Rise.

Back in Marik's quarter, Ayo suggested that Róan try to spend some time getting acquainted with his new home. Euan was allowed to be there as long as Ayo was, and so the three walked through together, exploring closets and side rooms. Euan tried to be positive, Róan noticed, praising the fine wood, the soft couches and rugs, the space and the lighting. Many of the smaller rooms were unfurnished and seemed rarely used. Wolfe architecture seemed to favor centralized, circular designs, almost Greek in nature. Thick dark woods and deep rich colors were also favorites. In the central living area, there was a room filled with the same kind of cream-and-crimson couches seen in the public sitting area. There was a large screen on the wall by the door, which Ayo introduced as a television, something with which Róan was completely unfamiliar. There were a few low wooden tables - for eating on the floor or couches, Ayo explained - and a writing table by the window.
Róan was standing by the writing table, looking uncomprehendingly over some papers spread on the desk when his brother nudged him.
"Don't you have things you should be doing?"
Róan stared blankly back at him. Euan furrowed his brow.
"Ro, please don't make me worry about you." he lowered his voice. "I thought you were going to behave, like a good sub."
Róan hated to hear those words, but they did trigger an immediate set of memories.
"I am, I just...forgot."
Euan looked worried.
"Please don't forget."
Róan sighed and looked around.
"Where should I start? Everything is done already."
"Then start with yourself. Give him a reason to come home to you."
Róan sat on the floor in the bedroom while Euan brushed his hair and braided bits of it, then he went over his skin with oils to make it glow. Ayo sat on one of the sofas by the bed and flipped idly through channels on the television, a device which Róan found immensely interesting, and kept demanding that Ayo explain more about it to him, until Ayo said his knowledge was exhausted because he didn't know how the damn thing worked, he just knew it did.
"Do they record everything?"
"No, just some things. Interesting things." Ayo was trying to watch drawings move on the screen.
"Are we on television?" Ayo laughed, which Róan thought was rude, but he was too curious to be offended.
"No. We're not actors, and we're also not interesting. Not right now, at least." Ayo drifted off with the storyline, and Róan kept trying to look up at the screen with him, which bothered Euan because he was trying to braid and had to keep jerking his brother's head back into position. After a while, Ayo glanced over.
"Do you want a shave or a wax?" Róan blinked at him, slightly confused. Shave what? His underarms? Some of the subs in the clan did that. But he didn't have much hair there, and didn't think it would make much difference. Maybe his face? That seemed unlikely, because he'd never had to shave a day in his life. It had made him popular among the males in his clan - the boyish look he had. His hand went unconsciously to his chin, which Ayo noticed.
"I meant the southern cross." Ayo said, wryly.
Now the look was even more quizzical.
"It's common here. You can - nevermind." Ayo shrugged the suggestion off and Euan finished Róan's hair and let him stand. As he stretched, Euan turned to Ayo.
"Ayo, where can we find some clothes for him?"
Euan was sizing up his brother, who stood in front of him in only the white robe he'd worn from the bath. It was slightly large and tied loosely, making Róan look even smaller within it. Ayo nodded and went to one of the closets in the wall. The first two he tried were filled with the wolfe's clothing, but the third had in it only a few hanging and a few folded items, all in Róan's size.
"Had them made when you first arrived." Ayo explained. Euan glanced at the quiet chronometer on the wall above them. Róan picked out a few things, then headed off to the other room to change. Ayo stopped him.
"Honestly, you've got to get used to this. Strip. Dress here. It's fine." Róan glanced at Euan, who shrugged his agreement. Red-faced, he did as he was told. It took about twenty minutes before they decided on what he would wear. A deep gold shirt that fit him closely and crimson robe with gold trim to wrap around his shoulders and tie at the waist, both in a lush and comfortable fabric. From his pocket, Euan produced a familiar small gold bangle. Róan gaped at it.
"How did you get this?"
"Grabbed it just before they toted us out of there. Managed to hang on to it through the processing. My wolfe told me I could keep it." he smiled. "Thought you might miss it."
Róan grinned, delighted to be reunited with his lucky bracelet.
"Also thought you might need it now, more than ever." Behind them, Ayo was getting to his feet and gathering his things, an indication that it was time to go. Euan's face suddenly turned serious.
"Please, Róan, be good." He stroked his hair again, and Róan turned his face into it.
"I will."
Euan glanced at the chrono again.
"I have to get back. Do you want to have dinner together?"
Róan nodded vigorously.
"Ask your wolfe." Euan's reminder checked his enthusiasm.
"Right. Will do."
"Do you know how to reach me?"
"Ayo showed me how to use the communicators. And I know what wing you live in."
"Which one?" his brother challenged and Róan rolled his eyes.
"Raven. And I live in Hemlock. I'm not a child, Euan."
"I know, I know. I was just checking." he gave Róan one more hug.
"Till evening, then."
Róan nodded, trying to appear nonchalant, thinking to put his brother at ease.
"'Till evening."
Ayo waved as the two went to the door, where a servant had materialized to show them out.

It was almost dark when the door opened, and Róan, who had spent the day preparing himself for exactly this moment, was caught completely off-guard. He leapt to his feet and turned just in time to catch the smile spreading over his wolfe's face.
"Hello."
"Hi." Róan was suddenly shy, and Marik's smile got wider. His eyes took in the length of Róan's body; his skin the color of brandy, ripe and glowing from the oils; the rich fabrics of his clothing; the small jewelry. It was a far cry from the dirty, half-naked animal he'd looked like that morning. He was, in fact, beautiful. Marik felt a stirring and knew immediately he hadn't made a mistake in mating this one.
"This is a nice surprise."
The wolfe cast another appraising look over him, and Róan anxiously fingered the fabric of the robe that he was wearing and double checked that it was closed around the waist. Marik crossed the room, passing close to Róan, and busied himself stripping off a set of weaponry, none of the pieces of which Róan recognized. Róan rushed over to help him, and Marik directed him to put the weaponry into a closet across the room, of which Róan made a mental note.
"Well, thank you, little one."
Róan choked back a snarky response.
"Have you eaten?"
Róan shook his head.
"Do you want to go to the common meal, or eat here?"
Róan hesitated.
"My brother."
Marik stood where he was and waited patiently for him to finish, but Róan didn't seem to know how to go on.
"You want to eat with your brother?"
Róan nodded.
"Is he in the dining hall?"
Róan bit his lip, which Marik found incredibly fetching but tried to ignore.
"I think - can he come here?"
Marik nodded and began to meander across the room.
"This is your home now, Róan. Your family is always welcome."
Róan looked relieved, but backed away as Marik came too close on his way to the bedroom. Marik stopped in the doorway.
"You are still afraid."
Róan chose not to respond.
"Come." Róan obeyed slowly, winding his way between furniture to take the slowest possible route through the sitting room to his mate. Marik didn't rush him, just waited patiently in the door way until Róan got as close as he was going to get. The wolfe turned and led him into the living quarters, down the short hallway to their bedroom. Róan stalled at the threshold, but Marik went on walking and he soon followed behind. In the bedroom, Róan looked anywhere but at his mate's face.
"Sit." he did so quickly, on the edge of the bed, and Marik found himself wondering where the spirit of that morning had gone.
"Those are beautiful robes. You look nice."
"Thank you, alpha."
"That color suits you well."
Róan glanced up to gauge his wolfe's mood. He seemed tame enough.
"I will wear it again if it pleases you, alpha."
Marik eyed him.
"You're very obedient."
Róan reddened appropriately at the semi-compliment.
"Thank you, alpha. My alpha." he corrected himself quickly. Marik frowned.
"Use my name, Róan."
Róan blinked.
"Marik-my-Alpha." It came out like one word.
Marik exhaled in frustration.
"Just my name."
Now he was stripping to the waist, standing by one of the closets which, Róan now knew, was full of his clothing. He pulled out a cream colored robe and put it on but didn't tie it. It hung on his broad shoulders and left his massive chest exposed. Róan tried hard not to stare as Marik came closer.
"What happened to you? You were so fiery this morning."
the wolfe sounded disappointed and Róan felt fear rise in his throat. He knew well that a disappointed male was a dangerous one.
"I'm sorry, alph - I'm sorry. I'll brighten up."
"I don't want you to brighten up. I want you to be you. What happened while I was gone?"
The question seemed rhetorical, and Marik was on the move again, going to the writing desk by the window, so Róan just carefully watched the wall ahead of him.
"Did someone say something to you?"
Marik was back to close now, standing just next to the bed. Róan risked another glance up at him, and found nothing but concern in his wolfe's face.
"No, sir."
"No titles, Róan."
Confusion set in.
"But you said - "
"That was then. This is now." the wolfe was curt, which Róan took as further displeasure. Euan would be so disappointed in him right now. They weren't ever going to get to have dinner together, because he was going to upset his wolfe and then there wouldn't be any dinner. Róan remembered hungry nights with Stephen well.
"I apologize. I shouldn't have argued."
Stephen would have punished him anyway, but the wolfe seemed willing enough to let it go. That was good. Maybe Euan was right. Maybe things here wouldn't be so bad. Then Marik sat down on the bed, and Róan felt his heartbeat quicken.
"Calm down."
Róan amenably tried to relax, but the wolfe was getting closer now. The bed dipped next to him.
"I can hear your heartbeat. You're terrified."
"I am fine, alpha."
"Róan."
Ro realized his error immediately, but apologies after a repeated mistake were unacceptable, and so he kept his silence. Silence would probably prevent any further punishment, and could be penance in itself. It was a lesson he'd learned well with Stephen, who would make him keep silence for days after he'd mouthed off, under threat of whipping his brother. To bite his tongue was agony every time, worse even than the bite of the strap. But this wolfe was not Stephen. He would have his own methods. Róan kept his silence anyway while Marik continued to watch him.
Getting no response from his mate but a calculated assessment of the floor, Marik eventually gave up and laid back on the bed.
"Call your brother for dinner, Róan. Tell him to meet us here in twenty minutes." Relieved to have been both forgiven (for the time being) and assigned a task, Róan sprang up and went to the wall to send a message to his brother. Once it was done, he turned back to find his wolfe watching him.
"Are you still sore?"
Róan blushed furiously but managed to shake his head no. Marik looked him over.
"Come lie down."
The color drained from Róan's face and he wished he'd said yes, but it was too late to lie now. Marik sensed his discomfort.
"Not for that. I won't be touching you again until we're mated, Róan, you can be assured of that. Now come lie down and rest until your brother gets here. You're far too anxious."
Still suspicious, Róan approached the bed tentatively and stretched out far from his mate. Marik hooked one arm around and drew him up to his side.
"Tell me about your clan."
There was a pause.
"What did you want to know?"
"Who did you live with there?"
"My brother, Euan. And our father, before he died. After Father, Stephen lived with us until he was killed in a raid, a few weeks before you came."
"A raid? By whom?"
"It was our raid; on another clan. They were better defended, but Stephen thought he could do it."
"You don't seem sad."
"Neither Euan nor I were very sorry to see him go."
"Who was he? Why did he live with you?"
"He was...my brother's male. No subs are not allowed to live alone, so when our father died, it was either take Stephen or be split up and assigned to a male each."
"You're a...sub?"
Marik had no idea what that meant, but pieces were starting to come together in his head.
"Yes. Euan too."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you don't get a say in much, mostly. It means you have to stay at the camp most of the time and help take care of home stuff. You can't go on raids, or train as a warrior. You can't speak unless you're spoken to. Can't hold positions of leadership. And sometimes you have to entertain the clan leaders."
"Entertain." Marik's voice was grim.
"Not like that. Not with sex. That might come, later, but only if the leader is sufficiently senior enough to convince your own male to give you up, and he takes you on as his sub. Our father would never have given us up to anyone, unless maybe we'd asked. He loved us too much. And once Stephen had Euan, of course, he was simply too jealous and possessive of us to let anyone else come close. To have two subs meant a lot of status for him."
"Is that very uncommon? Having two subs?"
Róan shrugged.
"As uncommon as the clan leaders want it to be. In our clan, it was not very common. There were only twenty-three subs to fifty males. Forty-seven after our father and a few others got sick."
"How old were you when that happened?"
"Fourteen."
"And Euan was?"
"Seventeen."
"And he and Stephen - they raised you?"
"Yes."
"As your parents?"
"Yes."
"So then Stephen and Euan -"
"Yes."
"But you weren't sorry to see him go?"
Róan actually turned to face his wolfe now.
"He was cruel to my brother. Euan still carries the scars of their time together. I would have killed him myself if it wouldn't have broken my brother's heart."
Marik felt the passion in his beta's words and knew immediately the love that these two had for one another.
"Your brother loved him."
"In his own way, yes."
Marik let the subject drop because he could sense the anger rising in his mate.
"You saw your brother this morning. Was there anyone else from your clan you wanted to see?"
"That clan is dead to us now."
Marik raised an eyebrow. Indeed, a lot had changed since he'd left that morning. At least Róan's personality seemed to be showing through again.
"Why?"
Róan sighed.
"They were never very good to Euan and I. And now Euan says that the clan leaders are gone - that they left us here. They have betrayed us, again. We are no longer interested in being associated with them."
"They were never good to you?"
Marik knew this discussion must be painful for Róan, but he didn't want to try to pick the topic up again later.
"Our father practically built the clan - before him, there was chaos; fighting, constantly, and betrayal and hunger, all the time. He forced them to accept and establish rules and rank. Some resented his rule, resented being forced to conform to laws. After he died, they took it out on us. They would push us around, be rude to us, ignore us at meals - we barely got enough to survive, even when there was plenty of food for the clan. They made us beggars. And when Stephen came - the way he acted, no one cared. Other subs didn't get treated the way we were, but nobody would help us. But still, we were loyal to them because it was what we'd been taught - it was all we knew. We didn't really have a choice."
Marik was silent.
"Stephen nearly killed my brother, twice. Once when I was fifteen, and again when I was seventeen. I stopped him, both times."
There was more silence.
"I have scars from Stephen."
Marik decided that it was time to make certain things clear to his mate.
"Róan, I will never treat you that way. You are not a sub here."
Róan opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. Marik waited. Finally, it came out.
"What am I?"
"First always, you are a free citizen of the Wolfish Empire. And in our way of life, everyone gets a voice. Even prisoners of war may speak about their conditions. Once you have become more accustomed to life here, I will explain the workings of our society and government to you. You are always free and welcome to participate. You may pursue an education if you choose, in any field that you like."
"But I am bound to your bed." Róan's voice was a whisper. Marik sighed heavily.
"You are not, until we are bonded. You may at any time refuse my mating, but it would perhaps not be the best choice for you."
"Why not?"
"We are in a reproductive crisis, Róan, and in times of crisis we do things that we would not normally do otherwise. All capable bearers must be bonded by twenty-seven, birthing by twenty-nine. Those who do not comply will be forcibly bred. In most places, the number of wolfes exceed bearers by a ratio of seventeen to one. But this is a small pack, and at the risk of sounding arrogant, I would say that you might not find a better mate in fair time. I am one of the highest-ranking unmated officers here, and there are others in our pack who are not so...sympathetic to the desires and concerns of their betas."
"They are like Stephen."
"No. We do not allow wolfes like Stephen to breed. Their possessiveness; their anger - it allows too much of our baser nature to be released. They are a danger to themselves and our society. We exile wolfes like that, leave them to survive on their own in the rough."
There was silence while Róan processed this. Then:
"Euan is twenty-six."
Marik was amazed at his young mate's ability to throw him for a loop at every turn. It was knots just trying to follow the young man's thought patterns.
"I know."
"He doesn't really get a choice, then, does he?"
Marik was silent and Róan changed topics.
"When we are bonded - will things be different between us?"
"What do you mean?"
"All the things you said - will they still be true?" there was a hint of a challenge in Róan's voice.
"Yes. To be bonded does not mean you lose your freedom."
Róan smiled to himself in satisfaction. They lay quietly for a few more minutes, Róan having become more relaxed during their conversation. Shortly, the door opened to reveal an olive-skinned boy with thick dark hair braided back from his face. Marik began to sit up.
"Ah, Medin. Róan, sit up and meet him."
Róan obeyed and sat up to see the young human, no more than sixteen, who watched him curiously from the doorway.
"This is your varon." Marik explained. "His name is Medin. He hasn't got any family, and he's too young to be bonded, so he will live here, with us, until he's old enough to take a mate. He will serve you in certain basic capacities, and you will raise him to be a satisfactory beta."
Róan blinked up at his mate.
"I will raise him?"
Marik nodded.
"Come here, Medin, and say hello."
The boy shyly made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge of it.
"Hello."
"Hi, Medin." This was fast becoming a more complicated situation than Róan had anticipated. Marik was frowning now at Medin.
"Medin, what did I tell you about this?" he picked up one of Medin's small braids between two large fingers. Medin didn't look frightened at all, Róan noted. Just petulant.
"Alpha Marik, it's just three of them."
"No, Medin. You are a child. Take them out."
Medin pouted, but began unbraiding faithfully, occasionally casting envious glances at Róan. Marik noticed this.
"Róan is an adult. And a soon to be mated one, at that. You, Medin, are a child. It is not appropriate."
Medin looked duly chastened, and glanced over at Marik before returning his gaze to Róan, then to the floor. His hair, now unbraided, fell in waves around his face.
"The meal is ready, Mate Róan. I put it in the lunch room; the dining room is not yet furnished."
Now Marik looked embarrassed.
"I never really needed to - there was always just me here."
Róan ignored Marik and turned his attention back to the boy.
"How old are you?"
Medin looked pretty frightened by this question for some reason, and looked back to Marik for assurance before redirecting his attention to the floor again.
"Fourteen, but I'm very mature and I promise I won't be any trouble. I learn really quickly and I'll be worth your time, Alpha Mate, I really will."
The words flowed out in a torrent, and Róan put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"It's OK. It's fine. I was just asking."
Medin searched his face, and Róan realized that Medin was as terrified of him as he was of his mate. He wondered what kind of power he had over this boy to make him so scared.
"Medin." Marik was looking sternly at the boy, which actually made him cower. "We talked about this, didn't we?"
Medin nodded.
"I chose you. That's all that should be said on the matter." Medin was silent, but still looked beseechingly at Róan. Róan looked to Marik for an explanation.
"Most varons are older, and only need two or three years of training. He's afraid that you won't want to care for him for six years or more."
Róan kind of reeled at the figure but felt such strong sympathy for the boy that he couldn't help but be willing.
"I am glad to have you, Medin."
The intercom chirped, announcing a visitor.
"Should I get that, Mate Róan?" Medin looked anxious for a reason to leave after Marik's two reprimands, so Róan nodded.
"We'll meet them at the table."

Marik and Róan were sitting together at the table when his brother rounded the corner.
Relief and joy lit Róan's features.
"What are you doing here?"
Róan's face fell, but when he turned to face his wolfe, he saw immediately that Marik's harsh words were directed not at Euan, but at the wolfe who accompanied him. Marik's face was low and his words were almost a growl. The wolfe across the room mirrored his stance.
"If I'd had any idea it was you we'd be coming to see, then believe me, I would not have accepted. It wouldn't have been worth my time."
Marik growled and began to rise from the table, but Róan's hand on his arm stopped him.
"Stop! Marik, that's my brother."
Marik looked at his mate.
"And that's mine."
Róan stared at him.
"Loban is your brother?"
"You knew his name?"
Medin was busy trying not to look interested by the window.
"Medin!" Marik barked. "Take your dinner to your room."
Medin pouted, but did as he was told, passing nervously between the two wolfes facing off across the room. Euan had stepped between them, too, and now he was speaking in a low voice to his wolfe, trying to calm him. Róan took advantage of the opportunity to speak to Marik.
"What's going on here?"
"He's my brother, Loban. Four years ago, he tried to steal my mate and I have never forgiven him."
"You have a mate?!"
"Had." Marik frowned. "I had a mate."
"And?"
"It didn't work out. Our bonding was never completed."
"Because of him?"
Marik shrugged noncommittally.
"If he hadn't interfered -"
"If I hadn't interfered, then you would be bonded to that tral today, and you'd have no one but yourself to blame."
Loban no longer looked angry, but Marik's rage had not subsided.
"Get out of my home, you traitor."
"Marik, please!"
Róan looked panicked.
"Euan is my brother. Haven't we been through enough? Please don't separate us again." Róan looked pleadingly up at his mate and suddenly Marik felt very, very selfish. He took Róan's hand in his own.
"You're right, Róan. I'm sorry." he looked up to where Loban was eyeing him suspiciously.
"Let's just eat."