Little Midnight
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
8,818
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
8,818
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Four
A/N: Holy crap, an update! *Blush* It\'s been a while, hasn\'t it? I didn\'t mean to be so out of touch, but time I would usually dedicate to \'Little Midnight\' went instead to my job, college, OhayoCon, etc. But relax! I haven\'t given up yet, and I don\'t plan to!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The kitchen looked only slightly better than before; Alden had first cleaned up the spills of egg and milk, then cast out the refuse before his stomach heaved. All that remained was the dusting of flour.
A perplexing thought overcame Alden then. If the boy had been making what looked like scrambled eggs, why would he need flour? And why did the kitchen smell of sweet cinnamon just now? What had the boy been up to, anyway? How long had he been awake?!
Alden leaned against the oven to think, then jumped back with a yelp. The oven was still warm! The stove had been shut off, though! The Dom grabbed the oven door’s handle and threw it open in surprise, his jaw dropping upon seeing what was in the oven itself.
Bread. At least, it *smelled* like cinnamon bread. What it *looked* like was a cake pan filled with swollen balls of nearly-cooked dough topped with a cinnamon-sugar glaze. There was no pre-made dough in the house, though…to make that bread dough to the right consistency, it would have taken…
Hours.
Alden slammed his hand on the counter in frustration. How negligent he’d been! He’d only assumed the boy would sleep and left it at that, not once thinking to check to be sure he was still in that damn bed! They’d only been home for eight hours! Whoever had trained that child had trained him poorly! In a fury he spun on his heel and stomped to the stairwell. Halfway there, though, he forced his body to calm itself. The boy would be punished, just as Benji had to be, but no punishment should be dealt in anger. Control was hard to get when one was angry, and more than once was there a time that Alden had rendered a sub unable to move for a day at the least.
He glanced up just in time to see Benji escorting the youth to the top of the stairs, hands held out and a small comforting smile on his face. The boy, when Alden got a good look at him finally, was in far worse condition than Alden had first anticipated. He was a beautiful creature, but grotesquely underfed and excessively disciplined. There were no scars or marks other than the severe bruising on his thigh and backside, but his timid movements were all too revealing. His every move tried desperately to please, but was still tensed enough to give him a chance at dodging a blow.
This was what kept Alden from dashing up the stairs to catch the boy in his arms. He and Benji were equal in their knowledge of caring for slaves, but Benji was more experienced at *being* one, not owning one; offering comfort was something Benji was far better at, especially now. The boy looked to have no experience at all, except for earning and fearing a master’s heavy hand. Damn it.
Benji stopped on the last stair of the staircase, a protective arm around the trembling youth. Both were obviously terrified of Alden’s wrath, but Benji’s only betrayal of his discomfort was in his eyes. The boy was shaking like a leaf, to say the least, but he bravely tried to put on a confident face.
Alden was almost tempted to laugh, but schooled himself and instead extended a hand, palm up, to the youth. “Give me your hand, child.”
The boy hesitated at first, whimpering and looking to Benji for guidance. Benji wore a solemn little frown, but tenderly cupped his hand around the child’s and guided it away from his body. “Alden gave you an order, Orchid. I know it hurts.”
“Orchid?” the blonde cocked a curious eyebrow at the mention of the name, glancing into Orchid’s face. Yes, he could see why such a name was chosen for him. He was absolutely beautiful, pale like the rare Midnight Orchid that now only grew in the gardens of the aristocracy. The war had made it near to impossible for real flowers to grow in natural habitats, which was most often why slaves were named for the near-to-extinct flora.
“A-Alden?” Benji’s voice fluttered with timidity, “Alden, w-was there anything else I could do for you?”
Alden gave no indication of hearing Benji, focusing instead on the wound in question. It was bad, but not nearly so bad as Alden had feared it to be. It was more or less a very bad sunburn, with faint traces of blisters that could be healed with rest and ointment. “It isn’t so bad,” he said, but not unkindly. “Come with me and I’ll see to these burns, Orchid. Benji, you know what I require from you.”
Benji bowed his head in compliance and swallowed hard. He knew he would be punished, and he knew he deserved it, but he wasn’t crazy enough to *want* Alden to punish him! A startled yip from Orchid made him turn and coax a sad little smile to his lips, but he forbade himself any physical contact for now. “It is not your place to question your superiors, Orchid. Go on, or else your hand will become infected.”
“Come,” Alden ordered, giving the slave’s arm a tug toward the newly-cleaned kitchen. “The first-aid kit has some burn ointment in it, and a dressing we can wrap around it. When you are seen to, we will discuss last night and your final fate in this house.”
Into the kitchen they went, Orchid looking paler by the second as he looked around before finally glancing to the oven. The flour clung to the many surfaces of the kitchen as witness to his mistake, driving home the point that he was a failure. The youth chanced a glance to the oven and paled drastically, his stomach plummeting through the floor. Had Master found…
“I am not so much of a cook, but I know that whatever is in there is not yet done baking. Now kneel before me and put your hand in my lap, palm facing up.” Alden sat at the small table with an earthenware jar in his hand, an open medicine chest resting on the tabletop. Orchid gulped and did as he’d been instructed, bowing his head submissively and in a vain hope to try and hide his misery. Alden smiled softly at the attempt, and forced himself to go about treatment gently. “While you are here, Orchid, explain to me why it was you did not sleep when I put you in bed last night. You are permitted to speak, child.”
Orchid felt a slight flare of revulsion at being addressed as a child, but he held it in check and returned to his misery. “I…With all due respect, Sir, I was not instructed to sleep. I was instructed to consider a means of thanking you and your…your…”
Alden paused, catching the confusion in Orchid’s voice. “Benji is my companion, Orchid. But that is hardly an important detail; continue.”
Starting again was a little difficult, but it became a little easier as the words flowed. “Yes, Sir. I had hoped to please you and make you breakfast, Sir. My instructors had trained me once in making meals, but the meals I was instructed to make did not cover any of the foodstuffs in your house. I was determined to at least make the effort, to prove I was not lazy, Sir. I ended up making cinnamon buns, and was attempting Denver omelets when I foolishly woke you…”
“You see now the foolishness of your actions?” Alden demanded, tenderly pressing a gauze pad to the burns before unraveling a bandage roll. “Foolish slaves are dead slaves, for foolishness leads to harm. Harming a slave is harming a Master’s property, and Masters do not take kindly to injured slaves. You would have been lucky if you had been beaten and sold! I have known men and women to *kill* slaves for less than the stunts you pulled today! And had you been returned to the markets, the auctioneers would show no mercy!”
The horror stories Alden relayed sadly were not exaggerated, and Orchid knew that. He had been witness to the executions of slaves for things like scars and ailments that would be treated easily if they’d only been citizens. Words couldn’t possibly describe Orchid’s sense of failure and shame, but the free-flowing tears were testimony to his grief. “I am a disgrace…” he whispered, bowing his head lower. “I am of better service in death…”
Alden snorted in contempt. Slave or not, this boy was too young to die! “Do you really think that of yourself?” he ordered, grasping Orchid’s chin and forcing him to look up. “It is no wonder you were being sold in an underground market! What self-respecting auctioneer would sell such an ungrateful, lazy lump like you?! What could Benji possibly have seen in you to possess him to bring you here?!”
The contempt in Alden’s words and tone acted as a catalyst in Orchid’s soul, igniting not self-contempt but indignation. “Whatever it was, Sir, I would wager he won’t see it again. I will leave here and never return if you so will it, Sir.”
Alden remained externally stoic, but deep in his heart he laughed with joy. “You will do no such thing,” he coldly snapped, seizing Orchid’s long hair in his fist and drawing him dangerously close. The boy was a beauty, even at the height of emotion, and right now the conflicting anger and fear in his soul reflected magnificently in his sable black eyes. A blood-chilling smirk played across the Dom’s lips then, sending a thrill down Orchid’s spine unconsciously. “To leave now would suit *your* pleasures, when any slave knows it is their only life to serve their masters. I claim you now, Orchid, and it is your fault this is happening. You wanted a Master to serve? Well now you have two. That will mean twice the pleasing, twice the work, and twice the punishment when you mess up. Prepare to reap what you sow, little Orchid, for there is no turning back now.”
~~~~~~
Bum bum BUMMM! Oh crap, what\'s gonna happen now?! ^-^
[Damn I\'m such a bitch >:)]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The kitchen looked only slightly better than before; Alden had first cleaned up the spills of egg and milk, then cast out the refuse before his stomach heaved. All that remained was the dusting of flour.
A perplexing thought overcame Alden then. If the boy had been making what looked like scrambled eggs, why would he need flour? And why did the kitchen smell of sweet cinnamon just now? What had the boy been up to, anyway? How long had he been awake?!
Alden leaned against the oven to think, then jumped back with a yelp. The oven was still warm! The stove had been shut off, though! The Dom grabbed the oven door’s handle and threw it open in surprise, his jaw dropping upon seeing what was in the oven itself.
Bread. At least, it *smelled* like cinnamon bread. What it *looked* like was a cake pan filled with swollen balls of nearly-cooked dough topped with a cinnamon-sugar glaze. There was no pre-made dough in the house, though…to make that bread dough to the right consistency, it would have taken…
Hours.
Alden slammed his hand on the counter in frustration. How negligent he’d been! He’d only assumed the boy would sleep and left it at that, not once thinking to check to be sure he was still in that damn bed! They’d only been home for eight hours! Whoever had trained that child had trained him poorly! In a fury he spun on his heel and stomped to the stairwell. Halfway there, though, he forced his body to calm itself. The boy would be punished, just as Benji had to be, but no punishment should be dealt in anger. Control was hard to get when one was angry, and more than once was there a time that Alden had rendered a sub unable to move for a day at the least.
He glanced up just in time to see Benji escorting the youth to the top of the stairs, hands held out and a small comforting smile on his face. The boy, when Alden got a good look at him finally, was in far worse condition than Alden had first anticipated. He was a beautiful creature, but grotesquely underfed and excessively disciplined. There were no scars or marks other than the severe bruising on his thigh and backside, but his timid movements were all too revealing. His every move tried desperately to please, but was still tensed enough to give him a chance at dodging a blow.
This was what kept Alden from dashing up the stairs to catch the boy in his arms. He and Benji were equal in their knowledge of caring for slaves, but Benji was more experienced at *being* one, not owning one; offering comfort was something Benji was far better at, especially now. The boy looked to have no experience at all, except for earning and fearing a master’s heavy hand. Damn it.
Benji stopped on the last stair of the staircase, a protective arm around the trembling youth. Both were obviously terrified of Alden’s wrath, but Benji’s only betrayal of his discomfort was in his eyes. The boy was shaking like a leaf, to say the least, but he bravely tried to put on a confident face.
Alden was almost tempted to laugh, but schooled himself and instead extended a hand, palm up, to the youth. “Give me your hand, child.”
The boy hesitated at first, whimpering and looking to Benji for guidance. Benji wore a solemn little frown, but tenderly cupped his hand around the child’s and guided it away from his body. “Alden gave you an order, Orchid. I know it hurts.”
“Orchid?” the blonde cocked a curious eyebrow at the mention of the name, glancing into Orchid’s face. Yes, he could see why such a name was chosen for him. He was absolutely beautiful, pale like the rare Midnight Orchid that now only grew in the gardens of the aristocracy. The war had made it near to impossible for real flowers to grow in natural habitats, which was most often why slaves were named for the near-to-extinct flora.
“A-Alden?” Benji’s voice fluttered with timidity, “Alden, w-was there anything else I could do for you?”
Alden gave no indication of hearing Benji, focusing instead on the wound in question. It was bad, but not nearly so bad as Alden had feared it to be. It was more or less a very bad sunburn, with faint traces of blisters that could be healed with rest and ointment. “It isn’t so bad,” he said, but not unkindly. “Come with me and I’ll see to these burns, Orchid. Benji, you know what I require from you.”
Benji bowed his head in compliance and swallowed hard. He knew he would be punished, and he knew he deserved it, but he wasn’t crazy enough to *want* Alden to punish him! A startled yip from Orchid made him turn and coax a sad little smile to his lips, but he forbade himself any physical contact for now. “It is not your place to question your superiors, Orchid. Go on, or else your hand will become infected.”
“Come,” Alden ordered, giving the slave’s arm a tug toward the newly-cleaned kitchen. “The first-aid kit has some burn ointment in it, and a dressing we can wrap around it. When you are seen to, we will discuss last night and your final fate in this house.”
Into the kitchen they went, Orchid looking paler by the second as he looked around before finally glancing to the oven. The flour clung to the many surfaces of the kitchen as witness to his mistake, driving home the point that he was a failure. The youth chanced a glance to the oven and paled drastically, his stomach plummeting through the floor. Had Master found…
“I am not so much of a cook, but I know that whatever is in there is not yet done baking. Now kneel before me and put your hand in my lap, palm facing up.” Alden sat at the small table with an earthenware jar in his hand, an open medicine chest resting on the tabletop. Orchid gulped and did as he’d been instructed, bowing his head submissively and in a vain hope to try and hide his misery. Alden smiled softly at the attempt, and forced himself to go about treatment gently. “While you are here, Orchid, explain to me why it was you did not sleep when I put you in bed last night. You are permitted to speak, child.”
Orchid felt a slight flare of revulsion at being addressed as a child, but he held it in check and returned to his misery. “I…With all due respect, Sir, I was not instructed to sleep. I was instructed to consider a means of thanking you and your…your…”
Alden paused, catching the confusion in Orchid’s voice. “Benji is my companion, Orchid. But that is hardly an important detail; continue.”
Starting again was a little difficult, but it became a little easier as the words flowed. “Yes, Sir. I had hoped to please you and make you breakfast, Sir. My instructors had trained me once in making meals, but the meals I was instructed to make did not cover any of the foodstuffs in your house. I was determined to at least make the effort, to prove I was not lazy, Sir. I ended up making cinnamon buns, and was attempting Denver omelets when I foolishly woke you…”
“You see now the foolishness of your actions?” Alden demanded, tenderly pressing a gauze pad to the burns before unraveling a bandage roll. “Foolish slaves are dead slaves, for foolishness leads to harm. Harming a slave is harming a Master’s property, and Masters do not take kindly to injured slaves. You would have been lucky if you had been beaten and sold! I have known men and women to *kill* slaves for less than the stunts you pulled today! And had you been returned to the markets, the auctioneers would show no mercy!”
The horror stories Alden relayed sadly were not exaggerated, and Orchid knew that. He had been witness to the executions of slaves for things like scars and ailments that would be treated easily if they’d only been citizens. Words couldn’t possibly describe Orchid’s sense of failure and shame, but the free-flowing tears were testimony to his grief. “I am a disgrace…” he whispered, bowing his head lower. “I am of better service in death…”
Alden snorted in contempt. Slave or not, this boy was too young to die! “Do you really think that of yourself?” he ordered, grasping Orchid’s chin and forcing him to look up. “It is no wonder you were being sold in an underground market! What self-respecting auctioneer would sell such an ungrateful, lazy lump like you?! What could Benji possibly have seen in you to possess him to bring you here?!”
The contempt in Alden’s words and tone acted as a catalyst in Orchid’s soul, igniting not self-contempt but indignation. “Whatever it was, Sir, I would wager he won’t see it again. I will leave here and never return if you so will it, Sir.”
Alden remained externally stoic, but deep in his heart he laughed with joy. “You will do no such thing,” he coldly snapped, seizing Orchid’s long hair in his fist and drawing him dangerously close. The boy was a beauty, even at the height of emotion, and right now the conflicting anger and fear in his soul reflected magnificently in his sable black eyes. A blood-chilling smirk played across the Dom’s lips then, sending a thrill down Orchid’s spine unconsciously. “To leave now would suit *your* pleasures, when any slave knows it is their only life to serve their masters. I claim you now, Orchid, and it is your fault this is happening. You wanted a Master to serve? Well now you have two. That will mean twice the pleasing, twice the work, and twice the punishment when you mess up. Prepare to reap what you sow, little Orchid, for there is no turning back now.”
~~~~~~
Bum bum BUMMM! Oh crap, what\'s gonna happen now?! ^-^
[Damn I\'m such a bitch >:)]