Rise.

Warning: This chapter's a bit different - not in a sexual way, it does deal a bit more with kids, namely Medin, Ro & Marik's varon. Nothing happens to him, but it gets a bit intense for a while. This chapter should help to set up some stuff that happens later.

One week later.

After spending the early morning in classes, Róan had decided to skip his afternoon course, and had gone home for a much-needed nap in the quiet of his own home. When he woke up, the sun was just moving into the afternoon sky and his stomach was rumbling from hunger. He'd missed the afternoon meal and hadn't spoken to his mate all day. He stretched, threw off the heavy blanket he slept under when Marik wasn't around to keep him warm, and padded barefoot into the hallway. A strange and sudden thump a few doors down caught his attention, and he whipped his head in that direction, listening carefully.
"Marik?" he called quietly, suddenly realizing how empty their quarters were and feeling very alone. There was another thump, which made Róan jump, but this time, it was accompanied by familiar laughter. Intrigued, Róan padded quietly farther down the hall, stopping when he realized the sound came from Medin's door.
Alarmed, Róan opened it to a great surprise.
"Medin, are you OK?"
"Mate Róan!"
Medin was in fact, very much OK, although probably quite a bit less so since the door had opened.
He and the young wolfe with whose legs his own were intertwined had identical looks of mortification and fear. Taking sudden action, Medin flipped the juvenile wolfe off him and jumped to his feet. The wolfe, for his part, took this as cue, got up and bolted out of the door, nearly knocking Róan over in the process. Róan caught just the slightest glimpse of tail as he went, and then he and Medin were left standing there together, just gaping at each other.
"Medin, what's going on?"
Medin looked anxious, eyes darting like rabbits, then shrugged.
"I - I don't know."
"Sit down." Róan said in a very blank voice. Medin did so, balanced anxiously on the edge of his bed, hair still mussed. "And stay sitting down until Marik gets home."
At this, Medin leapt to his feet.
"Please don't mention this to Alpha Marik!" Róan could hear the sincere fear in his vocie, and it made him more suspicious.
"Why don't you tell me what's going on." he replied, making no promises. Medin looked away, then sat down.
"That was Walker. He's my..." Medin struggled for a word that would get him in the least amount of trouble. "Friend." he finally settled on. Róan continued to watch him.
"Uh huh. What was he doing in your room?"
Without blinking, Medin said,
"He walked me home. He wanted to be sure I was OK. I wasn't feeling so great at classes today. Only thing is, he's supposed to be at school right now, so he didn't want to get in trouble. That's probably why he ran."
Medin's tone dropped on the last word, and Róan pressed further.
"How long have you been home?"
"Oh, not long." Medin kept his voice casual.
"Long enough to shower. And change clothes. That's not what you left in this morning."
"Yeah, I thought a shower might help me feel better."
"Oh. So you came home....like around an hour ago." Róan sat down next to Medin, who wisely held his position, on the bed.
"I guess." Noncommittal.
"So at one."
"Yeah."
"Don't you take lunch at 12?"
No response.
"So if you felt sick, why'd you wait until one to come home?"
Medin blinked quickly, but only shrugged in response.
"How old is Walker?"
"16."
"So what year of general classes is he? I forget how school works here."
Medin sensed a trap, but didn't know how to avoid the question.
"He doesn't take generals anymore, he's in training now."
Róan nodded.
"So then he wasn't supposed to be in school right now."
Medin thought fast.
"I meant...warrior school."
Róan just looked at him.
"Stay here until Marik gets home."
"No! Mate Róan, please!"
Róan shook his head. He wasn't sure what was going on here, but he was sure it wasn't exactly right.
"You had your chance to talk, Medin."
"Please!"
"Nyet."
Róan went to the door to leave, and Medin played his trump card.
"He'll beat me."
Róan stopped.
"Chto?"
"I said he'll beat me. Mate Róan, please - you can't tell him, he'll be angry that I had guests here without permission. He'll be so angry, please Mate, don't tell him, don't."
"Tell me what?"
Now both Róan and Medin looked terrified. Marik looked towards Medin, and slowly cocked his head.
"What's that smell?"
Still sitting on the bed, Medin started to shake a little. Róan stepped in between them.
"Marik! You startled me." he tried to smile and realized he probably looked just as nervous and guilty as Medin. He felt guilty too, which was unreasonable - he refused to believe he was scared to get in trouble for conspiring with a fourteen year old. Bravely, he took a few steps towards his mate.
"You're home early, too. Holiday for everyone, I guess! Are you hungry? I can call for some food, we can - "
"No, Róan." Marik didn't sound angry, more...distracted. He was still scenting the air, Róan realized, and once again his mate's strong abilities nearly frightened him. Sometimes it was easy to forget how different they were, how much of an advantage Marik had over him. Other times, it wasn't.
"There was a wolfe here." Róan saw Marik glance over at him, but the accusation only existed for a moment before he gathered more from the scent. "A juvenile wolfe." His gaze shifted to Medin. "The scent is still very strong." Medin was doing an admirable job of not looking as anxious as he must have felt.
"Explain."
"I just didn't feel well at school, and then he walked me home and he came in for a minute. Walker's just my friend. That's all that happened." Medin was not, Róan noticed, any more believable reciting his story to Marik. Marik took it in stride.
"And where is he now?"
"Um, he went home." Medin glanced for only a quarter second at Róan, but Marik caught it and frowned.
"Róan, will you please wait for me in the bedroom?" It wasn't a question and Róan knew it, but he decided to take his liberties and treat it as such. He still remembered what Medin had said about Marik's anger.
"I'd rather stay here."
Medin looked immensely grateful and Róan smiled a little encouraging smile at him. Marik glared.
"Very well. Medin. Both your guardians are here now, so I'm going to give you one chance to tell me exactly what is going on. Now."
Medin hesitated and looked up at Róan. Róan shrugged back at him. Marik took this badly, and his voice lowered to the one Róan had heard him use with new trainees who botched drills with stupid mistakes.
"Róan, sit. Medin, listen." Marik himself drew out a chair from Medin's table and sat down in it, leaning forward with his elbow on one knee.
"I'm not home today because it's a damn holiday." Róan took some affront to this statement.
"I'm home because in between drills today, I ran into your classmate, Róan - Amesar. He's mated to one of my lieges, and had come to meet him after drills - a thoughtful touch, isn't that?"
Róan wasn't sure if that comment was pointed or not.
"Amesar said he hadn't seen you since the morning. Asked if you were alright, said you weren't feeling well and had gone home to rest. I rang home, no answer, so I thought maybe you'd gone back to classes. Rang the Center, and was assured that although Róan had gone home, he was fine - 'probably just caught whatever's been keeping Medin from classes.'"
Marik looked the young varon over.
"You don't look sick, Medin."
Medin was studiously eyeing the carpet.
"I didn't feel well this morning."
"But Walker only brought you home just now?"
Medin just quit answering.
"Hmm." Marik said, as if musing over this piece of information for the first time. "That's more or less what I thought."
"So while the rest of it seems like minor mischief, there is one piece that really concerns me, Medin: Just who the hell is Walker, anyway?"
Medin glanced at Róan one more time. He opened his mouth to speak, but Marik interrupted him.
"If you're thinking of lying again, don't bother."
The calm words belied his anger. There was a long, torturous pause, then:
"I love him."
Marik growled and sighed a resigned sigh that made Róan think they were both in for a simple long lecture, but again he saw a display of wolfish abilities as his mate was across the room in seconds. Before Róan could even register what was happening, he snatched Medin up by one arm and began to drag him towards his sitting room. Medin resisted, but Marik ignored the feeble protests and went on. Fearful, Medin cast a look back at his alpha mate.
"Róan!"
The sound of his name, cried out in desperation, had Róan on his feet chasing behind them immediately. In Medin's sitting room, he met them. Marik still had a grip on the youth, but was using one hand to retrieve a thick strap hanging in the closet there. Róan took Marik's wrist in his hand and pulled it back.
"Stop! What are you doing to him? Leave him alone!"
Marik looked, bewildered, at his mate.
"Róan, he has to be punished. You saw what he did."
"But not like this! Not this way! He's a child!"
"Exactly! He must be taught while he is young."
Medin had ceased struggling now, listening rapt to the discussion between his two caretakers.
"I won't let you beat him."
"I'm not going to beat him. Cattle and rugs are beaten. Medin will be punished."
"Don't touch him."
"Róan, this is becoming ridiculous." There was warning in Marik's voice, but Róan ignored it again.
"If you want to punish him, put him in his room or send him to bed with no meals or something!"
"Put him in his room? He's in there half the day anyway. And I won't starve him, that's cruel."
"This is cruel!"
"This is going to keep him from becoming a little tral."
Both Medin and Róan winced at the curse and the venom behind it. That decided it. Róan remembered how harshly Stephen had punished Euan in his anger, and found his restraint only hours later, and regretted. His regret had been of little comfort to Euan, and it hadn't healed his wounds any faster. Róan would not stand to see it happen again, and especially not to someone entrusted to his care and control. Steadily, he straightened his back and tightened his shoulders.
"Let him go."
Marik was outright annoyed now.
"Róan, enough. Find yourself in the bedroom."
Róan ignored this.
"Róan, I gave you a command. Don't make me add your punishment to his."
This gave Róan pause.
"You can't punish him for what I do."
An entreaty, not a demand. Marik didn't respond, just raised one eyebrow. Róan glanced at Medin. The boy's face read more curiosity than fear, but there was still a tight tension around his mouth that spoke of anxiety. Róan found his strength again.
"I won't let you lay a hand on him. If you want someone to pick on, pick on me. Someone your own size, you bully."
Now Marik and Medin were both goggling at him, but Róan was fired up now, and Marik could see in his eyes that there would be no backing down. The wolfe sighed, took a breath, and before Róan could move, took both the human's hands in his large left one. He released Medin.
"Sit. Here." the boy complied mutely. "Stay."
Then he turned his attention back to Róan.
"Now you..."
As his mate half-marched, half-dragged him down the hall, Róan was filled with the miserable thought that he hadn't been able to protect Medin at all. Marik thrust him into the bedroom and slam-locked the door before Róan had even recovered enough to get to his feet. The quiet was eerie, and he settled by the door to listen. Then, a brief cry, but so short that he almost missed it, then silence again. The silence, he decided, was worse than anything.

He had nearly dozed off in his little listening post by the door when suddenly it opened, and in came Marik, cradling a sleeping Medin in his arms. Róan looked up at him, and the first terrifying thought he had was that the boy was dead. Then the even breathing and relaxed position registered with him. He got to his feet immediately and tried to take him from Marik, but the wolfe turned away and headed for their bed.
"Let him sleep here, with us, for now."
Gently, he set down the sleeping Medin and settled him in the center of the bed, pulling the light blankets over him, and with his head resting on a pillow.
"But isn't he - "
"Let him sleep."
Marik's tone brooked no argument, but Róan didn't care.
"I have to treat him."
Marik looked baffled.
"For what?"
Róan couldn't meet the wolfe's eyes, turning his focus instead to the young varon in their bed. He smoothed some of Medin's hair back from his face, gingerly, as if the boy might break or wake at any moment. Softly, he said,
"His injuries."
Pieces began to come together in Marik's mind again. He tried to meet his mate's gaze, but Róan looked away.
"Róan, he doesn't have any injuries. I haven't hurt him."
Róan just shrugged and stroked the boy's hair. The saline smell was strong, too strong to be just Medin and Marik realized that his mate was crying.
"Oh, Róan." he tried to pull his mate closer, and Róan came weakly. "Little one, please try to understand. Nothing's wrong, nothing happened. Yes, I punished him, but only a little because he is a child. And he is not hurt; look, he's sleeping right now."
"What - what did you do to him?"
Róan shuddered a little when he asked this question.
"I took the strap to him, just three times. I let him go and we talked - well, shouted about everything; he cried because he's emotionally exhausted, nothing more. He wasn't hurt, I'm telling you."
Róan didn't take his gaze off Medin and Marik realized that none of this was getting through to him.
"Please just let me fix him, please. I'll take my punishment and finish his, but let me fix him, please."
All at once, the realization struck Marik that there was really just he and Medin in the room. Róan wasn't there at all.
"Róan. Listen to my voice. I need you to wake up, Róan."
"He's hurt...my brother's hurt..."
"Róan, no one is hurt. Euan is fine. You are fine. Medin is fine, but he's here and he's going to wake up and when he does I need you to be here with us."
Marik had Róan's shoulders in his hands and was trying to force the human to look at him. Finally he did, but his eyes were mostly vacant, disconnected.
"Is it my turn now?"
Marik jumped back as if he'd been burned, released his mate immediately. The terror he felt, the horrible sickness at hearing those words from Róan...so blank and unresistant, so resigned...he turned away.
"No. Your punishment is forgiven."
Róan seemed confused, but didn't speak.
"Get into the bed."
His head snapped up again and there was life back in those eyes, but only for as long as they drifted to Medin to ask the unbearable question of with him here? and then they were empty again. Marik began to walk towards the hall to the private bath. Over his shoulder, he spoke the words he hoped would bring Róan out of his daze.
"Stephen is gone now."
Relief lit Róan's features and he climbed onto the bed immediately, skimming his hands down Medin's sleeping form, checking each hand, each wrist for bruises, then his neck and there were none, then his ankles and legs and without any shyness, he lifted Medin's tunic and Marik left because he couldn't watch anymore.