Second Sight

Title: Second Sight
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Category: Original Fantasy, "Strings of Fate" storyline, Direct sequel to "Perceived Perceptions", An Eye of the Beholder Book
Pairing: Liam/Jasim, Tamall/Danne, Blaise/Conni, Others
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Oral, Daemon Sex, Blood-play, BDSM, Violence, Mentions of past child abuse/rape, Angst, Language, Death
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Status: Work In Progress/Novel Length

Author's Notes: Finally. A new chapter. Sorry that these haven't been coming on a regular basis, but RL seems to get in the way far too often. Never fear though, faithful readers, because I do actually have the entier plot worked out and I would never abandon a story, even if it does take me a bit longer than usual to get the whole thing out to you. But remember, the more reivews, the more feeback, the quicker updates are likely to get to you.

Also, if anyone ever wants to contact me about any of my stories, I've changed emails recently. I'm no longer at makaikitty@yahoo.com (in fact, I actually diabled that account) but you can reach me at TorchwoodKitty@yahoo.com

Second Sight

Book II in the Eye of the Beholder Series

Chapter Ten: On the Road

“I can’t see why we can’t just go after them.”

“Because,” Danne said, for what felt like the hundredth time, “I want to draw out his suffering for as long as I can.”

“But-“

“They’re sure to know by now that someone is hunting them, they might even know that it’s me, and that idiot terkarian is sure to be sweating it out and looking over his shoulder at every opportunity. It’ll drive him mad.”

“So we’re just going to sit here and wait for them and hope that, by not doing anything, we’re annoying them?” From anyone else it would have sounded like whining. “We’ve already been in these stupid mountains for a week now. I’m getting bored.”

That statement sent a slight shiver down Danne’s back. When Tamall was bored he liked to play to pass the time, and most of his games of late seemed to involve Danne’s body and a sharp instrument or two, the blood stains scattered throughout the small cabin speaking volumes of the sort of games that entertained the mercenary. And, although it may have been Danne’s imagination, he seemed to be getting more creative by the day. They were alone in an isolated mountain pass, holed up in a small shack that, from the looks of the webbing in the corners and the thickness of the grime on the two small windows, had been standing vigil on the mountainside for more years than they’d both been alive. It might have been used by hunters in the past, or as a rest stop for travelers who could go no further when the often times harsh weather got the best of them, and it had proved useful for what Danne had in mind. However, on the down side, the shack consisted of just one small room, an ancient table in the center of the room, and one dingy bed huddled in the corner, and it left him nowhere to hide from Tamall’s sharp and hungry predator’s gaze.

“I don’t even know why you’re insisting on doing this, it’s a waste of time and hardly worth the effort,” Tamall almost sounded sane when he made the suggestion, but then he smiled a too-wide smile and said, “I saw a cute little village at the base of the mountain. We should just go down there, kill them all, burn the village, and then give up on this stupid plan of yours.”

“No!” Danne shouted, “I will have my revenge.”

“Revenge,” Tamall repeated, cocking his head to the side and giving a look that clearly told Danne that he thought he was the lunatic among them. “What do they owe you for? You’re the one who was fucking with their little princess in the first place. If anyone should want revenge it’s the Trovillan royal family, not the other way round.”

“I-“

“And why were you so mean to her, him,” Tamall corrected himself, “in the first place? The kid was actually pretty cute, in a dress or out, and as sweet as nortal sugar creams on top of it all. He didn’t like me for some reason, but I don’t see why you had to be so terrible to the poor little thing.”

Danne couldn’t believe that he was being given a lecture on the merits of being kind to others by Tamall, of all people, and it left him momentarily speechless. First the man wanted to burn a village to the ground for no good reason other than it was there, and now he wanted to know why he hadn’t been nicer to Trovilla’s princess? He really couldn’t understand the man sometimes. In fact, he couldn’t understand him most of the time. Why should now be any different.

“I will have my revenge,” he repeated, voice a deep growl, daring Tamall to argue. “The guard is just the first to fall. They will all pay. Every. Last. Goddess damned. One of them.”

Tamall considered him for a moment longer and then shrugged, as though the outcome of their mission was suddenly of no real concern to him, evidently content to let the matter drop for the time being. Although, as another not-quite-right smile spread across his handsome face, Tamall’s companion was left with no questions that his sudden acquiescence would come at a price.

“I’m still bored,” Tamall said, “Best do something about that then.”

***
The ride into the forest was tense, to say the least. Liam set a hard pace, although he held back as much as he could, sure that Jasim was used to a more leisurely riding style. If he even rode at all when back on the small island that they had just abandoned. The soldiers he was sure could keep up. And, if they couldn’t, it didn’t matter much to Liam. He had nothing to say to Lord Tournkin’s men, and he didn’t want to say anything to the man’s son, so he avoided everyone and kept to the front of their parade.

Laughter, high and bright yet somehow off, reached his ears a few hours into the first day’s journey and Liam involuntarily turned his head to look behind him. Jasim was riding between two young guards, smiling and laughing with them, his body language making up for the distance and letting Liam know that their conversation was far from polite banter between a guard and his young charge. Then Jasim’s eyes met his, blue locking onto plum, and his smile grew into something far more suggestive, one scaled brow rising in an unmistakable invitation. Liam looked away as quickly as his dignity would allow.

Another laugh sounded beside him, and Liam almost welcomed the distraction that the de facto leader of Lord Tournkin’s men riding up beside him suddenly provided. He took a moment to consider the man, letting his eyes roam for a brief moment before meeting the other man’s eyes. The soldier was tall and broad, a bit more strongly built than most of his countrymen, the deep blue of the hair that cascaded down his back in waves the color of the sea at midnight, his laughing eyes a shade so dark that they might be black. The dappled sunlight seeping in from the trees that were beginning to appear beside them was shining off of the scales along his forehead and brow, a distraction to the eye. Blue lips, darker than most of the makara that he had seen thus far, spread wide when he smiled at King Cristopher’s captain.

“Don’t let them get to you,” he inclined his head to the rest of their party, “it’s nothing personal.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Liam feigned ignorance, wishing for all the world that he spoke the truth. He wasn’t sure why the young hybrid was affecting him so greatly still, or why he was allowing himself to be bothered by either the boy’s behavior or his own, but it was not a question that he wished to puzzle through with a stranger. Or with anyone, for that matter. And why the boy wouldn’t just let him be was a greater mystery still.

“My name’s Karsten,” he said instead of answering for his earlier statement, undaunted by Liam’s silence, “I’ve been in the guard for the past forty-three years.”

Liam nodded.

“I’ve seen a lot in the past few decades.”

Liam nodded again. He thought that he might just know where this conversation was going, and it made him want to spur his animal on and ride off, far ahead of anyone else. Only his sense of duty, the certainty that Jasim was safer with him than without should anyone be perusing them, kept him where he was.

“I can only think of maybe five or six of Lord Tournkin’s guard that Jasim hasn’t bedded at some point,” Karsten said matter-of-factly, another wide smile splitting his dark face, “And even fewer of the high lord’s guests have gotten away without a taste of the boy. He’ll leave you alone just as soon as he finds someone else to set his sights on.”

Liam wasn’t the most talkative of men at the best of times, even less so when it came to unfamiliar daemons who had not earned his trust, but these words left him truly speechless. What was he supposed to say to Karsten’s assurances? Thank you? I’m sure that you’re right? He only succeeded in his seduction because I was weak, and drunk, and filled with inner demons, and now that I’m away from your goddess awful island I won’t be caught in his trap again? None of those seemed right, or appropriate, and he wondered if Karsten even expected an answer. He sincerely hoped not.

“The brat’s a slut, plain and simple,” Karsten said, obviously not deterred by Liam’s lack of response, “If he’d been born to a different family he’d probably be a cheap whore working the streets down by the dock for a couple of bucks a turn. Instead, he spends his time wreaking havoc on his father’s reputation and generally getting on the nerves of everyone he meets. Just ignore him and I’m sure that the boys will be able to keep him out of your hair for the next few days.”

“That is your high lord’s son you’re talking about,” Liam felt the need to point out, oddly offended by the other man’s words, even though he neither cared for the young man in question nor for the opinions of a guard that he would never see again when the week was through. “Perhaps you should show a bit more respect.”

“Respect,” Karsten laughed, seemingly not offended by Liam’s rebuke, “How am I supposed to respect the little tart when I’ve seen him with his ankles up around his head more times than I can count, or when he’s all but begged me for my cock half a dozen times personally, in just the past few months? He’s only good for one thing, and you don’t need to respect him for those skills to be effective.”

“Still-“ Liam was getting angry, and he grew even more angry when he realized that he was feeling that way. It shouldn’t bother him, one way or the other, what Karsten said about Jasim. The boy was nothing to him.

“Look, he’s obviously got his eye on you,” the look on his face conveyed a mixture of amusement and pity, oblivious to the terkarian’s mounting anger, “I say that you take advantage of that fact while you can. He’s not good for much else, but he’ll keep your bedroll warm at night while you’re stuck on this stupid baby sitting mission that your king has sent you on, so why not take advantage of the opportunity that you’re being given. It’s not like the bitch won’t let you do whatever you want to him. I mean, honestly, how often do you get a free pass to do whatever you want, huh? If you don’t want him I’ll take him, my girl won’t let me get away with half of the crap I’ve tried on him, but since you’re in charge I’ll be more than happy to step aside and let you have him. It’s up to you. Just say the word.”

Thankfully, an ill-placed step caused Jasim’s mount to stumble before Liam was able to say anything in response, and when Karsten moved off to check on the younger daemon Liam was more than happy to go in his place. He wasn’t willing to think over much on why, but he was suddenly feeling protective of Jasim and he didn’t want the other man anywhere near his charge. He didn’t even take offense to the welcoming leer that he received for his efforts when he reached Jasim’s side, although he surely wouldn’t have been so kind in response to the almost twin expression on Karsten’s face.

***
When dusk fell and the light began to fade, the small group of soldiers made camp on the lush bed of the forest floor. They made a fire in a small circle of stones, their bedrolls near enough to enjoy the warmth of the fire and far enough away to keep themselves safe from stray sparks, a few fallen logs rolled near to the flames so that they could sit and talk in companionable tones while their meager dinner of dried travel provisions was eaten. Paaragora was a small island, the guard smaller still, so each man knew each other well, save for Liam. That was no concern of the terkarian however, as his earlier talk with Karsten had left him with a bitter aftertaste and he had no desire to talk with the other daemons as a result, instead choosing to take a seat between Jasim and the other men, while still staying as far away from the young daemon as possible. He wanted to protect the boy, if possible, from the wandering eyes of the Paaragorian but he did not want to invite the flirtations that always seemed to dance in the azure depths of the young hybrid. It was the proverbial rock and a hard place situation, and it left Liam in a decidedly unfriendly mood.

“See anything interesting in there?”

The only recently familiar voice startled Liam out of his thoughts, and he looked up from where he had been studying the dancing flames, his plum colored eyes painted black by the fire. If the momentary widening of Jasim’s own eyes were any indication, it was a dark portrait that the change painted.

“No,” he answered simply, hoping that the other man would see his curt answer as an end unto itself and realize that he had no interest in idle fireside chitchat. Unfortunately for him, Jasim was not so easily deterred.

“This is the first time I’ve been off of the island,” Jasim said with an almost childlike smile that was at odds with the image that Liam had already drawn for himself of the younger daemon. He wanted to shrug off the comment, but there was something about the bright, innocent light in the suddenly wide blue eyes that reminded him of his young prince back home, making him remember the conversation that had led to his journey in the first place. It made him at least try for kindness when he spoke.

“You sound like Conni,” he answered, a fond, if slight, smile on his lips. A muted snort proceeded his next words, the idea not quite far fetched enough to earn a laugh. “Between the two of you the king will probably be convinced to make me take you both on a fieldtrip before year’s end.”

“Conni,” Jasim seemed to perk up at the unfamiliar name, “Is that your lover?”

Liam coughed on the sip of tea that he’d just taken, sputtering and coughing while glaring up at a giggling Jasim. “Lover?” he managed to growl, throat gone raw and mind truly shell-shocked, “Conni? My lover?”

Jasim didn’t seem to understand his companion’s reaction. It seemed an honest assumption to him.

“Conni,” Liam explained, trying to maintain some dignity as he wiped at the spill that still spotted the front of his shirt, glaring at Jasim as he spoke, “Is Prince Constantine of Trovilla, the youngest member of the royal family. And he is not,” Liam put particular emphasis on the word, intent on making things crystal clear, “my lover. He’s married to Prince Blaise, a man that I consider to be a friend and, besides, I have been at his side since his birth.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be your lover too,” Jasim pointed out, for once not joking or teasing. His brother’s wife, Esmeralda, was married and that didn’t stop his father from taking her to his bed. In fact, he was relatively certain that his brother could care less one way or the other, and Esmeralda and Lord Tournkin certainly didn’t mind the familiar connections.

Liam was about to snap at Jasim for suggesting that he would bed Blaise’s mate, but something about the look on the boy’s face told him that he needed to give a better answer than, Shut up, “You’ll see that things in Trovilla are different than they are where you come from. Conni would never be my lover, for any number of reasons, and that is as it should be.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“My father,” Jasim shrugged. His father rarely spoke to him, except to yell at him or berate him, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t hear things that he said to others in his presence. “He seemed to have some fond memories of Trovilla, even if he did seem pissed at the old king for some reason.”

“The old king is dead,” Liam said, allowing himself a small smile at the freedom that such a thing meant for everyone that he knew and cared about, “And Trovilla is not the place that your father remembers. The very reasons that your father probably enjoyed our land are the same reasons that King Samuel reigns no more.”

“You seem happy about that,” Jasim questioned. He hadn’t much cared for the stories that he had heard fall from his father’s lips either, but no one on his small island seemed to know what Trovilla was about now that the old regime had fallen, so different didn’t necessarily mean good in his mind.

Liam wasn’t quite sure how to explain what it had been like before Cristopher had taken the throne, or what the changes that the young king had brought to their kingdom had done to the land and the people, but he tried as best he could to speak directly to the heart of the matter. “If you had ever seen him with his sons, even for an instant, then you would understand. He never loved his children, not the way that he should have. A man who can’t love his children can’t love his people. And a man who can’t love his people has no business being king.”

Jasim tilted his head to the side, considering. It had not been the answer that he’d expected.

“I heard stories,” Jasim said after a long pause, not sure if he dared bring up the subject that he had been wondering about. When he spoke out of turn at home, or brought up a subject that his father didn’t wish to see discussed, he was used to a good backhand to shut him up. He didn’t think that this new daemon, this terkarian who lived so far from the sea, was like that, but he had been wrong about people before. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he feared with utter certainty that it would not be the last either. “About what happened before the old king died.”

“I’m sure that you have,” Liam didn’t really want to talk about what he was certain was about to be brought up, but he also didn’t feel that he had the right to remain silent either. Trovilla would be Jasim’s home now, and its history, both good and bad, would be a part of his life in the very near future. It entitled him to some answers, at the very least. “King Samuel tried very hard to keep our lands very isolated, but such is not the case under King Cristopher. I only wonder how much of the truth has traveled the distance.”

“I heard that the old king made his son dress up as a princess and then tried to sell him off to a mercenary.”

It was more or less the truth, so Liam just nodded, letting Jasim go on if he wanted to. When the boy wasn’t batting his eyelashes like a fifty-cent whore and trying his best to cling to the nearest man like a cat in heat, he was almost pleasant company it seemed. It wouldn’t hurt to sit still and listen, Liam decided.

“I also heard that you’re still hunting the man that nearly won the game,” then Jasim said something that caught Liam a bit off guard. “I met him once, do you know that?”

“Danne?” the single word, the accursed name, was all but growled out through clenched teeth.

“Yup,” Jasim only cringed a little when the man beside him tensed up, watching for the blur of movement that would signal a hand, or a fist, aimed to quiet him, but when Liam did nothing more than glare he decided it was safe to press on, “My father hired him and some of his clansmen to take care of some bandits that were troubling our trade routes on land.”

“Yet more proof that your father is a fool,” Liam hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but when Jasim burst into a raucous fit of laughter beside him, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d almost forgotten that Jasim didn’t hold his father in any higher regard than he himself did.

“But I am not,” Jasim said after a time, his mirth fading quickly at the memories, “At least, not where that man is concerned. He seemed nice enough, and he was definitely pretty, but even I had the good sense to stay clear of him.”

“You may not have ever left your island before, but I think that you’ve seen more than most, at least where the characters of men are concerned,” he didn’t blame Conni for having been fooled for so long by the charming yet conniving Danne, but it still pained him that the young noble had had to learn his lesson in such a painful way. Jasim, it seemed, would not have needed nearly so much time to learn that it was best to stay clear of anything that looked too good to be true.

“I hear that he took a shine to your prince,” Jasim shuddered at the idea, “I pity the poor boy for that, but I can tell you one thing,” Liam only raised a dark brow, encouraging Jasim to go on, obviously curious to see what he would have to say, “If that prick had laid a hand on me I would have castrated him.”

Liam’s laugh was humorless, although the thought of Danne being rendered impotent and incapable of harming another as he had Constantine did have a certain appeal to it, “He may not have had the strength to resist him at the start, at least not physically, but I can assure you that our prince is one of the strongest men that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. To have lived the life that he has lived and to survive it with his spirit unbroken is a testament to that strength.”

Jasim just shrugged, “Wouldn’t know much about being unbroken,” he said under his breath, relieved when Liam either didn’t hear him or chose to remain silent. Louder, he said, “If you say so. I haven’t met him, so I wouldn’t know.”

“You will,” Liam promised.

***
It was several hours before everyone settled down to rest, but eventually the campfire stories stopped and the soldiers of Lord Tournkin’s guard settled down for a few hours rest, and soon the only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the small fire at the heart of their camp and the gentle bubbling of a nearby brook. It was, Liam thought to himself as he lay back on his bedroll, hands clasped behind his head as his eyes tried to pick shapes out of the shadows that the canopy of trees made above them, peaceful. It had been too long since he had slept out of doors, and he promised himself that once he returned home to the castle he’d take time to himself more often to go camping in the surrounding wilderness, even if it was only for a night or two at a time. The thought brought a smile to his often stern face, and he sighed contentedly, rolling onto his side and preparing to settle in for the night. If he was forced to have the other men accompanying him, then at least he could take advantage of their presence and get in a restful nights sleep while he allowed the others to take watch. He feared that such would be a luxury denied him once he was left alone to guard Jasim on the last leg of their journey.

Thinking of his duty made him open his eyes again and search the darkness for his young charge. Talking with the boy had actually been pleasant once he had stopped making every word and look an obvious invitation, and Liam was beginning to think that he might enjoy the rest of the journey with the Paaragorian born daemon at his side. He’d heard a sadness that was all too familiar in the younger man’s words, but he’d also found an intelligent and spirited mind behind all of the innuendo, and Liam wondered if it was just a matter of getting him as far away from his former island home as possible before Jasim became a much more enjoyable companion.

He’d had no objections when Jasim had settled his bedroll next to his own, confident that the boy was close enough at hand that he could protect him should trouble arise and that he was far enough away from Karsten for the two to cross paths. The conversation with the other soldier, combined with the looks that the older daemon had been giving the younger all night had unnerved Liam, and he knew that he would sleep better knowing that he lay between the two, an effective and ever alert barrier should Karsten decided to make good on his earlier intentions. Something that Liam did not intend to allow. He was not just protecting Jasim from mercenaries anymore.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness that was cast across his vision when he turned his back to the fire Liam had to blink a few times to force his eyes to take in the sights around him. Was it just his imagination, or was Jasim much closer than he had been when first they’d settled down for the night? He could have sworn that there was had been an arm’s length, if not more, of space between them. Now, however, he was surprised that the tip of his nose had not brushed against the feather-like hair that sat, wild and unruly, atop Jasim’s head when he’d rolled himself over.

Jasim, obviously still awake and laying in wait for the moment when Liam would notice him and his sudden close proximity, grinned when he found that he had at last been seen. His teeth, small and straight and purest white, glinted in the firelight and stood out brightly in the darkness. “I thought you might appreciate some company,” he said simply.

“Did you,” Liam queried, wondering how he had let himself believe that things would suddenly be easier between them simply because of one slightly enlightening conversation. He cursed himself, and his foul run of luck, and tried to scoot his body further back without drawing the attention of the others or making it seem like he was running away from a boy a hundred and fifty pounds smaller and several decades younger than himself.

“It’s cold out here, and body heat can help a man sleep,” Jasim said, “or so I’ve heard.”

Liam’s brows shot up, sitting high on his forehead, showing his incredulous disbelief. It was, if anything, a bit too warm beside the fire, the weather being unseasonably warm and the threat of storms nowhere to be seen. He tossed his blanket towards Jasim, hoping to end the conversation before it went somewhere that he did not want to go. He could still remember the feel of the other’s silky soft skin against his own, could still taste his salty sweat on the tip of his tongue, and he did not wish a repeat performance, no matter what his own body was saying to him. Or, rather, shouting. “If you’re cold then you can use my blanket. Good night.”

Liam rolled over quickly, hoping that Jasim would get the idea and settle down, conserving his strength for the ride ahead. Seconds later, however, a slight body was plastered against his back and Liam knew that he would not have it near so easy.

“There are better ways of keeping warm,” Jasim whispered in his ear, lips brushing one sharply pointed tip, causing Liam to involuntarily shudder. He tried to tell himself it was just a reaction to a passing breeze, but the fact that the leaves on the trees did not so much as rustle belied the truth in that statement.

“I’m sure that there are,” Liam answered, trying again to scoot away without admitting defeat, “You’ll have to tell me about them sometime. Some other time. Now, go to sleep, we’ve got a long day of riding ahead of us.”

“We could have a long night of riding ahead of us too, if you’d just stop moving away and come over here,” Jasim’s laughter was low and seductive, and Liam mentally smacked himself for his poor choice of words. “And I guarantee my way will be a lot more fun than what we’ll be doing come sunrise.”

Liam held his tongue. Partially because he wasn’t sure what to say to dissuade Jasim from his current course, and, in part, because he feared what would come out of his own mouth. He certainly knew how his body wished him to respond, if the sudden heat that was growing low in his gut was any indication, and he did not quite trust himself to speak lest he find himself waking to yet another morning of regret.

When he was silent for a long while, only the sound of two sets of breaths breaking the stillness around them, Liam at last felt the weight at his back retreat. For a moment he longed to retreat after the warmth and comfort that Jasim’s presence had provided, but he forced himself to remain still, certain that Jasim wanted to do more than simply keep him warm this night. He was not, however, nearly as happy to know that Jasim had given up as he had thought that he would be.

Later that night, when sleep still eluded him, Liam once again rolled onto his back and let his eyes play in the shadows. It was not nearly as restful an exercise as it had been only hours before, and when he found himself watching a pair of shadows intertwined and dancing in the firelight, the muffled sounds of passion reaching his ears from across the campsite, he did his best to ignore the pang of regret that sounded deep within him and struggled once again to fall asleep.

TBC ...