Prince Charming
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
6,325
Reviews:
97
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0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
6,325
Reviews:
97
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 Five
Note: Alright! Chapter five…and almost summer!!! If I get enough good reviews…I may post the update Monday! (Cause reviews make me happy and anxious to post more. Rawr.) ANYway…I may post Monday anyway…but still, all you people who give me feedback make me so happy.
Regardless, as soon as summer starts up, I DO plan to have a twice a week update schedule. What days I’ll post on I haven’t decided but…that remains to be seen I suppose. On with the chap! ^^
Chapter Five
The town emanated life: people bustling, carts rolling, and shopkeepers advertising their goods at the top of their lungs over the raucous. Instantly upon entering, Teige couldn’t keep his eyes still, his attention darting from one fascination to the next, and for a moment, he could almost forget his plight. Drake, used to the experience, wasn’t swayed quite so easily, his expression blank as ever as he skillfully weaved their way through the crowds on horseback.
Pulling up beside a run-down looking building, he tied the beast up beside a water trough and unloaded several packs to his back before bravely striding directly into the midst of the stemming crowds. Repeatedly, Teige lost sight of the large man, finding it exceedingly difficult to keep his focus, and he briefly wondered if Drake had escaped his sights purposefully, but in the end decided against it. In fact, even as he got more used to keeping track of the man, he found that Drake paid little to no attention to him whatsoever. The first time he even glanced his way was as they stepped up to the stall of a fabric trader; even that look lasted barely a second. After it, he returned his attention to the merchant.
Frustrated, Teige almost looked away again when a new occurrence caught his attention. Foreign words, like something he’d expect to hear from the mouth of a sultan or raja, rolled off the redhead\'s tongue with the ease of a fluent speaker, and his mind filled instantly with the thoughts of a desert, hot sands, colored veils and-
“Teige.”
Blinking rapidly, his gaze snapped up to find russet brown eyes studying him carefully. “Yes?”
“The man wants to know how much you want for the dress.”
“I…uhh…can’t you sell it to him? I don’t really have…any idea how-…” Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, Drake turned back to the merchant. Speaking again in the foreign tongue, he finished the deal up quickly, and, in under a minute, traded the large bundle of navy satin and lace over for a small brown pouch. Wordlessly, he handed over the pay, turning away just as silently the next instant. After briefly examining the collection of gold coins, Teige quickly strung the top closed and scrambled to catch up with the other.
“Drake…Drake, wait!” The crowds again gave him trouble, but this time he felt sure the other was making an effort to escape him. As before, the man paid him absolutely no mind until they arrived back at the horse, at which time he turned on the smaller man with a highly distasteful scowl.
“Leave.”
“No!” Startled by this abrupt denial, Drake stared for a moment, then snorted in dismissal, turning to his horse and loading what remained of what he took to market, mostly all traded into gold now.
“I kept my end of the deal.”
“I never agreed to that deal! You can’t just pick me up then dump me off in the middle of this zoo! I have no idea where the hell I am-“
“Carthak.”
“I’m broke-”
“You have gold.”
“And I have no way to make my way in the world without-“
“Not my problem.”
“I owe you my life! Take me with you! I’ll do anything…carry luggage-“
“I have a horse.”
“Make food-“
“Can you cook?”
“I could learn…” In one leap Davinoff mounted the horse, and Teige burst. “Give me a chance goddammit! I can learn to cook! And clean, and fight! Why won’t you even give me the chance to learn? You could teach me! I know you could! I could help you if you just let me! I’ll be your squire, your slave, your bitch, your bodyguard…”
Drake quirked an eyebrow, hands still on the reins, but eyes traveling in consideration over the pink, flushed figure standing before him. With wild raven hair in a tumble, cheeks rosy from frustration, and wide blue eyes pleading in desperation, Teige looked…edible. Quickly, Drake dismissed the thought, and yet, some part of him refused to withdraw once again into his solitary, voiceless lifestyle. Then, the thought of Teige as a bodyguard, attempting to protect his life, came unbidden to his mind, and he had to turn away hastily so as not to betray the flicker of expression that somehow found its way onto his features. Once suitably under control again, he spoke gruffly, sure not to let on any of his previous thoughts come through in his tone.
“Three days.” Teige’s heart leapt, and his eyes shot up with a newfound hope. “If you drag me behind…” He turned his head to face the other, finding Teige’s gaze locked on him. “…don’t think I’ll hesitate to leave you, wherever we are, with nothing. Understand?” Immediately, the younger man nodded, and Drake sighed, offering a hand. When Teige’s far smaller grip clasped his trustingly, he found himself momentarily distracted, staring at the delicately formed fingers in his grasp, entranced for a moment, before cursing himself again and lifting the figure onto the horse. “This will never work…”
“You’re too pessimistic…”
“It’s saved me a few heartaches.”
Because of their city’s population, Carthak inns, or any other form or resting quarters for that matter, almost reliably ran amuck with thieves and a variety of other unpleasant midnight scoundrels. Therefore, to avoid the extra unwanted problems, Drake always made the trip, when in the area, to the far smaller, nearby town of Haito, an almost village-like refuge rarely bothered by anything more dangerous than the occasional passing bard or weary traveler.
When they arrived, dusk had already fallen, but it took little time to pay for a room, and even after they had unpacked suitably for the night, Teige could still see perfectly well outside through their inn room window. If not for Drake’s interruption, he might have found himself staring the night away just to watch as darkness fell upon the sleepy town.
“We should eat.” Looking up, he blinked several times, as if the thought of food had never occurred to him though he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in over twenty-four hours. Earlier that day he’d eaten a small portion of traveling bread offered by Davinoff, but even that he hadn’t eaten much of. When he didn’t respond immediately, Drake only frowned slightly and moved toward the door. “You coming?”
“Oh.” As if only just then comprehending the offer completely, he sat up rather quickly and put other thoughts from his mind. “Yes…right…food. I’m coming.”
Though not thoroughly convinced, Drake eventually shrugged and left the room, leaving Teige to follow as they made it down the stairs. The inn itself had a small bar type arrangement on the bottom floor, and with a short negotiation and a quick exchange of coins, they moved to sit in an empty booth, Drake silent as always and Teige struggling to control his suddenly nauseous reaction to the thought of food.
As he sat there, he tried not to think about the smells around them, and told himself that it was likely just an adverse reaction after not having eaten in so long: once he got down a few mouthfuls, the feeling would go away. When a man finally came up with two bowls of soup and biscuits however, he thought his stomach might flop then and there on the spot. Drake seemed to notice nothing, instantly starting in on his without hesitance, but even the thought of one spoonful made Teige’s insides threaten to spill.
Slowly, he picked the spoon beside him, praying that he didn’t look as sickly as he felt and trying to will himself into bringing at least something to his mouth. Drake’s voice startled him so much, he both jumped and dropped the spoon with a clatter when it came.
“Are you going to eat that?”
“W-wha….oh.” He followed the direction of Drake’s gaze to the roll beside his bowl and swallowed nervously. “N-no…you umm…you can have it.”
“I don’t want it. I was just asking. You look…paler than usual.”
“Oh…right…sorry…I’ll…eat it…” To prove his point, almost more to himself than Drake, he snatched the biscuit and brought it to his lips, but it didn’t get much farther than that. When the other quirked an eyebrow at his odd behavior, he gave a nervous smile and brought about half an inch into his mouth, nibbling off the very tip and forcing himself not to grimace.
The bread tasted gritty, dry, and unpleasant as it stuck to his tongue, and even after he quickly swallowed, making a strong effort not to toss it up again, the taste never left his mouth. Frustrated, and suddenly angry for some reason he couldn’t quite pick out, he took another, larger bite out of spite for his foolish fear, and focused on ignoring his body’s revulsion to the foreign food. When was the last time he ate like this? Before Cyprien’s death. What had Cyprien fed him last? He frowned, trying to remember, but his head hurt with the effort, and in addition to his strongly objectionable stomach, he couldn’t keep his thoughts on track.
Eventually, he managed to down the entire roll, but even thinking about the soup nearly made that first effort null and void, so after a single spoonful, he gave up on dinner. “I’m going back up to the room.”
Frowning, Davinoff set his spoon down and eyed the rising figure with mild suspicion. “That’s all you’re eating?
“I’ll eat more later…I just don’t feel up to it right now.”
“I already paid for this.” Drake pointed out, but Teige had already withdrawn to the stairs, moving up to their rooms and out of earshot. Sighing, the older man eyed the abandoned bowl, then grumbled and went to work on finishing his own.
In his room, already-paid-for soup was the last thing from Teige’s mind as he watched the night darken into full bloom across the small village town below. Strangely enough, despite his general fatigue throughout the day, he now felt oddly enlivened, his eyes not heavy, but wide, and his heart and body ready for stealth, movement, and the thrill of the hunt. Absently, he ran his tongue over the pair of dull, human canines in the front of his mouth, wondering briefly what it must have felt like for Cyprien: to sprout lethal, gleaming fangs and dig deep into the hot, rich flesh of-
“You’re still awake?”
Teige jumped, his fingertips resting by habit on two tiny, barely visible pinpricks on his neck as his eyes turned to find Drake watching him from the doorway. Hastily, he dropped his hand, a mild flush rising to his cheeks as he turned his gaze back out the window. Not knowing quite what to say, he opted for silence, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing in his neck and the brief, faint flicker of hunger that he hadn’t felt for even the barest instant when eyeing the soup.
“You should sleep. If you were feeling sick earlier, I don’t want you coming down with something.” Surprised at the larger man’s concern, if only for such a mild thing, Teige turned his gaze back, but Drake had already begun the process of undressing, not bothering to look at him as he added, “If I get sick because of you…you can count on dying an early death.”
Glum, the younger man spun back to the window, plopping his chin on his on his crossed arms and scowling at the innocent night for lack of a better target. “I’m not tired.”
“We leave early.”
“I don’t care.”
“Fine by me.”
Teige risked a single glance backward, not really moving but tilting his head enough to get a one-eye glimpse of the man behind him. Immediately, he regretted it. Even with only his back visible, a shirtless Davinoff with his hands at the belt buckle gave plenty enough of a view to bring unmistakable color to the smaller man’s otherwise pallid cheeks. Rust red hair hung thick and loose almost six inches past full broad shoulders, not even half-way covering a seemingly endless view of tan, caramel brown skin that only the rough cotton edge of tattered leggings ended. When the clink of metal on wood signaled the belts decent to the floor, Teige instantly made to turn away, but Drake’s voice caught him halfway around.
“I assure you, you will find nothing new on me that you haven’t seen on naked men before. It’s not necessary to make an inspection.”
Cheeks ablaze with shame, Teige snapped up to a full sitting position, mouth opening, then closing again before he could come up with any logical excuse. “I-…that’s not what I…”
“Get in bed.” Teige turned his gaze to the window as he heard Drake’s pants drop to the floor and the shuffle of sheets as the larger man entered his own cot. “I can’t teach anything to a half-asleep queer.”
“Being raped by a vampire for four years doesn’t mean I bed men for pleasure…” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than Davinoff, but he felt sure he heard a muffled snort of disbelief from under the covers across the room. Perhaps for good reason.
~
Pale moonlight glimmered across already silvern features as dark ebony eyes watched from a distance, long silver strands whipping lightly about the otherwise stony features like a weightless veil.
“He thinks you held him for four years?” The voice came leaden with scorn and disbelief, scoffing the facts as it came up from behind the other. For the first time in hours, the stature-like silhouette moved, turning only eyes and head the barest inch to view the approaching figure.
“I gave him no real sense of time. He gazed on his reflection and no longer saw the child I took into my keeping…he has reason for his assumptions.”
A dismissive snort answered the comment as a dark-haired man, similar in build to his companion, came up beside him. Gracefully dropping to a half-crouch, two fingers pressing to the rooftop below him to steady his balance, the second man followed the direction of the other’s eyes to a petite figure, currently staring almost wistfully out the window of the adjacent building. After a moment, he shook his head.
“You’re a fool, Cyprien…the human’s folly has rubbed off on you. Barely a year with him and yet…” His eyes traveled over his companion, the gaze a dark mixture of black, brown, and burgundy, much like his hair. “You’ve fallen for him.”
Twin ebony snapped up instantly at the comment, Cyprien’s gaze radiating danger as he issued a low growl of warning. “You lie.” He hissed, baring the smallest flash of fangs along his lower lip and eyes glowing reddish for one brief instant before they steadied.
“Then why did you release him!” The other shouted, more an accusation than a question. “Don’t expect me to believe that foolish ape bested you? Even among the immortals you’re a renowned fighter…and yet you let the mortal hunter walk. You surrender, so willingly-“
“I did not surrender!” Cyprien’s voice far overpowered the other’s, and for a moment, an eerie silence took over. When he spoke again, it came out barely above a whisper, heated and fierce with intent. “I chose to let the boy go, Raspel, for reasons that of no significance to you, and I would suggest…that you do me the honor of leaving my private business as such. Private.” At that point, his gaze turned back to the window, now closed, and his last words came out distant, almost inaudible. “Perhaps I simply grew tired of the boy…”
After a moment, still eying his companion doubtfully, Raspel nodded slowly. “Perhaps…” He agreed, quiet but unconvinced. “…or…” His face turned in the opposite direction to view the dark night and shadowed moon behind them, his own final comment catching on the wind, unheard by anyone but himself. “Perhaps your heart finally softened to his pleas…”
Review Replies
Falcon Bertille: Yay! New chapter! Poor Drake -- it just keeps getting worse and worse for him, doesn\'t it? The way you write him, I can really sense all these emotions bubbling beneath the surface, fighting to burst out. At the end of the chapter, when he nearly yelled at his horse, I thought that was perfect. It really showed how far he\'d been pushed. Also, it was really funny. It\'s interesting that he can\'t quite let go of the idea of Teige being female, still addressing him as \"Woman\". Still can\'t quite come to terms with any attraction he might feel towards a male. I have a feeling Teige will help him with that one, although not before causing him to unravel like a cheap sweater. Oh yes, I definitely anticipate much tasty angst to come!
My favorite line from this part: \"...about as useful as soggy firewood.\" LOL! I just love Teige\'s dry wit. In some ways, he comes across as stronger than Drake. Drake may have a lot of muscles, but even now, Teige has a much more honest sense of himself.
Can\'t wait for more!
Love,
Falcon
^^ Up to chapter nine…and he still hasn’t stopped calling him ‘woman’. I have a feeling by this point…that it probably won’t go away…ever. Even after he comes to terms with the attraction (which will also likely take a frustratingly long amount of time…xP). And yes, much angst…bwhahaha. xD
Yay! Phew…I’m glad you said that because, for me, the traditional uke with nothing but a tight ass and high DID (damsel in distress) complex, can get boring fast. Considering that Teige started off in a frilly dress waiting in a tower for his prince charming…I was kinda worried that no one would ever see him for much more than that, but I’m glad at least you do. ^^ Thank you for the lovely reviews as always!
Corenn: This mercenarary is... is... A NON GENTLMAN ! (I have sook the english word for it but haven\'t found it O_o) >__<
Don\'t give up on the bishie... Does this mean ?... *______* *wait and hope*
Anyway... I love this story !
And to finish this wonderful review... A HUG TO THE AUTHOR ! *jump on the susnamed author and hug her* Bwahahahahahaha
xD No, Drake is most certainly not a gentleman…and certainly not toward people who disturb his delicate sense of balance. (Which I’m afraid will be happening quite a lot in chapters to come…) Yes, it does mean…what do you think of Cyprien’s great return? :gonk: It actually made me all happy inside when you first regretted the loss of him…cause when I first posted this I was already planning on bringing him in later. Our dear Cyprien will actually, in all likelihood, have a very important role in thickening the plot later on…
xDD Whoot! I get a hug….*considers* I think…that this is the first time I’ve gotten a hug from my reviewers……oh no, there was one other in my last story, but she’s gone now. v_v Thank you anyways! XD ^^ The reviews are such wonderful encouragement.
MakaiKitty: Well, I\'m betting that there\'s something that he can do to change Drake\'s mind *LOL* Great chapter, can\'t wait to read more!
xD Oh yes, I’m sure there are a LOT of ‘somethings’ that he could do to change his mind…but we’ll have to wait for that. Thanks for reviewing! ^^
Momo_Mochi: I really like it! How long was Teige stuck in the tower? Did he have family? Either I wasn\'t paying attention or I would really really like to know (meaning: KEEP WRITING !!!! please? )
Thanks,
Thanks! I did actually mention those things…but I don’t mind reiterating. Teige THOUGHT he was stuck in the tower for about four years because he knew Cyprien had captured him at age seventeen, and he thought he looked at least that many years older. He’d actually been captured for only about a year. He doesn’t have a family that he knows of…he grew up as an orphan, pushed aside by the rest of society in his younger years mostly because of his size.
Thank you so much for reviewing! ^^
Regardless, as soon as summer starts up, I DO plan to have a twice a week update schedule. What days I’ll post on I haven’t decided but…that remains to be seen I suppose. On with the chap! ^^
The town emanated life: people bustling, carts rolling, and shopkeepers advertising their goods at the top of their lungs over the raucous. Instantly upon entering, Teige couldn’t keep his eyes still, his attention darting from one fascination to the next, and for a moment, he could almost forget his plight. Drake, used to the experience, wasn’t swayed quite so easily, his expression blank as ever as he skillfully weaved their way through the crowds on horseback.
Pulling up beside a run-down looking building, he tied the beast up beside a water trough and unloaded several packs to his back before bravely striding directly into the midst of the stemming crowds. Repeatedly, Teige lost sight of the large man, finding it exceedingly difficult to keep his focus, and he briefly wondered if Drake had escaped his sights purposefully, but in the end decided against it. In fact, even as he got more used to keeping track of the man, he found that Drake paid little to no attention to him whatsoever. The first time he even glanced his way was as they stepped up to the stall of a fabric trader; even that look lasted barely a second. After it, he returned his attention to the merchant.
Frustrated, Teige almost looked away again when a new occurrence caught his attention. Foreign words, like something he’d expect to hear from the mouth of a sultan or raja, rolled off the redhead\'s tongue with the ease of a fluent speaker, and his mind filled instantly with the thoughts of a desert, hot sands, colored veils and-
“Teige.”
Blinking rapidly, his gaze snapped up to find russet brown eyes studying him carefully. “Yes?”
“The man wants to know how much you want for the dress.”
“I…uhh…can’t you sell it to him? I don’t really have…any idea how-…” Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, Drake turned back to the merchant. Speaking again in the foreign tongue, he finished the deal up quickly, and, in under a minute, traded the large bundle of navy satin and lace over for a small brown pouch. Wordlessly, he handed over the pay, turning away just as silently the next instant. After briefly examining the collection of gold coins, Teige quickly strung the top closed and scrambled to catch up with the other.
“Drake…Drake, wait!” The crowds again gave him trouble, but this time he felt sure the other was making an effort to escape him. As before, the man paid him absolutely no mind until they arrived back at the horse, at which time he turned on the smaller man with a highly distasteful scowl.
“Leave.”
“No!” Startled by this abrupt denial, Drake stared for a moment, then snorted in dismissal, turning to his horse and loading what remained of what he took to market, mostly all traded into gold now.
“I kept my end of the deal.”
“I never agreed to that deal! You can’t just pick me up then dump me off in the middle of this zoo! I have no idea where the hell I am-“
“Carthak.”
“I’m broke-”
“You have gold.”
“And I have no way to make my way in the world without-“
“Not my problem.”
“I owe you my life! Take me with you! I’ll do anything…carry luggage-“
“I have a horse.”
“Make food-“
“Can you cook?”
“I could learn…” In one leap Davinoff mounted the horse, and Teige burst. “Give me a chance goddammit! I can learn to cook! And clean, and fight! Why won’t you even give me the chance to learn? You could teach me! I know you could! I could help you if you just let me! I’ll be your squire, your slave, your bitch, your bodyguard…”
Drake quirked an eyebrow, hands still on the reins, but eyes traveling in consideration over the pink, flushed figure standing before him. With wild raven hair in a tumble, cheeks rosy from frustration, and wide blue eyes pleading in desperation, Teige looked…edible. Quickly, Drake dismissed the thought, and yet, some part of him refused to withdraw once again into his solitary, voiceless lifestyle. Then, the thought of Teige as a bodyguard, attempting to protect his life, came unbidden to his mind, and he had to turn away hastily so as not to betray the flicker of expression that somehow found its way onto his features. Once suitably under control again, he spoke gruffly, sure not to let on any of his previous thoughts come through in his tone.
“Three days.” Teige’s heart leapt, and his eyes shot up with a newfound hope. “If you drag me behind…” He turned his head to face the other, finding Teige’s gaze locked on him. “…don’t think I’ll hesitate to leave you, wherever we are, with nothing. Understand?” Immediately, the younger man nodded, and Drake sighed, offering a hand. When Teige’s far smaller grip clasped his trustingly, he found himself momentarily distracted, staring at the delicately formed fingers in his grasp, entranced for a moment, before cursing himself again and lifting the figure onto the horse. “This will never work…”
“You’re too pessimistic…”
“It’s saved me a few heartaches.”
Because of their city’s population, Carthak inns, or any other form or resting quarters for that matter, almost reliably ran amuck with thieves and a variety of other unpleasant midnight scoundrels. Therefore, to avoid the extra unwanted problems, Drake always made the trip, when in the area, to the far smaller, nearby town of Haito, an almost village-like refuge rarely bothered by anything more dangerous than the occasional passing bard or weary traveler.
When they arrived, dusk had already fallen, but it took little time to pay for a room, and even after they had unpacked suitably for the night, Teige could still see perfectly well outside through their inn room window. If not for Drake’s interruption, he might have found himself staring the night away just to watch as darkness fell upon the sleepy town.
“We should eat.” Looking up, he blinked several times, as if the thought of food had never occurred to him though he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in over twenty-four hours. Earlier that day he’d eaten a small portion of traveling bread offered by Davinoff, but even that he hadn’t eaten much of. When he didn’t respond immediately, Drake only frowned slightly and moved toward the door. “You coming?”
“Oh.” As if only just then comprehending the offer completely, he sat up rather quickly and put other thoughts from his mind. “Yes…right…food. I’m coming.”
Though not thoroughly convinced, Drake eventually shrugged and left the room, leaving Teige to follow as they made it down the stairs. The inn itself had a small bar type arrangement on the bottom floor, and with a short negotiation and a quick exchange of coins, they moved to sit in an empty booth, Drake silent as always and Teige struggling to control his suddenly nauseous reaction to the thought of food.
As he sat there, he tried not to think about the smells around them, and told himself that it was likely just an adverse reaction after not having eaten in so long: once he got down a few mouthfuls, the feeling would go away. When a man finally came up with two bowls of soup and biscuits however, he thought his stomach might flop then and there on the spot. Drake seemed to notice nothing, instantly starting in on his without hesitance, but even the thought of one spoonful made Teige’s insides threaten to spill.
Slowly, he picked the spoon beside him, praying that he didn’t look as sickly as he felt and trying to will himself into bringing at least something to his mouth. Drake’s voice startled him so much, he both jumped and dropped the spoon with a clatter when it came.
“Are you going to eat that?”
“W-wha….oh.” He followed the direction of Drake’s gaze to the roll beside his bowl and swallowed nervously. “N-no…you umm…you can have it.”
“I don’t want it. I was just asking. You look…paler than usual.”
“Oh…right…sorry…I’ll…eat it…” To prove his point, almost more to himself than Drake, he snatched the biscuit and brought it to his lips, but it didn’t get much farther than that. When the other quirked an eyebrow at his odd behavior, he gave a nervous smile and brought about half an inch into his mouth, nibbling off the very tip and forcing himself not to grimace.
The bread tasted gritty, dry, and unpleasant as it stuck to his tongue, and even after he quickly swallowed, making a strong effort not to toss it up again, the taste never left his mouth. Frustrated, and suddenly angry for some reason he couldn’t quite pick out, he took another, larger bite out of spite for his foolish fear, and focused on ignoring his body’s revulsion to the foreign food. When was the last time he ate like this? Before Cyprien’s death. What had Cyprien fed him last? He frowned, trying to remember, but his head hurt with the effort, and in addition to his strongly objectionable stomach, he couldn’t keep his thoughts on track.
Eventually, he managed to down the entire roll, but even thinking about the soup nearly made that first effort null and void, so after a single spoonful, he gave up on dinner. “I’m going back up to the room.”
Frowning, Davinoff set his spoon down and eyed the rising figure with mild suspicion. “That’s all you’re eating?
“I’ll eat more later…I just don’t feel up to it right now.”
“I already paid for this.” Drake pointed out, but Teige had already withdrawn to the stairs, moving up to their rooms and out of earshot. Sighing, the older man eyed the abandoned bowl, then grumbled and went to work on finishing his own.
In his room, already-paid-for soup was the last thing from Teige’s mind as he watched the night darken into full bloom across the small village town below. Strangely enough, despite his general fatigue throughout the day, he now felt oddly enlivened, his eyes not heavy, but wide, and his heart and body ready for stealth, movement, and the thrill of the hunt. Absently, he ran his tongue over the pair of dull, human canines in the front of his mouth, wondering briefly what it must have felt like for Cyprien: to sprout lethal, gleaming fangs and dig deep into the hot, rich flesh of-
“You’re still awake?”
Teige jumped, his fingertips resting by habit on two tiny, barely visible pinpricks on his neck as his eyes turned to find Drake watching him from the doorway. Hastily, he dropped his hand, a mild flush rising to his cheeks as he turned his gaze back out the window. Not knowing quite what to say, he opted for silence, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing in his neck and the brief, faint flicker of hunger that he hadn’t felt for even the barest instant when eyeing the soup.
“You should sleep. If you were feeling sick earlier, I don’t want you coming down with something.” Surprised at the larger man’s concern, if only for such a mild thing, Teige turned his gaze back, but Drake had already begun the process of undressing, not bothering to look at him as he added, “If I get sick because of you…you can count on dying an early death.”
Glum, the younger man spun back to the window, plopping his chin on his on his crossed arms and scowling at the innocent night for lack of a better target. “I’m not tired.”
“We leave early.”
“I don’t care.”
“Fine by me.”
Teige risked a single glance backward, not really moving but tilting his head enough to get a one-eye glimpse of the man behind him. Immediately, he regretted it. Even with only his back visible, a shirtless Davinoff with his hands at the belt buckle gave plenty enough of a view to bring unmistakable color to the smaller man’s otherwise pallid cheeks. Rust red hair hung thick and loose almost six inches past full broad shoulders, not even half-way covering a seemingly endless view of tan, caramel brown skin that only the rough cotton edge of tattered leggings ended. When the clink of metal on wood signaled the belts decent to the floor, Teige instantly made to turn away, but Drake’s voice caught him halfway around.
“I assure you, you will find nothing new on me that you haven’t seen on naked men before. It’s not necessary to make an inspection.”
Cheeks ablaze with shame, Teige snapped up to a full sitting position, mouth opening, then closing again before he could come up with any logical excuse. “I-…that’s not what I…”
“Get in bed.” Teige turned his gaze to the window as he heard Drake’s pants drop to the floor and the shuffle of sheets as the larger man entered his own cot. “I can’t teach anything to a half-asleep queer.”
“Being raped by a vampire for four years doesn’t mean I bed men for pleasure…” He mumbled quietly, more to himself than Davinoff, but he felt sure he heard a muffled snort of disbelief from under the covers across the room. Perhaps for good reason.
Pale moonlight glimmered across already silvern features as dark ebony eyes watched from a distance, long silver strands whipping lightly about the otherwise stony features like a weightless veil.
“He thinks you held him for four years?” The voice came leaden with scorn and disbelief, scoffing the facts as it came up from behind the other. For the first time in hours, the stature-like silhouette moved, turning only eyes and head the barest inch to view the approaching figure.
“I gave him no real sense of time. He gazed on his reflection and no longer saw the child I took into my keeping…he has reason for his assumptions.”
A dismissive snort answered the comment as a dark-haired man, similar in build to his companion, came up beside him. Gracefully dropping to a half-crouch, two fingers pressing to the rooftop below him to steady his balance, the second man followed the direction of the other’s eyes to a petite figure, currently staring almost wistfully out the window of the adjacent building. After a moment, he shook his head.
“You’re a fool, Cyprien…the human’s folly has rubbed off on you. Barely a year with him and yet…” His eyes traveled over his companion, the gaze a dark mixture of black, brown, and burgundy, much like his hair. “You’ve fallen for him.”
Twin ebony snapped up instantly at the comment, Cyprien’s gaze radiating danger as he issued a low growl of warning. “You lie.” He hissed, baring the smallest flash of fangs along his lower lip and eyes glowing reddish for one brief instant before they steadied.
“Then why did you release him!” The other shouted, more an accusation than a question. “Don’t expect me to believe that foolish ape bested you? Even among the immortals you’re a renowned fighter…and yet you let the mortal hunter walk. You surrender, so willingly-“
“I did not surrender!” Cyprien’s voice far overpowered the other’s, and for a moment, an eerie silence took over. When he spoke again, it came out barely above a whisper, heated and fierce with intent. “I chose to let the boy go, Raspel, for reasons that of no significance to you, and I would suggest…that you do me the honor of leaving my private business as such. Private.” At that point, his gaze turned back to the window, now closed, and his last words came out distant, almost inaudible. “Perhaps I simply grew tired of the boy…”
After a moment, still eying his companion doubtfully, Raspel nodded slowly. “Perhaps…” He agreed, quiet but unconvinced. “…or…” His face turned in the opposite direction to view the dark night and shadowed moon behind them, his own final comment catching on the wind, unheard by anyone but himself. “Perhaps your heart finally softened to his pleas…”
Falcon Bertille: Yay! New chapter! Poor Drake -- it just keeps getting worse and worse for him, doesn\'t it? The way you write him, I can really sense all these emotions bubbling beneath the surface, fighting to burst out. At the end of the chapter, when he nearly yelled at his horse, I thought that was perfect. It really showed how far he\'d been pushed. Also, it was really funny. It\'s interesting that he can\'t quite let go of the idea of Teige being female, still addressing him as \"Woman\". Still can\'t quite come to terms with any attraction he might feel towards a male. I have a feeling Teige will help him with that one, although not before causing him to unravel like a cheap sweater. Oh yes, I definitely anticipate much tasty angst to come!
My favorite line from this part: \"...about as useful as soggy firewood.\" LOL! I just love Teige\'s dry wit. In some ways, he comes across as stronger than Drake. Drake may have a lot of muscles, but even now, Teige has a much more honest sense of himself.
Can\'t wait for more!
Love,
Falcon
^^ Up to chapter nine…and he still hasn’t stopped calling him ‘woman’. I have a feeling by this point…that it probably won’t go away…ever. Even after he comes to terms with the attraction (which will also likely take a frustratingly long amount of time…xP). And yes, much angst…bwhahaha. xD
Yay! Phew…I’m glad you said that because, for me, the traditional uke with nothing but a tight ass and high DID (damsel in distress) complex, can get boring fast. Considering that Teige started off in a frilly dress waiting in a tower for his prince charming…I was kinda worried that no one would ever see him for much more than that, but I’m glad at least you do. ^^ Thank you for the lovely reviews as always!
Corenn: This mercenarary is... is... A NON GENTLMAN ! (I have sook the english word for it but haven\'t found it O_o) >__<
Don\'t give up on the bishie... Does this mean ?... *______* *wait and hope*
Anyway... I love this story !
And to finish this wonderful review... A HUG TO THE AUTHOR ! *jump on the susnamed author and hug her* Bwahahahahahaha
xD No, Drake is most certainly not a gentleman…and certainly not toward people who disturb his delicate sense of balance. (Which I’m afraid will be happening quite a lot in chapters to come…) Yes, it does mean…what do you think of Cyprien’s great return? :gonk: It actually made me all happy inside when you first regretted the loss of him…cause when I first posted this I was already planning on bringing him in later. Our dear Cyprien will actually, in all likelihood, have a very important role in thickening the plot later on…
xDD Whoot! I get a hug….*considers* I think…that this is the first time I’ve gotten a hug from my reviewers……oh no, there was one other in my last story, but she’s gone now. v_v Thank you anyways! XD ^^ The reviews are such wonderful encouragement.
MakaiKitty: Well, I\'m betting that there\'s something that he can do to change Drake\'s mind *LOL* Great chapter, can\'t wait to read more!
xD Oh yes, I’m sure there are a LOT of ‘somethings’ that he could do to change his mind…but we’ll have to wait for that. Thanks for reviewing! ^^
Momo_Mochi: I really like it! How long was Teige stuck in the tower? Did he have family? Either I wasn\'t paying attention or I would really really like to know (meaning: KEEP WRITING !!!! please? )
Thanks,
Thanks! I did actually mention those things…but I don’t mind reiterating. Teige THOUGHT he was stuck in the tower for about four years because he knew Cyprien had captured him at age seventeen, and he thought he looked at least that many years older. He’d actually been captured for only about a year. He doesn’t have a family that he knows of…he grew up as an orphan, pushed aside by the rest of society in his younger years mostly because of his size.
Thank you so much for reviewing! ^^