Writers note:

Originally rated M to be on the safe side, but I've been told the mentions of adult contend are too brief to be offending and I could rate it T. But if anyone thinks otherwise feel free to tell me and I'll change it back asap!

This was once a very old drabble I started and never looked at it again. However, as soon as I decided to share it the plot bunnies began breeding... I just wanted to go through what I had and erase some spelling and grammar errors as they gave birth and I found myself chasing fluffy little plot bunny babies all over the text... aaaaand right into a second chapter... then a third ... suddenly I was writing the fourth and knew it would not end till the fifth.
Damned little monsters!
Now I have finished this in 5 short chapters. I don't feel the need to write anything longer and I don't have the time.

But still, this is haunting me! Shush you terrible little bunny! Leave me alone or I'll have bunny-stew!

In The Wake Of A Monster

The once somewhat beautiful but overly palatial suite was in complete chaos.

Draperies had been shredded to bits, intricate knickknacks and ornaments thrown around like trash, valuable throws and pillows tossed around; some of them had burst and spilled their stuffing everywhere. Boards and cabinets had been emptied, their contents searched, mostly destroyed and thrown around.

With all the disarranged stuff filling the room and the dim light coming from somewhere outside one might have overlooked the slim figure huddling in a corner, partly covered by a drapery hanging half ripped from a lopsided curtain pole.

It was a young man breathing heavily.

In a way he looked like a strange humanoid reflection of the disarranged room. His brow was split and blood was slowly tickling down at the side of his swollen and beaten face. His eyes were closed but one could see he was still awake by the haunted look of a drowning desperation that had twisted his handsome features into a mask of pain and fear. His body was leaning in the corner as if he could not bear to hold upright without support. His left arm was clutching around his midsection, his right arm was hanging uselessly at his side, hand resting on the floor.

His clothes were in disarray just like everything around him; revealing his long slender neck now blemished with bruising broken only by a nicely carved golden band snuggling tightly around his throat. The heavily ornamented writing on it said: Tesorino ~ property of Cartagia.

He looked strange for a Centauri. His hair was a light golden blonde and hadn't his eyes been shut in pain one would have seen amazingly silver eyes. He was a caprice of nature, the Centauri-version of an albino. An extremely rare and beautiful creature if not beaten to a pulp.

His rasped breath was the only noise inside the room. However he could hear the turmoil outside and he was afraid what those who caused it would do to him if he was found eventually.

He sighted and tried to move into a more comfortable position but a stinging pain ripping through his body made him stop that instantly.

He had belonged to Cartagia, the former emperor of the great Centauri-regime. The people involved into the plot that had resulted in the emperor's death on Narn had made short process with what they believed to be the emperor's faithful minion.

No one had ever bothered to ask him what he thought about his former master.

He had never had a choice in the question whether or not he'd like to be in the company of the madman someone had seen fit to ascend to the throne. When he'd been six, Tesorino had been given to Cartagia as a gift, to be used as a playmate as much as a servant or whatever the young prince would decide to use him for. The young noble had just been a few years older. The slave had been a valuable one because of his rare genetics; he was probably taken from a powerless and insignificant family by someone who thought him to be useful. He couldn't remember when or how or even by whom it had been done.

He was raised to serve and obey; he knew nothing else. Usually one might have tried to raise him further, train him as a servant and tried to marry him to a woman that might have been able to carry his rare traits to their children, this way getting more valuable slaves since the child of a slave is a slave.

But when rumors spread that the young Cartagia might one time become emperor, the parties involved with schemes and plans concerning the young man had bought Tesorino and decided that an exotic plaything like him would buy them the favor of the young prince, a plan that had worked quite well since the prince had become very fond of his slave in his own twisted way.

The room faded away when the beaten Centauri delved into his memories, away from the destroyed room and the noise of the still rummaging Narn.

At first it hadn't been that bad. Cartagia had been a lonely child. Just as much as any royal or even just slightly noble child at the royal palace was. Between eternal lessons in anything and everything, permanent monitoring and never ending duties, the new child slave he had at his disposal was a welcome distraction and he felt good by being friendly and generous. Tesorino thought back at these times often in later years and his heart would burn with longing just as it did now. It really hadn't been bad at all. Since he was very young he also had had his continuous lessons to help him being an appropriate aid and personal servant to the young prince so the boy would never forget his place, never doubted his low status and non-existent value apart from a price if sold; but still Tesorino had felt as if the young prince cared for him, maybe even liked him. It was the first time in his life he had the feeling he mattered to anyone beyond his worth in money and it was dazzling. He knew even back then, as young as he was, that this was nothing to be trusted but he could not hold back his growing love for a master who treated him kindly, even affectionately.

Now he lay forgotten on the floor of Cartagia's rooms in the palace of the Narn-homeworld, covered in the marks and injuries from the beating he received when his own people had come to these rooms to search them and secure nothing crucial would be left here. He cringed when a cough made his broken bones and dislocated joint sending searing pain through his body. He might have deserved it if his love had persisted and the relationship between him and Cartagia had survived unblemished.

But when Cartagia had grown older his ways of self-indulgence had become more and more twisted and vicious and so had the treatment of his personal slave.

Tesorino had soon been the victim of Cartagia's every whim. Whenever his master had been bored and wasn't able to find anything else to occupy his time he had loved to find new ways to tease and test his servants obedience. Whenever the young man managed to make Tesorino fail he'd been more than happy to find new and creative ways to punish him for failure without letting his own more and more immoral tendencies show to others. Cartagia also had hold back whenever he was in court or surrounded by others. But whatever or whoever dared to anger the already self-aggrandizing and deranging prince would not learn about his true feelings. Cartagia's self-restraint was flawless he would not let go and destroy his chances for glory by showing how enraged he felt if anything didn't go like he wanted it. Not until the blossoming sociopath was alone with his servant who had no one to turn to and could not tell anything that happened behind closed doors. If he had even tried to he wouldn't have needed Cartagia for punishment. A traitorous slave would be snuffed out, whatever reason he might have to betray his master. So Tesorino could only endure. The change of treatment made Tesorino's heart break but he had told himself that any affection he had felt coming from his master had to be an illusion, a whim at best: It was all he could do to ensure his master treatment didn't break his spirit. Well, maybe Cartagia had loved him. But if a man like the shortly deceased emperor of the Centauri regime was capable of something like love, it was a poisonous and twisted feeling no decent being would be able to recognize for love. What he definitely did cherish though was the possession of Tesorino as a slave.

Remembering this times Tesorino's hand wandered up to his neck for a brief moment, touching the golden ring. It felt smooth and warm. He guessed, when they'd tried to strangle him they hadn't even noticed how it had prevented them from blocking his windpipe completely. In a way it had saved his life, whatever this was worth.

As soon as he had been fully grown Cartagia had a jeweler made the collar and attach it to his neck to show his affection. He had drugged the slave into unconsciousness and when the younger man woke up again it had been there. His master had meant it as a gift which he expected Tesorino to be grateful for. It could not be removed easily if it was even possible at all. As far as he could say, it hadn't even a fastener one could feel. It was meant to show Tesorino off as well as to show the carrier as much as anyone else his status and belonging. It was a tight fit, intricately carved and decorated; a glittering golden band winding closely around his neck with no start and no ending; a constant reminder of eternal enslavement. Attached to its front was a very fragile looking ring, right beneath the writing. It was barely visible, made to blend into the carved ornaments and it looked as if it could be ripped apart by the tiniest pull. Tesorino knew from experience that it could hold his own weight and some more easily. Cartagia had tested it. Often.

When it was decided to let Cartagia ascend the throne he was widely perceived as a silly and easily manageable fool; knowing that the power would lay with those who had helped him to it and easily to be guided from the dark; a puppet on the throne. But Tesorino would have known better and could have warned them if anyone would have bothered to ask.

Cartagia's father had known too but he was death long before he could warn anyone. After all, one of his last decisions had been to remove parts of Tesorino's male anatomy special only to Centauri to prevent clinging marks on his son after he started exploring all kinds of strange sexual practices starting with the subject easiest available. The only reason they hadn't just castrated him was that they still had the hope Cartagia would sooner or later loose interest and then the unique slave could be used as breeding stock. The young servant once had overheard a conversation between Cartagia's father and another noble that he was happy that Cartagia had not been given a female to his disposal since it would have been very unfortunate to get rid of any unwanted spouses. Within the strict rules of the Centauri-society it could not be appropriate for a noble to have offspring destined for slavery while on the other hand it would be a shame to throw away lucrative possibilities.

But whatever he did to his slave, even Cartagia didn't want to risk marring his beauty beyond repair, knowing very well that it would be almost impossible to get a surrogate if he broke his favorite toy. Had he not held back but destroyed his slaves beauty it would have been the chance for Tesorino to escape his master alive. Maybe even free if his maiming would have been accidental and the emperor was feeling generous. But Cartagia had still been fond of Tesorino, even if that only meant to make him suffer even more, which was the reason that when the prince inflicted wounds on his body they would only leave scars barely visible at first glance.

While musing about his actual situation he remembered how he himself had thought back then that he would have traded with anyone anytime. Anything to escape the life he had. While lying here, slouching in a corner of an abandoned palace, he thought how little he had known about how bad it would become and about real suffering until later.

But first, soon after Cartagia's ascension, it had even become better for him since now his master had many targets for his attention and Tesorino was allowed to be nothing more than a servant again. Well at least most of the time. Tesorino was a trained and gifted singer people would kill to be allowed to listen to but although Cartagia loved him singing, occasionally he still seemed to love his voice even more when it was hoarse from screams or if he could make him beg for mercy.

Cartagia still had kept him very close. Envious of every look his servant got for his exotic beauty and his deep and beautiful voice he barely let him leave his masters rooms or Tesorino's own very small room, adjacent to Cartagia's suites, which could only be entered or left through the Emperor's very own bedroom.

Then the Narn had been brought to the royal court.

It was a nightmare. Whenever the mad and self-aggrandizing emperor got unsatisfied with the amusement provided by the last of the Kha'Ri he let his temper loose with his personal servant.

The Narn seemed to be not very entertaining lots of times.

When the Narn refused to bow Cartagia made Tesorino do it instead, if the Narn refused to scream the madman 'tested' new ways to try and make him do on his servant and even the refusal to maim his darling didn't mean that the torture was any less painful or humiliating.

But still, Tesorino new he'd been death or maimed a long time ago if Cartagia hadn't been fond of him in his own sick way. It wasn't just his beauty and his voice. All depended on his obedience and his ability to satisfy the wishes of a madman. And he managed. Somehow he managed to keep Cartagia's interest and to amuse him again and again.

But the cost was high and bitter; too bitter to just endure without any consequences.

Back then he had started to take pride in his own secret resistance. Being ordered not to scream he held back as long as needed, but not as long as he could have. Knowing that if he deceived Cartagia he would withhold from his master what he wanted without letting him know. Often the emperor tested new ideas before used on the stubborn Narn on him and he knew, although his master would make the torture somewhat harder on the Narn his deception still made him do less than he could. At least, if healthy, a Centauri wasn't that much weaker than a Narn and the servant himself was considered healthy and resilient.

If one would have bothered to ask the emperor he would have told there was no one as obedient and pliable as his servant; that even Tesorino's hearts would beat in a rhythm he desired if possible but it wasn't true. Secretly, deep down his inner core, Tesorino was fighting. If he was meant to stand up as long as possible, he'd stand as long as needed to satisfy the sadist, not a second longer. Cartagia didn't know, but that made it even better, made it feel even more like resistance. He took pride in the fact that he would be able to withstand much more than his master believed him to be able; to be stronger than supposed; to lie down because he wanted to and not because he had to; to scream because he wanted to and not because the monster made him. He knew that many would not think it mattered, but he also knew it did. After all it was all he got.

Tesorino clutched his abdomen again the throbbing pain from the beating momentarily drawing him out of his memories. He had been waiting in this suite for his master to come back when the door had been pushed open and Centauri had entered unauthorized and without warning. They had come the moment the word had spread that the emperor had been confirmed dead and the freshly appointed Prime Minister Mollari had announced that the Centauri would leave the planet. Of course Tesorino hadn't known any of this. Who would remember or even bother to tell any news to a servant or even more: a slave?

Anyhow they had remembered that Cartagia had kept him close. Since the slave lived separated from all other servants and barely spoke to anyone besides Cartagia himself, they had assumed the sadist emperor had loved and pampered his 'little pet' and also assumed these feelings were mutual. They just saw the lush clothes and the glittering collar they considered jewelry. They didn't see beneath the surface. Few people could have told a different story and none of these would bother even if they knew what happened to him right now. When Tesorino had stepped up to prevent intruders into his masters rooms as was expected from him they hadn't even hesitated a second.
The first hit to his stomach would already have overthrown the servant if they hadn't caught and hold him. They had teased the defenseless man with what had happened, believing it would be painful. They had said that no one would bother to bring home a used up boy toy. Meanwhile they had beaten him with fury, tugging and thrusting at their victim with so much force the young man had felt as if he was back at the torture chambers he had seen too close when Cartagia had reenacted what had been done to G'Kar. But this time no one cared if a slave was marked or not. Two assailants had held him while a third one had twisted his arm backwards further and further until the shoulder dislocated with a painful plopping feeling and a disgusting crunching sound. Tesorino's frenetic struggles and screams made them laugh. They had kicked, hit and tugged him harder and harder but luckily they were short in time. So eventually they had strangled him until blackness had swallowed his mind and left the limp body thrown out of the way in the corner believing their victim to be dead, not bothering to make sure, while bruises started blooming on his neck where he had been grabbed and choked. When Tesorino awoke later most light was gone and he could barely see. It took great effort and hurt like hell when he tried to sit up but he managed and it was much easier to breathe after he leaned in his corner. After a while his eyes adjusted to the dim light falling through the slightly opened door and he could see his surroundings.

Now he listened in fear to the oncoming noises of the Narn raiding the abandoned building; destroying everything the Centauri had left behind. Tears run down his face and he shuddered. They were so close.

He fixated his eyes on the door which stood slightly ajar. There someone would appear eventually; ready to end his life. Which hope could he have otherwise after what his own people had done to him? Which hope was there that a Narn would see what they had refused to see; that the main-victims of the greed that had robbed the Narn-homeworld and destroyed lives and families would feel mercy for another victim not as easily recognized as such? Even his own people who should know about the slavery on their own planet and the colonies just as well as the way Cartagia had threatened anyone in range hadn't even supposed he could not be a pampered sycophant.

Soon the noises became louder; they must be right at the door. His breath quickened and he tried again to raise himself but his earlier attackers had not only dislocated his shoulder but also broken his left tight bone and ankle. They must have been kicking him some more after he blackened out since he could not remember how this had happened. With a pitiful, barely suppressed whimper he sank back. There was no escape. He could hear the rush of his blood in his ears and the fast beatings of his hearts. His breath became more erratic and thereby more painful but he forced himself to stay silent. After all that happened, after all been done to him and although he hadn't the slightest idea what to do now he still didn't want to die.

Finally the door swung widely open and the light became brighter when a Narn entered the room. Although the noise penetrating through the walls and the door indicated people raging outside this Narn seemed almost calm. He had his head lowered and sighted. He was wearing a sword behind his back and his clothes were surprisingly neat and not nearly as ragged as those of the others Tesorino had glimpsed at though the windows before Cartagia had died.

The other shuffled casually through the mess. Tesorino didn't know that this Narn as well as the others that had peeked through the lightly ajar door into the room had thought it had been already broken by other Narn and not the leaving Centauri. Little did he know about the hours he had missed unconscious, lying hidden under some fallen draperies which had covered him entirely until he woke and struggled to rise. The Narn also didn't know that these rooms had been meant for the monster whose death they were celebrating now.

The Narn soon sauntered near the half hidden figure huddled in the corner still without noticing it. He kicked a dented golden goblet out of the way; unintentionally flinging it at the broken ankle of the Centauri. Although Tesorino managed to hold back a moan along with his breath his leg twitched involuntarily, making the cup rolling away again, clattering noisily over some broken glass. The Narn followed the movement of the cup backwards with his eyes; stopping death when he realized that he was looking at a boot connected to a leg in tight golden trousers. His eyes wandered up the beaten body and with a more stunned than surprised expression the Narn locked his red eyes with the silver ones of the uncommon Centauri.

They looked at each other for seconds which seemed to last for eternities.

Eventually the Centauri managed a forced laugh that resembled more a cough than anything joyful.

"Are you going to finish what they started?"

The Narn looked disgusted; "What?"

Tesorino giggled a bit; still joyless and pained. He gathered all the strength he had left and rambled on: "They left me here you know? Maybe they forgot me but it's also possible they left me for you. So you can finish me off that is. They didn't care if I've been really dead you know. They knew you would finish what they started anyway."

A shudder run through his body and he looked away when the Narn carefully moved closer. Finally the man crouched in front of him and Tesorino forced himself to look back into these unreadable red eyes just as the Narn made a move to reach out for him.

"Please…" he choked out before his voice hitched and died. The gloved hands stopped shortly before touching him. He was so frightened of what they would do to him when they touched that he shook violently. His breath now came in erratic and painful gasps and he could barely sit upright.

"What is it?" asked the Narn, his voice dark and calm.

The Centauri swallowed hard. He needed all his strength to force himself to look into those terrifying eyes. He felt darkness creeping in and sucking on his grim determination never to give into fear. He still wanted desperately to survive but he also knew his chances were close to zero. All he had left to do was clinging to his last shreds of dignity. He could barely hold back a sob and his voice nearly broke but with the faintest whisper he managed to finish his plea:

"Please do it fast."