They made Dipper kneel like he was about to pray, and maybe he should have. If the brunet was sure on his standing of gods he might have. The post was made of splintery wood, and it had been easy magick to lodge it in the ground of the courtyard. Courtyard was just a fancy word for the front of the palace, in the middle of where all the fancy carriages pulled up to drop off their fancy guests. Where the castle face was the most intimidating, and all the stones shone in the moonlight like dewdrops. Cobblestone dug irritatingly into his kneecaps and there was no comfortable way to position his half naked body.

The Huntsmen had removed his shirt, leaving him in tan trousers. His hands were bound to metal loops in the sides of the pole above his head, stretching his shoulders and leaving him facing the thin washed out oak pole. Splinters burrowed into his forearms, and sweat made his hair stick to his neck and forehead. News had traveled fast. It had only been close to an hour since his sentence and already almost half the village of Springsburrow, the town the castle was closest to, had come to witness his humiliation.

He hoped that none of his adoptive family or friends would be in the crowd, and yet he hoped they would come save him in time. Springsburrow was where they kept the PO box for any money or mail anyone who personally knew them wanted to send. However, they were travelers. Lee and Ford didn't have a permanent address, so no other part of the caravan did either. And considering they knew that Gideon would be on the lookout for them, they were probably moving more than normal. So it was unlikely that they were anywhere near where they could hear the news. This thought both disheartened Dipper and relieved him. He wanted to be saved, but he didn't want them to see the most mortifying moment of his life.

As ridiculous as it was, Dipper felt the worst part about this was that he couldn't comfort his sister. Gideon was keeping her locked at his side, away from her brother but not away from the show. The pair were seated up high on a makeshift platform in the front of the growing crowd. Plush chairs had been placed there and Dipper had to crane his neck to see Mabel's face. But she merely had to glance down to see his punishment. He only met her eyes once before feeling forced to look away. The brunet couldn't bare her expression. It was too broken.

In the back of his mind it amazed him that Gideon had made his punishment a public spectacle in such a short amount of time. Despite it being 10 or later at night, people still showed up. But before he could really think about that, he heard the clipping of boots approaching him. It wasn't that the sound of movement startled him, people were shouting and talking and shuffling here and there and everywhere.

It was the deliberate clicking of shoes entering the small ring that the Huntsmen had made around him. Cloaked men kept the crowed several feet back from the brunet. So when Dipper heard heavy boots approaching him, he immediately stiffened. His eyes fearfully widened and he craned his neck back behind him to see a tall, muscular figure wearing a Huntsman uniform and half mask. The man was tan and even in his own knelt position Dipper could tell the stranger was taller than him. He had rough stubble on his chin and thin, grim lips. In the masked man's hands was a whip. Somewhere in the brunet's mind, he recognized it as a cat o' nine tails whip. It had nine leather strands with hard knots tied at the ends. Made to tear into skin.

This heavy set, broad shouldered, overly muscular man was the one who was to whip him. It seemed like Gideon was really trying to kill him.

Immediately Dipper's mouth went unbearably dry and his throat closed. He thought he might have a panic attack. The orbs of firelight illuminating the courtyard overhead felt too hot on his skin. His clammy hands clenched the metal rings screwed to the pole like lifelines. Already his muscles tensed into knots and they only coiled tighter and tighter. He wanted to curl in on himself and disappear.

"Attention everyone. As you know, Dipper Pines has been charged with consulting with enemies of the crown." Gideon called out a bit too cheerfully, his voice booming over the crowd and everyone immediately fell silent. Voice amplification spells always had that effect. "He has been sentenced to 30 lashes. However, once this punishment had been dealt with, no one will speak of this crime again. His blood will have washed away all sins and he will be a new man. He will be my beloved cousin, and guest, and everyone will respect him." The king's voice was as smooth as silk. Or maybe oil. It left Dipper feeling dirty and tainted. From the corner of his eye he watched Mabel cringe. She was white as snow and not moving in her seat. Like a crystal statue.

She wouldn't look up from her lap. Dipper wanted her to look at him, to let her know he was ok. But then he heard the thumping of boots again. He saw a foreboding shadow cast over him. When had Gideon stopped talking?

Oh gods.. No. He wasn't ok.
This wasn't ok.
He wasn't ok at all.
His breathing hitched and his panic made his heartbeat fly.

"This is crazy! I didn't do anything wrong!" Dipper shouted, mouth tasting like bile. "This is all a misunderstanding! I'm innocent!" He yanked at the biting cords of rope latching his hands to the rings. He tugged as hard as he could but they wouldn't budge. He tried reciting quick transportation spells or release spells. They rattled and the ropes burned his wrists.
His magick was gone.
He was trapped. Bound. Stuck. Imprisoned. "He's lying! He's forcing us to stay here and-"

It felt like fire.
It cut off his words.
Like fire had slashed his back and he couldn't remember what he was saying.
Then it hit again.
And the whip ripped through his flesh.
Ripped through everything.
He thought that it touched his very bone.
Three more and he finally took a sharp intake of air and clenched his teeth to stop the screams. He tried to count them, but the 9 separate parts of the whip made that difficult.
And his skin was already getting soft and tender, hurting more with each stroke.
They came in thick even waves, drawing blood from his shoulders and his spine and his lower back. Even his calves weren't left untouched.

Stars filled his eyes, blood pooled down and stained his pants. A bit of drool dripped down his chin and mixed with snot and tears and blood from where his teeth had bit into his bottom lip to keep from screaming. But he couldn't stop screaming. His muscles convulsed and he clenched the metal of the hoops tighter and tighter. Until his fingers went numb, and his palms stung.

He had to hold onto something. Anything. An anchor. Or he would lose his mind. When he opened his eyes it was a blur of faces. Dipper thought some of them were smiling. Oh gods this was humiliating, and then it hurt too much to feel degraded. It hurt too much to feel much of anything.

Except alone.
Alone in consuming waves of pain and the cracking of the whip. There was nothing else. Just him, the whip, the ropes, and…. Bill?

"Kid.. Kid look at me." Dipper's eyes cracked open and he was surprised by the fact that the whip had stopped. He felt the blonde's hands cup over his own. They gently untangled his aching fingers from the rope and interlaced them with his own. "It's going to be ok." Bill reasoned. His arms were wrapped around the pole on the other side, so that they were both hugged around the wood together. The blonde's wrists brushed the hoops along with Dipper's, and he pressed his cheek to the pole so he could hold the brunet's eyes. "Just keep looking at me." He whispered, a lot gentler than he had ever talked to Dipper before.
Maybe gentler than he had talked to anyone before.

"Ya know you smell great right now Pinetree. Your suffering is tangible." Bill cracked a small smile, trying to make Dipper laugh, but it didn't work.

"Is… it over…?" The gypsy managed to wheeze out. His throat was raw, and his back raged like an awful sunburn.

The grim look that crossed the blonde's features made a whimper escape Dipper's throat. He gave a light shake of his head and flicked his golden bangs from his shining eyes "No.. you're at ten. He's taking a water break. The bastards will draw this out for as long as they can."

Dipper felt like he was going to pass out already and he still had 20 more. He wanted to pass out. "I can't do this.. I can't.. I can't.." The brunet whimpered, tears filling his eyes even more just as he heard the man's awful boots again. He was panicking, breath ragged. He wasn't getting enough oxygen. Couldn't anyone see that he wasn't strong enough for this? They tapped on the stone and he heard the whip shake out again. "I-I..I.."

Then a snap and a scream. He arched his back against the pole and he thought he might lose himself again. But then he heard Bill.. he felt his strong hands.. He felt the strange, foreign comfort of it all.

"Pinetree.. Breathe. Just breathe. It's ok kid. You've got this." At that Dipper took a soft breath, and opened his eyes. He held Bill's hands tighter, and he didn't look away from the blonde's face.

Words like that came one after another.
A stinging, hot iron pain, then words of comfort.
He sobbed and begged for it to stop.
But somehow he didn't lose himself.
He didn't drown.
His back felt like a raw slab of meat, but emotionally he didn't break.
His muscles convulsed and his teeth wouldn't stop chattering.
But Bill's golden, strong eyes and honey laced sentences kept Dipper grounded.

Finally, blissfully, he heard the boots stride away. The brunet heard Gideon say some closing words. He felt Bill's hands disappear, though he didn't see him go.
When Bill's hands were gone, Dipper stretched his fingers just a bit into the open space and hoped for them again. But there was nothing but air.
Then it was an array of color. All of his senses were too overwhelmed to really take in anything new.

Somewhere far away Mabel was sobbing. Pacifica was cursing. He was moving. Gods he wished he would stop moving, it just hurt more.
Everything hurt. Everything was red. Everything was hot. Too hot.

He felt his body laid down on his stomach on something soft. Then he faded out. Everything was blissfully black.

"Kid.. you need to wake up."

"Pinetree. Wake up."

"I said wake the fuck up!"

A monster charged at him and Dipper jolted. His eyes snapped open and he went to sit up off his stomach, only to stop and hiss in agony. For a moment he laid there, blinking and groaning and trying to remember what the hell happened.

"Good. You're awake." Bill sighed, and the brunet blinked even more, only to finally put it all together.

The boots. The whip. The punishment. The screaming.

"What… are you doing here?" His voice cracked and he winced at the awful sound of it. He felt the blonde press a cup to his chapped lips. Though it spilt a little down his jaw, drinking while lying flat on your stomach wasn't easy, he drank grateful big gulps.

"You're lucky I burned that letter for you. You were all 'Oh my god don't burn my love letter!~' then I did and you were all 'Bill you're such a bastard!', but it turns out I'm not much of a bastard am I?" Bill mocked, a smirk on his lips as he sat the cup aside on the nightstand beside him. He made Dipper's voice high and squeaky, which made the brunet pout a little bit. If it weren't for the burning pain in his back, he might have retaliated, but he was too tired for that.

"Thank you.. for burning the letter. I would have probably been even more screwed if you hadn't." Dipper agreed softly "But why are you here?" He tried to move the pillow to ease the ache on his neck, but only grimaced. Moving his arms or body at all burned. Then, surprisingly, he watched Bill step closer and tug the pillow into a more pleasing position. The older enchanter even fluffed it a little for him. Dipper blushed a little at the close proximity, and a lot at how gentle Bill was being. It was unusual.

"Indulging in your suffering of course." The blonde stated with a small smirk, obviously still trying to dodge the grave seriousness of everything. Dipper was in the emergency medical ward. His body was stretched out on a white bed with blood stained sheets. It was a small private room. IVs were stuck in his left arm, though he couldn't do more than feel them, and he was a bit grossed out at that. A heart monitor beeped on that side as well, but he didn't even try to move his neck. It hurt too much to even blink.

Slowly he became aware of someone holding his right hand and he noticed that Mabel was asleep with her head on the bed near his hip. Her hair spilled out over his arm. She was drooling on his palm, but he didn't try to pull away. Bill stood to the side of her, between her chair and the nightstand. Dipper gently shook her, groaning at the movement but not stopping "Mabel.. I'm ok.." He could tell she had been crying. Her eyes and nose were puffy and red. The male twin wanted her to open her eyes so he could make sure she was alright.

"She won't wake up. I knocked her and Blondie out." Bill informed seriously, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. Looking back beyond Bill, the gypsy boy frowned when he saw Pacifica slumped back in a waiting chair against the wall, out cold. "Blondie did all she could for you, but you were about to die." He shifted and leaned over Dipper. Though the brunet couldn't see what he was doing, he felt a sudden relief to his inflamed skin. A soft blue glow came from whatever magick Bill was performing. The brunet relaxed a little.

"So you saved me?"

"Don't act so surprised. I have to do what's in my benefit. Your suffering is my meal ticket. And your death takes that away." Bill responded flippantly, trying to brush off the brunet's surprise and gratitude. It wasn't working.

Somehow the Pines teen thought it was more than that. Obviously he was stable now, and Bill was still healing him "If you're indulging in my suffering, why are you easing it..?" Dipper asked after a few long minutes of Bill quietly working. "And why did you show up in the courtyard? Just to devour my pain? If that's the case you didn't have to hold my hands." Though he didn't want to relive what just happened, he wanted to understand this new turn of events. Bill had come there and comforted him. That was obvious.

Bill's voice was a bit strained and Dipper couldn't see his face. He was hovered over the brunet's mutilated back, Dipper could only watch his hips and legs "Look. The suffering I inflict is necessary for my survival. I enjoy it, but I wouldn't if I didn't have to. I hate unnecessary suffering. It's just utterly worthless. What happened out in that courtyard was completely avoidable, and ridiculous." His voice was a tight controlled rage, barely above a whisper but completely overwhelming.

So this man actually did have feelings beyond what he usually showed. What Bill said sent Dipper into silence. He tried to piece it together with what he already understood. The suffering being necessary for his survival had to do with him having to feed on it. Just because he needed it didn't mean that Bill enjoyed it. However, Dipper had always thought the blonde liked it from the way he behaved, but now he wasn't so sure. And if Bill had a mistress then she could technically force him to do things too, if he was bound to her. But this was all speculation. Speculation that made his temples throb.

"It's best if you don't think too much about it." Bill said suddenly, and he bent down, his hands still on Dipper's back, as he met the brunet's eyes "Even if you figure it out, it won't help you. And it won't help me."

"Why are you healing me?"

"Like I already said. You're my meal ticket. If anyone's going to kill you, it will be me. But for now there's no need for you to die." The blonde looked away and back at his work, sweat dripped down his neck and his jaw was clenched tight.

"Gideon wouldn't think that what happened was unnecessary." If Dipper didn't know any better, he would think Bill was in pain. But that was ridiculous, why would he be hurting?

"Gideon is an idiot. A cruel bastard. And that's saying a lot if I think that." Bill responded quickly, tracing his fingers across Dipper's bare shoulders. It was like a blissful trail of ice.

"You're just as cruel as he is. Considering the deal you accepted from him." A bit of Dipper's annoyance seeped out at that, and he felt Bill's hands hesitate against his skin.

Bill tilted his head down and he meet Dipper's eyes with a fake, too wide of a smile. His breath brushed Dipper's lips as he spoke, and the brunet caught the scent of mint "A deal is a deal. I don't ask questions, I don't care why I do whatever my customer wants me to do. I just care about what I get in return. I'm not the one who wanted to kill Gideon's parents. He was. Is a sword the demon for running a child through? No. The swordsman is. I'm no demon. I'm just a weapon. Or a powerhouse. Or a wish granter. Or even sometimes a sex toy. I do the things people are either too scared to do or too weak or too pathetic." He held Dipper's eyes through the entire statement. His words sent a chill down the brunet's spine.

It was the most Dipper had ever heard Bill talk. Maybe he was saying it because that information didn't really matter. Or maybe he was just feeling open that day. Either way Dipper nodded a little "You're right." From what Dipper understood, and was piecing together, Bill was evil by circumstance. Still dangerous, still an asshole, and still a bit unhinged. But mostly because of the curse he was under, whatever exactly that meant.

Bill stood up straight again, and went back to work. They were silent for a long while. Finally the blonde took a small step away. The pain in the brunet's back was almost completely gone. "You'll feel weak. You'll scar. And if you move too much the scabs will rip open." A business tone took over the Bill's voice, but Dipper didn't care about what he was saying. His mind couldn't stop whirling around about this new side of Bill he felt like he was discovering.

With a small shake of his hand, Dipper removed it from his sister's and rubbed the drool off on the blood stained sheets. She snorted a snore but didn't wake up. It was the most peaceful sleep he had seen her in in a long time, probably because Bill was here and not tormenting her with nightmares. Before he could ask the blond another question, his eyes caught the scarlet staining the white cuffs of Bill's shirt. "Are you alright?"

A pained expression caused Bill to grimace and he rubbed his right wrist, staring down at the blood flowering the once pristine cloth. He was only in his white button up shirt and black dress pants, his gloves were laying on the nightstand beside him. "Mistress doesn't like it when I do anything for free." He said it as if in a dream, and the brunet didn't know if that statement was even directed towards him. As he said that, Dipper watched Bill's body double over a bit and a scarlet light erupted from his neck. It was like a light had sliced the skin along his jugular. Completely around his collar. As if a thin cord had curled around there and dug in too tight. Bill gagged and blood seeped down his throat across his chest.

"Why doesn't she like it? What's going on?" Dipper panicked a little. He didn't like Bill. Bill wasn't a good person. He was cruel, an asshole, but… this wasn't alright.

"D-Don't.. ask.." Bill whispered, as he sank down on his knees. His one arm hugged his stomach while his other hand clutched the side of Dipper's bed, steadying himself. The blood kept dripping down his neck and stained his wrists more and more. His blond hair hung in his face, and he was taking short, shaky breaths. "Just.. don't." A bit of smoke came off his body as he tried to perform a transportation spell, but it failed. "F-Fuck me.." He growled.

Dipper never thought he would see Bill this.. unraveled. And in a way he felt like it was his fault. If Mistress didn't like Bill to do anything for free, then the blonde had just broken that rule. He didn't ask for anything when he healed Dipper. Hell, he didn't even ask if he could heal the brunet. He just did it.

The young gypsy reached down and gently pushed up Bill's shirt sleeve. The blonde's eyes immediately snapped open and glared harshly at him. His jaw was clenched and teeth barred. Even so, he didn't move to stop Dipper. Whether he was in too much pain or too confused to do so, the younger teen didn't know. Using only one hand, Dipper held the shirt sleeve just enough to move it out of the way. From where he lay he studied Bill's wrist curiously. On the skin, glowing red, was what looked like a tattoo of a shackle going around the blonde's entire wrist. The edges of the shackle were dripping bright scarlet blood, and the entire thing glowed like an angry fire. It was a curse mark. Dipper was sure of it. That was why Bill always wore long sleeves and gloves.

"Don't… ask…." Bill ground out slowly through harsh breaths and clenched teeth.

"You're bound to someone aren't you?"

"Don't.. ask…" He stated again, doubling over even more and a small grunt of pain hit him as another spurt of blood came from his neck. Bill's knuckles on the bed sheets were white "I.. Have.. to get out of here…. And ask… her forgiveness…" Dipper wasn't sure if that comment was directed towards him either. The older enchanter's body flickered as he tried to transport again, but he still couldn't seem to do it.

The gypsy clenched his hands as he hung over the bed to stare down at Bill, worried and biting his bottom lip in thought. Then he felt the ring on his finger. Half the time he forgot it was there. It was just a thin silver band with a ruby cut in a square on it. Mabel had picked it out from the jewelry box in his room. She said it went with everything and was 'him'. That if they were to live here, they might as well do what royals do and wear expensive jewelry.

Quickly Dipper slipped it off his finger and held it down in Bill's face "Here. Take this. Now you didn't heal me for free." He felt Bill's hot ragged breath on his hand, and he winced as the movement jarred his back.

For a moment he thought Bill wouldn't accept it. That maybe it wouldn't be enough. But then he felt Bill's fingers that had been clutched to the bed shift and they curled around his hand and the ring. Blood, Bill's blood, smeared across his palm. The warm metal slipped from his grasp and Bill slowly stood up. He stumbled a little, and his body was trembling, but he stood up straight. As if nothing had happened.

The blonde faced Dipper's bed, where he was still partially hanging off of it. His hair was disheveled, the collar of his shirt was scarlet, as were his cuffs. There was even a bit of blood making his shirt stick to his lean figure. But he didn't try to wipe up the blood. Instead, he stared at Dipper with guarded golden eyes. After a moment he gave Dipper a small nod. Obviously the brunet had witnessed something he shouldn't have. Put more pieces of the puzzle 'Bill' together than he was supposed to.

"You literally can't do anything for free.." Dipper stated softly, and Bill's nose wrinkled in an even more disapproving glare.

"Don't. Ask."

"You can't talk about it at all."

"What part of 'don't ask' don't you get?" The cursed boy ran a hand through his hair and snatched his gloves off the nightstand "I swear Pinetree if you tell anyone. Anything. I will kill you." He threatened, but for some reason it didn't feel quite as forceful.

Then his body started to fade out. Immediately Dipper panicked "Bill! Before you go! I want to make that deal! I want to give you my-"

"Not now Pinetree.." His voice echoed a little as he still slowly disappeared, obviously not having enough energy for a much quicker, more dramatic exit.

"But-"

"Not now."

Then he was gone.

A small groan escaped Dipper as he relaxed back into the bed. He didn't have long to regret letting Bill get away before they could make a deal. Or worry about everything he learned. Exhaustion suddenly crept up on him, and he was out like a light.

That night, for the first time in about three months, he didn't have nightmares.