched tight to the statue, crying out as he came, his hips twitching spastically against the softness of the moss covering the statue's thighs.

Breathing heavy and still clinging to the stone shoulders of his statue, Tamrin breathed heavily, trying to get his bearings. His body was all tight and hot, full of zinging jolts and coupled with the alcohol, making him very sleepy. But then with a start, he shoved himself away, stumbling backwards and staring at the mess he'd left behind.

Oh lord, how shameful!

The whiteness of his seed stood out in stark contrast to the dark green moss and sullied the statue. It was a stain. Tamrin blushed, still shaking from his orgasm and now from the new fear of what he'd done. It'd been a moment of weakness and he'd taken something beautiful and made it dirty. He'd dirtied it!

Tamrin jumped to his feet on shaky legs, backing up slowly. “I...I'm...” He felt himself wither under that expressionless stare. “I'm sorry!” Then he turned and stumbled away, pulling up his undone pants and sprinting through the maze. So distraught was he that he collided with several hedge walls and broken stones along the way.

When he made it out, he didn't even stop, just kept running towards the castle, not caring if anyone saw, not caring if anyone thought to find out where he was coming from.

At the door to the kitchens, he tore it open and sped inside, not caring that there was a woman tending to the fireplace, and brushing by her without word.

Rushing all the way up to his bedroom, where he slammed the door behind him. Shame and spent lust warring inside him, he threw himself onto his bed, head dizzy from the alcohol, and groin still tingling from his earlier orgasm. How disgraceful he'd been! Rubbing against that poor statue like some sort of lecherous whore. He couldn't even contain his teenage desires?

No, instead, he gets overwhelmed and lets his urges rule his behavior. And what a horrible thing to do to a work of art. It was disrespectful, is what it was.

Though...Tamrin couldn't help but remember how good it had felt. How hard he'd been and how easily he'd come. Imagining those stone arms wrapped around him and holding him. Those lips taking his own...

He shivered again, burying his face in his pillows. His statue...

His thoughts as he fell asleep were of his statue's face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tamrin woke in an awkward position, with his legs all curled up to his chest and his arms flung behind him. It was difficult to shift to a sitting position, and he whimpered at the ache in his joints. As he righted himself, an unwelcome throb made him clench his head tightly.

“Oh lord, my head...Ugh...”

It wasn't bad. Only a slight hangover, but coupled with the stiffness of his joints, it was still awful. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and went to the water bowl by the side of his bed. Slowly he poured some cool water from the pitcher into the porcelain sink, then he splashed it onto his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and running his dripping fingers through his hair. Then he grabbed his brush and tried to tame his wild black mane of hair. Tight curls only made worse by his fitful sleep and the adventures of the night before-

Oh lord. He'd...

Oh, it all came rushing back.

How could he have been so...so...naive? To behave like that...To get drunk and consort with a lifeless statue? Who did that? Children did that. Tamrin realized abruptly that he was being a child. Playing with made-up friends just because he was unwilling to accept his fate as the future king.

It was time to end this. Time to say goodbye. One more time, and then, he wouldn't go to the maze anymore. He'd focus on his studies and be a good student, and finally make peace with Master Jerrin, because really, what was so bad about Jerrin? Nothing. He was only doing his job, and once Tamrin became king, he'd have the choice to promote Jerrin to be his own assistant, or keep him for a teacher to his own eventual children.

Tamrin took a deep breath and vowed he would change his ways. Everything would be different starting today, he could just feel it. There was even a different feeling to the air. Something magical.

Yes, today was the day. He'd go to Jerrin and confess his lie the day before, explain he'd been upset, and then, they'd start lessons like normal.

But first, he'd go say goodbye to...his friend. He had to.

Dressing in fresh clothes quickly, Tamrin escaped his room and snuck down the winding hallways to the backyard. With the hope that no one was looking out the window at that moment, he jogged to the maze, quickly entering and following his well-traveled path to the grove.

Left, right, right, right, left, straight, left, right, through the overgrown wall and into his hideaway.

All was as he'd left it the night before except for one thing. The statue...

It no longer stood proudly on it's pedestal, smiling at him and posing so handsomely. No, now it was...

Broken. It was lying in pieces all around it's mantel, like a soldier collapsed in their last moments of life. Though...not even give the consideration of laying where they've fallen, because the statue was scattered in bits and pieces all over the ground. Fragments and chunks of that familiar form thrown about, as if thrown.

He closed the distance between himself and the nearest pile, kneeling wordlessly, chest tight. How did this happen? How could this have happened?! No one knew of his grove! He'd set traps, little leaves or twigs that would have been disturbed if someone had known about this place, if someone had come. Nothing had been disturbed, but here his statue was broken.

The pieces scattered in his hands as he tried to gather them up, more pieces crumbling off onto the ground. Only the shattered remains of that comforting face remained, held tight as his breathing picked up, making his shake. One of the larger pieces was a shard of face, with that nose and one eye gazing lifelessly at him.

“No...” He sobbed, emotion making it hard to speak. “Please, no...My only friend...Lord, no...” But it was no use. The statue truly was ruined, and he clutched the sharp pieces tight to his chest, crying hard and shuddering from the force of it. The only friend he had in the world, gone. Broken. Destroyed. “No...”

Now he really was alone. The one person, the one...thing he'd cared for...he'd loved...It was gone. There would be no one to run to anymore. No one to rely on. No one to listen to him, or comfort him, or be there when he needed them.

The fact that he was crying over a broken statue only made him cry harder, because the fact that his friend hadn't been real didn't mean anything. It was still something he loved, and he held the pieces like a lover.

Footsteps were approaching from behind him, where he'd entered this grove, quiet and slow.

“Prince Tamrin?”

“Go 'way...” He muttered thickly, sniffing, hiding his face. “Leave me alone...” His voice broke on the last syllables, and he gasped to fight the next rising tremors of grief. “Go away!” Then he broke down again. It was too much to deal with. And now someone had intruded on his private moment.

“Prince Tamrin?” The person knelt next down beside him. “Prince Tamrin, please let go of that.” They gently took the shattered face out of his hands, prying his fingers away with great care. “You've hurt yourself, see? You're bleeding.”

Through his tears, Tamrin could indeed see that his fingers had been cut from the shards of stone, when he'd gripped them so tight. It was good though. Why shouldn't he bleed for his statue? If the Statue could not bleed, he would bleed for him.

The sound of ripping cloth, then a tattered strip of tunic was wrapped around his hand, bound over his fingers and tightened. A warm hand covered his own. “There, that should be good enough until you get something proper.”

Proper. Proper proper proper. He was so sick of proper! Lifting his head to voice exactly that, he caught eyes with his finder and struck instantly silent.

That nose.

It was...He glanced up over the face of the boy kneeling before him, smiling at him, holding his hand in a warm palm. It was his statue!

But, not gray and cold, instead warm and beautifully colored! Warm brown eyes and thick brown hair, curled and wind-blown just like from his beloved stone friend. Was it possible? It had to be! For that nose was unmistakable. Broad and pointed, with that noticeable crook half-way down that gave him a mischievous appearance.

Tamrin felt his chest constrict painfully, and he tried to pull his hand away, afraid this was some sort of sick joke. But his hand was held tight, and as his brain tried to process what was happening, the youth in front of him grinned, tilting down to press a soft kiss to the back of Tamrin's hand.

“Your highness,” He murmured, saying that word like no one ever had before, without a hint of authority or responsibility. It was more of a breath, a soft declaration that made Tamrin shiver. “Shall I still wait here for you tonight?”

And that's when Tamrin passed out. With his statue-come-to-life smirking down at him as he swooned back.

The last thing he felt was a soft caress on his cheek, then everything went dark.

TO BE CONTINUED

AN: If you guys liked this, go check out my Author's page for other Slash stories. I'm the author of both "Love Me" and "Rooftop", and I've got MANY more writings. Fan-fiction too! But all M/M.