Jack doesn't want to wake.
Dreamsand-laced sleep is so pleasant, but when Jack finally, reluctantly opens his eyes, Pitch is sitting on the side of the bed smiling down at him.
Worth waking up for, Jack thinks, and smiles back.
"Good morning," Pitch says, leaning down to kiss Jack gently. It's a good start to the day, and Jack gives a small, dissatisfied noise when Pitch pulls away.
It's been three days since Jack's choice and he has been sleeping in Pitch's room since. Waking with a warm body pressed against his own is Jack's new favourite experience.
Today though Pitch is already dressed in a high-collared tunic and trousers - tight trousers, Jack sees, that display his thighs nicely. He reaches out a hand to touch and Pitch gently pushes his hand away.
"None of that. I have to go and meet with my councillors before we leave for Iscadin," Pitch says, stroking Jack's hair absentmindedly. The trip is to meet some ambassadors from Cocor, the country to the east of Umbra. Apparently they come to Iscadin once or twice a year, make preposterous demands, and then leave again, making shallow threats of war. Nothing ever happens, and it sounds like a waste of everyone's time.
"Isn't there even a little time to have some fun?"
"No, or at least not right now. You slept late, Jack."
"You let me sleep late," Jack mutters, slightly petulant, and Pitch throws him an amused smile.
"Oh, my apologies." He stands and offers his hand to Jack, pulling him to his feet. Jack steps closer, and pushes onto tiptoes to kiss Pitch, his hands curling into Pitch's robe to help him balance. Pitch's arms circle his waist and for a moment he lets Jack provide a pleasant diversion.
When he pulls away Jack is tempted to pull him back but he doesn't want to test his luck, not today when he is finally going to see some of the Umbran countryside. "You're very distracting," Pitch murmurs, leaning in to kiss Jack's forehead, like he can't help himself. Jack's glad that hasn't changed with his acceptance of the courtesan role. It had crossed his mind that perhaps Pitch's prior affection had been nothing more than an attempt convince him to stay, but it's as much in evidence as ever.
"I'm fairly sure that's my job," Jack says with a grin.
"True," Pitch says. "And now I must do mine. Amber is waiting in the dressing room. Would you be happy if Onyx came with me, or would you prefer her to stay?"
"Whichever," Jack says, shrugging. "I trust Amber. And when your meeting is over, we leave, right?"
"Eager, aren't you?"
"Of course I am. I've been looking forward to this. I'm going to get to see the city properly, and the river-" He stops, realising how overexcited he sounds, and gives a slightly embarrassed grin.
"I'll do everything I can to make sure that the journey's as good as you hope," Pitch says, and steps back. He says his farewells, with another kiss when he can't stop himself, and leaves.
Jack sighs and stretches before pulling on the nearest bed robe. Pitch's. It's too long for him, and as he goes into the dressing room an excess of black silk trails behind him like stalking shadows.
Amber is facing away from Jack, sorting through a rail of clothes. Her hair is pulled into a high knot and the back of her dress dips low between her shoulder blades, sky blue and gold edging that form a frame for long silvery scars barely visible on her milky skin. Jack gazes at them, feeling a pang of sorrow that she's been hurt so, and hoping ferociously that it wasn't caused by someone from Lunanoff.
"Good morning," he says, and she looks over her shoulder. Her eye, too, Jack thinks - he's so used to seeing the patch now that he thinks of it more as a fashion accessory than an injury, but the thought that someone he knows might have done that to her sits heavy and sour in his stomach. But then she smiles, warm and bright, and it makes Jack's worries clear like morning fog in the midday sun.
"Good morning," she says, picks up a pile of carefully-folded clothes. As she hands them over, she raises an eyebrow and touches his neck, just below his jawline. "You look like you had fun last night."
Jack glances over at the mirror to see what she means. Last night Pitch paid much attention to his neck and shoulder, sucking and biting. He's left evidence in the form of reddish bruises. Grinning and blushing at the same time, Jack touches them. He likes it, a reminder of Pitch's desire for him.
Last night had been fun; he tried to pleasure Pitch with his mouth for the first time, fumbling and awkward and as uncertain as he's ever been, but Pitch seemed to like it well enough and the remembered taste of his come makes Jack bite his lip.
"I'll go and wash, and get dressed," he says. "You're not going to be bored?"
"Not at all. I'll amuse myself wondering what you and the king got up to last night." And that's where Onyx would have interrupted, horrified at Amber's forthrightness. But since she isn't here, Jack's blush deepens and he shakes his head.
"Is that not treason or something? Thinking about the king like that - and his courtesan, for that matter."
"Since he knows that you're not my type, I'm fairly sure it would only appeal to his pride," she says and pats his arm. "Take your time, Jack."
By the time Jack has bathed his hunger is making itself known and he dresses quickly. Navy trews go under a grey-blue robe, open at either side. The belt is embroidered in a silver pattern that echoes his markings. As he looks at his reflection, he decides to do something for Amber. She puts so much effort into making his clothes, but she's far more than just a dresser. Every time that Jack has felt helpless or confused, she has helped him untangle his thoughts and find his calm. She's a true friend. Perhaps when he's learned to use his magic a little, he can make her something from ice.
It shouldn't be long now until his lessons start, and a thrill of excitement skipping through Jack at the thought. Jethryn is researching how best to dim the binding in the collar, and then the teaching can begin.
Back in the dressing room, Amber adjusts his robe and the tie of the belt, and then he's allowed to break his fast.
"Do you have any recommendations for what to see in Iscadin?" Jack asks between bites
of pastry.
"Hmm," Amber says, and ticks the points off on her fingers. "The waterfront at sunset. The harbour during the day, when it's busy - the best place for people watching. Though I doubt the king would let you do that. The royal residence is beautiful as well. If you're going to be there on your own while Pitch is in meetings, have a look around."
The thought of being locked up in yet another room quells his enthusiasm a little. "I'm sure it's beautiful but I'm much more interested in the city. I want to get out and see things, you know?"
Amber looks thoughtful for a moment and then smiles. "Why don't I have a word with the king? I'll be going down there to dress the two of you, and since all my equipment is up here, I won't have much to do during the day. We can go exploring together."
Jack's eyes widen and hope fills him. "Do you think he'll say yes?"
"It's worth a shot, don't you think?"
Jack spends the entire journey to Iscadin staring out of the carriage at the passing scenery. With Pitch's hand over his shoulders and his warmth by his side, he makes the occasional comment about a passing feature but other than that they sit together and watch the world go by.
From Lunanoff, the world is beautiful but so distant that everything looks the same, green lands and blue seas.
Now Jack looks out at the changing landscapes with awe. Even just this hour long journey to the city reveals meadows and forests, green hills, farmlands golden with ripe corn.
He wants to get out of the carriage and explore all of these wonders, but there'll be time enough for that later. This is home now, Jack thinks with a smile. He has his whole life to explore, if Pitch lets him.
"Did Amber ask if she could take me out into the city today?" Jack asks, tearing his gaze away from the view. Pitch's eyes are as golden as the cornfields, and he smiles down at Jack.
"She did. I said yes."
Delight shimmers through Jack and he kisses Pitch. "Thank you." That had been worrying him. If Pitch hadn't let him go out with Amber, who he obviously trusts, that would be telling of his chances at further freedoms.
Slowly more houses appear as the farmland shifts to city. In the distance, the city looks like a forest, stone and slate replacing leaf and bark.
The carriage skirts the edge of the city, and approaches a tall stone wall with large black gates that are manned by guards in armour more ornate than any Jack has seen in the palace. As they pass through the gates, Jack gets his first glimpse of the royal residence. It's a huge house – probably as large as the palace in Lunanoff – with many windows that glint in the sun.
The carriage comes to a stop before the house and Pitch helps Jack down. He looks around curiously. There is a manicured garden with shaped bushes and cut grass. It is much more organised that the palace gardens; tamer. It's a little disappointing; Jack likes that touch of wildness.
Stone stairs leading up to the main doors are cool under his feet, and as they step inside, Alden is waiting for them. He bows to the king and then smiles at Jack before speaking. "The carriage is waiting to take us to the city hall, Pitch," he says. "We should go over the final details of the meeting on the way."
Annoyance flickers over Pitch's face but he nods. "I'll be down in a few moments," he says, before leading Jack up a set of dark wooden stairs. At the top there is a long corridor; a lone guard waits outside one of the doors. He has slightly different armour to that of the guards in the palace. It's darker and plainer, and his cloak is lined with grey rather than gold. He also doesn't wear a helmet, and Jack can see that the man is older, lowborn, with close-cropped white hair and brown eyes that look at Jack coolly.
"This is Dannel," Pitch says. "He's been the captain of the guard here since I was a boy. If you need anything, just ask him."
Jack smiles up at Dannel. "Good morning," he says, and receives a curt nod in return.
"I'm at your service, courtesan."
Jack opens his mouth to say call me Jack but thinks better of it. Dannel doesn't seem very friendly. Or perhaps he's just proper, as all the guards seem to be. Not a one of them has so much as spoken to Jack so far, so even Dannel's flat reply is an improvement.
Pitch pushes open the door and ushers Jack in to a living room. It's sparsely decorated even for Umbra, only a pair of armchairs and a large bookcase. Jack guesses that Pitch doesn't stay here often, considering his ability to travel through the shadows. Still, Jack's grateful for the offer to stay here tonight. He wants to see as much of Umbra as possible - and to enjoy nights with Pitch in many places, too.
"How many royal residences are there?" Jack asks, turning to Pitch.
"Five."
"Can we stay in them all?"
"If you wish," Pitch says, and looks at Jack curiously. "What's your sudden interest?"
Jack grins and goes over to Pitch, resting a hand on his chest. "Oh, nothing, really. I was just thinking that you could pleasure me in each of them."
Pitch gives a startled laugh and pulls Jack to him. "You have the most wonderful ideas," he says, and kisses him, a hand curling in Jack's hair. Pitch presses his tongue into Jack's mouth, lapping against his, and slides a hand under the slit in Jack's robe to roam over his skin, exploring, and Jack moans as his fingers brush over his nipples.
They're interrupted by a knock at the door and Pitch pulls away with a sigh.
"Alden growing impatient, no doubt." He pulls Jack's robe back into place. "Amber should be here shortly in any case." He leans in to give Jack a gentle kiss and then steps back. "Have a good day."
"You too."
"Doubtful," Pitch says with a sigh and then leaves Jack to wait for Amber.
Jack barely has time to look out of the window before she arrives. She wears a cloak over her dress and has a bundle of clothes in her arms.
"Here," Amber says when Jack lets her in. She slips a tunic over his robe. It's long sleeves cover his markings. She fastens it with a soft leather belt and then pulls a hood over his hair, fastening it in place with a twisted circlet of silver. "There we go. Now no-one will know who you are."
"Are we leaving the carriage?"
"I convinced the king to agree to lunch by the river. I did mention walking around the city, but he said it was too dangerous. He's probably right."
Jack tries to push aside his disappointment. He hadn't really expected to see the city on foot - he hadn't expected to leave the carriage at all, so this is still a pleasant surprise.
"Do you think he'll ever let me walk around the city?"
"I'm sure he will at some point, though probably only when he's with you. The Lord of Shadows can offer a lot more protection than a dressmaker and a single guard."
"I'm pretty sure you could do a good job of protecting me - and there's a lot more to you than just being a dressmaker."
She beams at him and pats his arm. "Ah, you know me too well, Jack. I'm starting to think I should worry about that."
Dannel joins them as they head down to the carriage. Jack's slightly deflated to know that he'll be coming with them, but he pushes it away. The guard is just doing his job.
As the carriage sets off, Jack watches the world pass by until they pull up at a wooden gate. Dannel picks up the picnic basket and Jack tries not to laugh; a fully armoured guard carrying a picnic basket is a little ridiculous. Amber links her arm with his and they follow Dannel through the gate, and down a staircase cut into a hillside. Tall trees on all sides block the view, but when they come back out into the sunlight, Jack stares.
The river is wide, sparkling in the sunlight. To the left it disappears around a bend, but to his right it stretches into the distance until a bridge at the city's edge blocks it from sight. Jack walks closer to the edge and gazes down at the water, shining sliver as it flows by. If the lake in the palace gardens has more water than he had ever imagined, this is almost beyond belief.
"How can there not be enough water for everyone?"
"The river flows from Selena," Amber says, joining him. "It's tainted. There's a lot of water but so little of it is safe to drink. If there was a way to purify it..." She trails off and sighs. "But no-one's found a way."
"There must be a way," he says. "With magic, or something."
"This isn't Lunanoff, Jack. Mages are rare here, and almost all of them are shadow mages, nothing that would help. And nothing like this has ever happened before; there are no spells to purify this kind of tainting." She puts a hand on his back. "But it's fading, slowly. Now we're able to offer some of our water - and you helped with that treaty. Even if it's not something you chose, you should still be proud of that."
"I guess," he says, and sighs, feeling dissatisfied with the answer, even though he knows it must be true. People wiser and more learned than him have been trying for centuries to solve the problem of the tainted water to no avail.
Amber leads him away from the water's edge. She lays out the lunch, cheese and meat and fresh bread, on a large blanket, and as Jack sits down to eat, he can't look away from the view. On the far side a small boat passes, its sole occupant looking over at them in disinterest. The trees on all side are bright and vibrant, and the playful wind makes the leaves look like a crackling fire. Soon they will fall and the branches will be dark skeleton fingers reaching up to winter skies. As much as Jack's looking forward to snow and ice, he feels a little sad at the thought of the world losing such beauty.
"Do you want a cloak?" Amber asks, pulling her own around her a little more tightly. "It's getting chilly."
"I'm fine," Jack says. If anything, he's a little too warm in the long sleeves.
"It could be because you're an ice mage. Maybe you won't need any of the cloaks I've designed for you," she says with a sigh. "I've been working on this one, gorgeous black velvet lined with silver, and I was going to embroider so that it looks like it's covered with frost."
"I could still wear it, even if I don't need it," Jack says and then grins at her. "Maybe I could wear it with nothing underneath."
She laughs and claps her hands in delight. "Oh Jack! Pitch will love that! I hope he appreciates his courtesan's genius."
"I think he will when he sees it."
They eat and chat, Dannel standing uncomfortably behind them, shaking his head stoically when Amber offers him some food.
"I used to come here with Onyx," Amber says. "Back when I first started working for the king. When the weather was nice, we'd walk hand in hand into the city along the river."
"You don't do that anymore?"
She shakes her head. "She's first in line to the throne now - third, officially, but..." She trails off. "Things are more complicated now. And it's not exactly a romantic walk when you have guards trailing behind you."
After lunch, they head into Iscadin. The carriage stays on the main streets, the wheels clattering on the wide, cobbled roads. Just as Jack saw from the city hall, there are people everywhere.
"He's from Sinar," Amber says, pointing at a man with feathers edging his cloak.
"Strictly speaking, people aren't supposed to leave Sinar – they view it as the greatest country in the world, so why would you want to leave?"
"What would happen if he was caught?"
"By us? He'd be questioned. As long as he co-operated he'd be fine. But if the Sinarans caught him, who knows? They're so secretive. From the rumours, though, I don't think it would be good."
"So why does he do it?"
"Money speaks loudly," Amber says with a shrug. "Many people here will buy whatever he's brought to trade – furs, minerals, artwork. And the cheapest of goods from Umbra are worth a fortune on the Sinaran black market."
Jack doesn't really understand. There's nothing like that in Lunanoff – or at least not that he knows of, but as he has been realising of late, that means little.
"Oh and they're from Althell." Amber points at a group of tall people with pale gold hair and long white cloaks covered in embroidery. "The first snows will have already come, and this is probably their last chance to trade before the seas start to freeze."
"Wait- the sea freezes?"
"Near the poles. Althell is an island, a few hundred miles northwest of Umbra. It must be so cold there in winter, but they have all kinds of ways the cope with it. Like those cloaks: they look light, but those sigils are part of a spell. No matter how cold it is, the cloak will keep them warm."
And so it goes: Amber points out people and tells him where they're from based on their clothes, but more often than not, his geographical knowledge fails him. He wishes he had a map so that he could work out where everyone is from.
They pass a group of Umbran sailors in smart black uniforms, more of them lowborn than highborn.
"Umbra has the most powerful navy in the world," Amber says. "And the nicest uniforms. Let me tell you, the king looks especially - regal - in his general's uniform."
Jack laughs. "Now why do I get the feeling that when you say regal, you mean something else?"
"What can I say? The king and Onyx have a family resemblance. It makes sense that I appreciate him - purely aesthetically, of course. I enjoy looking at Pitch in his uniform; I enjoy getting Onyx out of hers."
Jack laughs harder, and when he sees Dannel's expression he laughs so hard he starts to cough.
The carriage goes past the library, a large pale building lined with elegant columns. As they pass the city hall, Amber points out the statue of Pitch. Only when Jack squints at it does he see a resemblance. Pitch said that the statues look more handsome, but Jack far prefers the real thing.
The sky is growing dark by the time they return to the royal residence. Pitch still hasn't returned, so Jack joins Amber in her rooms for dinner before retiring.
When he's alone, he goes to his travelling trunk and withdraws a book.
He asked Monty for this the day after he'd made his decision, and he thought that Monty would never stop blushing. It's my duty as a courtesan, Jack had said, though that had only served to add a stammer to the blush.
It is a book for courtesans, just as the other books that Monty has provided, but this one is far more explicit. It is a manual for pleasure, fully illustrated. It covers everything Jack has thought of, and things he's never even imagined. He's fascinated by it.
He opens it to the section about the different ways to give pleasure with the mouth. It lists many techniques, but Jack decides to concentrate on the simplest. It is what he tried the night before, and he can only improve with practice. As he looks at the pictures he feels his body starting to respond and his mind wanders, imagining doing it to Pitch, remembering the night before. Nerves accosted him then, but tonight he can do better, he's sure of it.
A slamming door startles him out of his thoughts. He waits, but no-one comes into the room. Putting the book down on the table, he goes to investigate.
Opening the door, he hears a low thumping from one of the rooms below.
"What is that?" Jack asks, glancing at Dannel, standing guard on the corridor.
"The king. I don't think the discussions went well."
"I'm going to go see him," Jack says, and shrugs off Dannel's protests.
Following the sounds, Jack finds his way to a room on the ground floor and opens the door. It's a training room, and Pitch is throwing punches at a heavy leather bag hanging from the ceiling. He has cast off his robe and is topless, wearing only the tight black trews. Completely focused, he hasn't noticed Jack in the doorway, so Jack leans against the jamb and watches.
Pitch is fast and agile, strong and skilled. His punches are focused jabs, seeming to hit exactly where he means them to. He would be a fierce opponent, Jack thinks, and he is obviously angry, taking out his rage on the punching bag. Jack is startled when the room starts to get darker, and for the first time wonders if it's a good idea to spy on Pitch. He doesn't declare himself immediately, instead watching as Pitch's frown deepens and the room lightens again as he reclaims control over the shadows. He focuses on the bag, hitting again and again, and his skin is covered with a sheen of sweat. Jack swallows. Already half-hard from looking at the manual, seeing Pitch train is most appealing.
Before Jack can call out, Pitch notices him and grabs the swinging bag, holding it still and breathing heavily. Pitch just looks at him and Jack steps into the room, grabbing a towel from a table.
"I'm guessing things didn't go so well," Jack says, starting to wipe Pitch down, though he can't help but let his fingers trail over the muscles of Pitch's arms and stomach.
"They did not," Pitch says, moving to pick up his robe where it lies in a heap at the side of the room. "I thought I should work off a little of my anger before coming to see you."
"Do you want to talk about it? I probably won't know anything you're talking about but I'm happy to listen."
Pitch kisses Jack softly. "Thank you but no. It'll only anger me again. I'm going to bathe."
"Can I come with you?"
Pausing, Pitch smiles. "Most certainly."
The bath is a smaller version of the one in Pitch's rooms at the palace, though still easily large enough for the two of them. Tiny flowers float on the surface – lavender, Jack thinks. There are no servants, as is PItch's preference, so they wash each other; and if Jack's hands linger a little too long on Pitch's cock there are no complaints.
Since Pitch doesn't want to talk about his day, Jack talks about his. As Pitch listens, he seems to relax. The tension in his shoulders eases and he smiles when Jack mentions lunch by the river.
"My father used to take me sailing on the river when I was a boy. I always tried to help. I was never terribly good at it but it made me feel very grown up."
"I'd love to go sailing," Jack says with a sigh, and Pitch kisses his temple.
"Then we will."
When they are both dry and wrapped in fresh bed robes, they return to the living room. Only when Pitch pauses, looking down at the table, does Jack realise that he left the book out. He covers his embarrassment with a grin. "I thought since I wasn't too good last night, I better study."
"Not too good?" Pitch shakes his head and walks over to Jack, taking both hands in his own. "Jack, let me assure you, it was good, very good. Though it's very nice to see that you want to please me so much that you're willing to study for me."
"Some things are worth studying for," Jack says with a shrug as nonchalant as he can make it, and pulls Pitch away from the book. "Maybe I can practice?"
"I would be happy to help with your studies, Jack," Pitch says with a smirk and kisses Jack, far too soft and sweet for the way he also slides a hand under Jack's robe and brushes long fingers over his cock. "Perhaps I could also advise you?"
The thought of Pitch instructing him makes Jack's mouth dry and he nods wordlessly.
Smirking, Pitch shrugs off his robe and sits in the nearest chair. He beckons Jack over, grabs the collar of his robe and pulls him in for a kiss.
"On your knees."
Part of Jack wants to say I know that much but most of him just want to do anything Pitch asks of him. He sinks down to his knees between Pitch's legs. He watches as Pitch strokes himself into hardness. His cock is so much bigger than Jack's own. Thicker too, with a slight curve upwards. Watching takes Jack the rest of the way to hard, but he doesn't touch himself. He wants to take care of Pitch first. Touching himself will only distract himself from that.
Fully hard now, Pitch wraps a hand around the base of his cock, pulling the foreskin back, and gestures at it. "Start by licking."
Leaning forward to do as he's told, Jack's heart hammers in his chest. He slides his tongue across the head of Pitch's cock, the scent of the lavender from their bath filling his nose.
"That's good, Jack," Pitch says as Jack continues to lick, confidence growing with every second. Being told what to do helps - he doesn't need to worry about doing the wrong thing. "And the shaft. Top to bottom. Get me nice and wet." Pitch sighs and Jack's cock aches. He ignores it. "Now lick your lips - that's right - and take the head in your mouth. Lick it, slide your lips over it – that's it. That lip ring is so cold – gods it feels good." He's starting to breathe heavily now, and he gives a choked moan when Jack looks up at him with a mouthful of cock. Thinking back to what Pitch has done in the past, he slides his tongue over the slit. That makes Pitch curse, in a good way, and he lets his head fall back, mouth open as he breathes heavily. His reactions are very encouraging, and Jack lifts a hand to hold Pitch's cock, on top of where Pitch is holding it, and strokes as he works.
"Now try - try and take a little more into your mouth," Pitch says in a shaking voice. "As much as you can."
Licking his lips, Jack does, going slowly and breathing through his nose. When it hits the back of his throat he winces and pulls back, gasping.
"A little too much?" Pitch asks, stroking Jack's hair.
"Uh huh," Jack says, wiping at his watering eyes.
"If you want to stop-"
"No! Not at all! I'm so hard, just from doing this to you. I definitely don't want to stop."
Leaning in again he goes more slowly this time, taking another inch in his mouth before pulling away, then taking another inch. This time he stops before it hits the back of his throat, bobbing his head like Pitch does when he uses his mouth on Jack. Pitch becomes more and more vocal, making Jack's own cock throb. His hand clenches in Jack's hair, not directing, just holding, like he needs the extra contact.
And then Pitch comes with a cry, spilling onto Jack's tongue. He's still not sure he likes the taste but it's proof of his success and he laps at it hungrily, swallowing down every drop.
As Pitch catches his breath, the hand in Jack's hair unclenches and starts to stroke instead. Jack smiles, feeling accomplished.
"Come here," Pitch murmurs, shifting in the chair and beckoning Jack to him. Jack stands and lets Pitch pull him into his lap. It means that they are close, very close, and Jack smiles. He's still hard and part of him is desperate for release, but another part of him is happy to stay like this, safe and wanted in Pitch's arms.
He listens to Pitch's breathing slow, matching his own, in and out.
"That was wonderful, Jack."
"Better than last night?"
Pitch nods. "Last night was good but this was incredible."
"Just think what I could do with a little more practice," Jack says, grinning. "I could try on the way back, in the carriage - or in other places in the palace. I think I'd really like to do it while you're sat on your throne. On my knees, looking up at you. With you wearing your crown."
Pitch stares at him and a grin grows very slow, very wicked. He curls a finger around the ring of Jack's collar and pulls him forward for a kiss. "I think I would like that very much."
Swallowing thickly, Jack is very aware of how hard he is, of how much he wants to come.
"I have something I want to give you," Pitch says suddenly, and Jack blinks.
"A gift?"
Pitch nods, and gently pushes Jack to his feet. Taking Jack's hand, he leads him into the bedroom.
He takes something from his trunk – a wooden box and a vial of oil. Putting the box on the bed and the oil on the nightstand, Pitch sits on the bed and gestures at the box. Jack looks at it, and then back to Pitch; his naked body is far more interesting.
"Maybe we could have a little fun, first," Jack suggests, pushing the box out of the way and leaning over to kiss Pitch. The distraction succeeds for a moment; Pitch slides Jack's bed robe down to spread kisses and gentle bites down his neck and over his shoulders. But after only a few moments, Pitch sits back and grins at Jack.
"You really should look at your gift," Pitch says. "I promise that it will be fun."
Jack blinks, annoyance pulsing through him, but there's curiosity there as well. Even when sated, Pitch has never been ignorant of Jack's needs. What could be in this box that is so important? He might as well look. The sooner he does, the sooner they can return to more interesting things. He pulls the box onto his knees. It's made from a dark wood, completely plain save for the silver hinges and lock. It's weightier than it looks. Jack glances up at Pitch who merely smiles at him.
"Open it," he says, and Jack does. The tiny key turns with a satisfying click. Inside, nestled in navy satin, are two metal objects that Jack doesn't recognise. One is long and slender; the other shorter and bulbous, tapering off and ending in a wide ring. He picks it up, finds that it's heavy and smooth, but there's nothing to indicate its function.
"I give up. What are they?"
Pitch's grin is wicked in a way that makes Jack's dick throb. "They're toys, made especially for you. Since you've enjoyed having my fingers inside you but aren't yet ready for my cock, I thought perhaps you might enjoy these toys. They'll help you get used to having something inside you."
Jack's eyes widen and his cheeks burn at the same time as a grin curves his lips. He looks back down at the thing in his hand. "This - they're to go inside me?" The idea is both thrilling and a little scary - they're both bigger than the two fingers Pitch has had inside him so far; the longer one is about the same size as Jack's own cock.
"Only if you want to," Pitch says. "If you don't-"
"I'd like to try. I just- I've never-" He gives up and looks back down at the box, picking up the other toy. Now that he knows what it is, it seems obvious. It's smooth and featureless, but the general shape can only be described as phallic.
"So you like it?"
"Let's try it and I'll let you know," Jack says with a flash of a smile. Tugging open his belt, he shrugs the robe off his shoulders and throws it to the floor. Pitch gives a sharp intake of breath, desire blazing in his eyes. He reaches to stroke Jack's cock, very slowly, very gently, and Jack sighs, smiling. He puts the toy back in the box and lets himself fall back onto the bed, putting his hands behind his head and watching Pitch's hand on him, moving slowly at first, firm strokes up and down the shaft. He strokes his thumb over the head and Jack groans at the sudden spike in intensity. Little by little Pitch increases pressure and speed, building the pleasure slowly.
"Let's get into a better position," Pitch says, and Jack lets Pitch move him so that his head is resting on the pillows. After grabbing the bottle of oil, Pitch hooks one of Jack's legs over his shoulder. When he pulls the box over to him, panic spikes in Jack - what if I don't like it, what if it hurts, Pitch will be angry with me-
"Do you want me to bind you?" Pitch asks, and Jack nods gratefully. "Then let's try something a little different." He reaches up and folds Jack's arms over his chest rather than connecting the cuffs like he usually does. "Remember what I said about the shadows having all kinds of uses? I can use them like rope, too. Do you want that?"
"Yes," Jack whispers. "Please."
Soundless, the shadow-ropes slide around him, featherlight, tickling touches over his skin. They wrap around his wrists and forearms, under and over. Rope across his chest and around his biceps complete the binding. He can hardly feel the shadows against his skin; they're as ephemeral as his lightest robe, yet when he tries to move they are as secure as any rope would be. He lets out a shaky breath and the last of his nerves slip away, leaving him feeling warm and relaxed. Pitch will look after him.
"Good?" Pitch asks, reaching out to stroke Jack's arms, skipping over the shadow-ropes.
"Good," Jack breathes, and smiles up at him, sinking down deeper into the warmth. "Good."
"I'm going to start with my fingers," Pitch tells him. "Open you up."
Jack nods, closing his eyes so that he can concentrate on the feeling of Pitch's hands on him. He gasps as he feels an oil-slick finger against his hole, and then moans low and long as it presses inside. There's a little pain but it quickly dissolves as his body adapts. Pitch slowly moves in and out, his other hand stroking Jack's cock. Coming from so many different points - the finger inside him, the hand on his cock, the ropes holding him tight – the pleasure builds quickly. Jack lets out a shaking breath, wondering if he will even be able to hold on for the toy.
"Another," he whispers, and hears Pitch give a silky chuckle.
"Oh Jack," he says. "You love this, don't you? When we're back in the palace perhaps we'll try real rope. You look so beautiful."
Jack smiles without opening his eyes, and arches his back as he feels another finger press into him. The stretch burns a little longer this time but the payoff is better. He gasps with each thrust of Pitch's fingers into him, slowly getting harder and faster until Jack doesn't think he can take much more - which is when Pitch pulls away.
"Come back," Jack whines, but when he opens his eyes he sees that Pitch has picked up the smaller toy. He stares for a moment as Pitch drips the oil onto the shiny surface, fear and excitement coiling in his belly.
Pitch looks down at him for a long moment, searching, and then smiles. "You want this, don't you?" Jack nods, eager. "It will probably hurt a little at first, but try to relax. I want you to feel good. If you don't like it, tell me. Alright?"
"Alright." He can feel his heartbeat in his throat as he nods.
Shifting Jack's leg on his shoulder, Pitch presses the other slightly wider and lowers his hand. Jack closes his eyes again and gasps, startled at how cold the toy is. And then it is pressing into him, solid, stretching, quickly wider than Pitch's fingers. It does hurt, and Jack bites his lip, it hurts, more as it presses deeper and gets wider, but the pleasure increases too, until Jack feels dizziness from switching between the two, trying to decide if it hurts or feels good or if it's both.
He makes a thin mewling noise, feeling overwhelmed by all the sensation - and then the pain eases. He feels a coolness against his buttock and realises that it's inside him, all the way, and the flat ring is what he can feel against his skin. Breathing ragged, he feels full, the weight of the toy heavy inside him.
"How does it feel?" Pitch asks, and all Jack can do is gasp and nod. He doesn't have words for how it feels, especially not when Pitch starts to stroke him again, slow strokes that make Jack shiver, make his muscles clench and become more aware of the toy inside him. He whimpers, and the more Pitch strokes his cock, the more aware he is of how full he is, that he has something inside him, that he'll have Pitch's cock inside him soon-
That thought is like striking a match and Jack comes, with a gasp that becomes a cry when coming makes his muscles clench hard around the toy, cold and heavy and smooth and strange inside him. Pitch strokes him through it and Jack gasps and whimpers and shakes, feeling like his brain is full of stardust, everything else blown away by the force of his climax.
"It's alright," Pitch murmurs, kissing Jack gently and sliding a hand around his waist. "It's alright Jack, I'm here."
"Unbind me," Jack whispers, and in an instant the shadows are gone. He pulls Pitch close to him, digging his nails into his back, needing to be held, needing to hold and make sure Pitch is here, keep him here. All the while Pitch murmurs comforting things that make Jack smile, wonderful, Jack, you were so good, and Jack slowly spirals down from the high point to a place of deep relaxation.
As the overwhelming feelings fade away, the toy inside him is a pleasant weight. Jack wonders about wearing it like this, perhaps letting Pitch put it inside him one morning and waiting patiently for him to return from his meetings. The thought makes him giggle but he stifles it, pressing his face against Pitch's neck.
"I'm going to clean you up," Pitch tells him, planting a kiss on his forehead and Jack nods, missing him the instant he's gone. But he's back in only a moment with a warm towel, cleaning up the mess on Jack's stomach and in the dark thatch of hair around his cock, warning him before he takes the toy out. Jack winces at the spike of pain, but it only lasts a moment and then he sighs, missing the feeling of fullness. Pitch moves again to clear everything off the bed and then he lies by Jack's side, tugging the sheets over them.
Jack curls up against him, smiling at him. "I liked that," he whispers, and Pitch chuckles.
"I could tell." He kisses Jack softly. "I love making you feel good," he says, stroking Jack's cheek. "I love watching you shiver, and the way your whole body tenses up before you come. I love tying you up and giving you everything you ask for."
"I love that you give me what I ask for." It's supposed to be light, joking, but a twist of emotion is threaded through it. He's never had anyone care for him like this, lavishing him with attention, affection, pleasure. It makes him so happy but it also scares him. Now that he has it, he's afraid of losing it; the more affection he gets, the stronger the fear gets.
"I will always will," Pitch says, holding Jack closer. "You're my courtesan. It's my job to make you happy."
"I thought it was my job to make you happy?"
"They're both true," Pitch says, and kisses Jack.
Feeling safe and content, Jack settles in Pitch's arms and closes his eyes.
"Your father never wanted you, you know."
Jack blinks. Ben's voice. He feels woozy and slow, and he turns carefully, unsteady on his feet.
Ben is a few feet away, beaming at him. They two of them are standing in a small circle of golden light. Beyond is nothing but darkness.
"I know," Jack says, the words like cotton in his mouth.
"Do you?" Ben chuckles. "I suppose he did always make it obvious. Not a subtle man, your father. It made it easy for me to suggest this to him, though." Ben reaches over to tap Jack's collar, and Jack jerks back, the thought of being touched by the man who betrayed him making him feel ill.
His movement takes him to the edge of the light, and a high chittering, more felt than heard, makes him jerk forward again.
"Oh yes. I'd be careful if I were you. I'm still not quite sure how all this works, and I don't know what those things are, but I'd avoid them if I were you."
There's nothing to be seen in the darkness, but fear creeps over Jack's skin like a physical thing, making him itch.
"In any case, you suit being a slave. Not really a surprise - you were never much good for anything else."
Even dazed and afraid, Jack glares at Ben. "You know nothing about it. That's not what a courtesan is. And you know nothing about me, either."
"I know that you're as stupid as the rest of your family. And I know that you're exactly where I want you." He smiles, looking pleased with himself. "I'm so glad this worked! it's always good when things go to plan. Oh, and before I forget: Marek told me how worried you were about your little friend. Here's an update: he's in jail again, and nothing Marek does is going to get him out this time. He's not the only one, either. They're running out of space to put them all - it's chaos! It's a wonderful thing to see."
"What- what are you talking about?" The chittering from the darkness gets louder and Jack looks around wildly, terror spiking at the sound.
"It doesn't really matter," Ben says. "After all, this is just a dream. And you're about to wake up."
Jack jerks awake, heart racing and fear spreading through him like a fever. Within seconds the details of the dream - something to do with Ben - melt away but the fear remains, choking him. He sits up, breathing hard, pulling his knees into his chest and resting his forehead on them, willing himself to calm down.
"Jack?" In the little moonlight that sneaks past the thick curtains, Jack sees Pitch sit up. The warm, comforting weight of Pitch's hand on his back forces some of the fear to retreat, and Jack sighs, curling into Pitch's arms.
"Just a bad dream," Jack says, his voice muffled against Pitch's skin.
"We didn't bring any dreamsand," Pitch says, and curses. "I'm sorry, Jack. I was going to bring the vial I keep on my nightstand-"
"No, I should have thought-"
"Jack," Pitch interrupts, hand tightening slightly on the back of Jack's neck. "You are my courtesan. Just as it's my job to make you happy, it's my job to protect you as well. Whether that's from someone wanting to hurt you, or from bad dreams. If I don't do that, I'm failing you."
Jack wants to argue - he's not helpless, he's perfectly capable of picking up a vial. As shaken as he is, it's just one bad dream. But it's not worth arguing over, and in truth all he wants is for Pitch to hold him until the last of the fears leave him. They can argue about overprotectiveness some other time, when Jack isn't aching for comfort.
"I can go through the shadows and get some if you like," Pitch says, but Jack shakes his head. It's more important that he's not alone.
"No. Just- just hold me until I fall asleep."
It takes a long time, but slowly Jack relaxes in Pitch's arms, and drifts into a dreamless sleep.
After a day of sightseeing in the city with Pitch and the journey back, it's almost a disappointment to step back into his own rooms, especially when Pitch is leaving straightaway.
"Do you really have to go to another meeting?" Jack asks, arms tightening around Pitch. "We've only just got back."
"I know, but I'm meeting with the person that I want to be your bodyguard."
Jack looks up, wide-eyed. "You've decided? Who is it? Do I know them?"
"Patience, Jack," Pitch says. "I'll be back in a few hours. You can wait until then, I'm sure."
When he's gone, Jack paces, wondering who it is. Not that he's likely to know them, even if they work in the palace. Maybe it's Amber. That would be fun. Or Monty, though Jack wonders if he'd be up for climbing trees. He could be convinced, though, Jack thinks and grins.
A bodyguard so that he isn't cooped up in his rooms, and he'll be starting magic lessons with Jethryn next week. Things are looking up.
He ends up napping and is woken by a knock at the door. He sits up, yawning, as Pitch comes in. A smile skips over Pitch's lips as he comes over to sit next to Jack, adjusting the clips that Jack's impromptu nap knocked askew.
"Do I really need to look pretty for this bodyguard?" Jack mutters, but Pitch breathes a laugh and stands, pulling Jack to his feet.
"Of course not, but an out of place hair clip isn't going to make you not look pretty. I don't think anything could do that."
"I'm going to start to think you only want me for me looks."
"There are many reasons I want you, Jack." The heat in Pitch's voice makes Jack grin, and cocks an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm sure - my ass, my mouth, my legs-"
"Your wit, your intelligence, your curiosity," Pitch corrects, and all the mockery leaks from Jack, leaving only sweetness and gratitude in its place "Of course I find you physically attractive, but it's who you are that makes me ache for you."
A blush burns into Jack's cheeks and he offers Pitch a weak smile. "You keep saying stuff like that and I'm going to swoon. Not the best first impression for the bodyguard."
Not bothering to hide his amusement, Pitch nods. "Very well. But I'll remember that the way to win your affection is with the truth."
"You already have my affection," Jack says softly, not really meaning to; but when Pitch's eyes widen and his expression softens, he's glad he did. He pulls Jack into his arms and kisses him, softly, sweetly, like he's precious, like he's important, and Jack's starting to think that maybe he is.
They're interrupted by a knock at the door, and both of them seem to remember why they're here. They share a smile and then Pitch touches Jack's cheek, a last tender gesture before going to answer. There's a promise in it of more later.
When Pitch answers the door, a highborn man steps into the room. He's young, only a handful of years older than Jack. Tall, but much broader than any other highborn Umbran that Jack's seen. The power in his muscular shoulders and arms is obvious at a glance, a contrast to Pitch's slender strength.
"This is Kal," Pitch says, leading him over to Jack.
"I'm pleased to properly meet you at last," Kal says with a warm smile, and Jack is stuck by a sense of familiarity, though he can't say where he's seen him. And then it clicks.
"You're my guard!"
"Was," Kal corrects with a grin. "I wondered how long it would take you to work that one out. I look a little different without the helmet."
"Kal is Alden's son," Pitch says. "I've known him for many years, and he's both trustworthy and capable."
"Thank you, your highness," Kal says, bowing his head, and then turns to Jack. "After a month of not even being able to say good morning, I'm looking forward to finally getting to know you."
Jack blinks, startled by the difference from the silent guard and easy-going man sat before him. He's a surprising choice. Jack had been sure his bodyguard would be someone like Dannel, serious, no-nonsense. Boring.
"Kal will be escorting you when Onyx and I are unavailable," Pitch says. "He's responsible for your wellbeing, and will protect you to the death if necessary."
Jack laughs and steps closer to Pitch so that he can link their fingers. "Come on, Pitch. How much danger are we really going to find in the palace gardens?"
"None, I hope. But if you do need protecting, Kal will be there."
"I've already been protecting you," Kal says, and then pauses. "Although there's not been anything to protect you from so far, except maybe boredom - but I think that's my main job now - making sure you don't get bored. But I already have a plan. Come on, I'll show you." He heads over to the balcony and waves for Jack to follow him.
Stepping outside, Jack sees that the day has not cleared. Everything is grey, and a thick fog has settled over the world. Kal points at the trees, barely visible.
"This probably isn't the best time to show you this, but there are these incredible caves over there-"
"I know, I've seen them."
Kal's mouth opens and then his shoulders round in defeat. "What!? That was going to be my big opening number, you know? Something to really impress you, convince you that I'm the best man for the job."
Jack pauses - he's not sure he gets any say in the matter. "Sorry."
"No, it's okay. it's just, being a guard is great, better than the military anyway. But it's still so - stifling, you know? Showing you around the gardens sounds like a much better job - far more me. So it's important that I impress you."
"I'm sure there are plenty of other interesting things you can show me. Onyx showed me the caves a few weeks ago."
Instantly a blush leaps to Kal's cheeks. "Oh. Well. If it was Onyx. That's okay then. That's fine."
Jack looks up at him in amusement. "Do you have a little crush, there?"
"No! Of course not!" Kal's blush deepens. "She's just- She's-" He shakes his head mutely, and Jack's grin widens. "Anyway," Kal says, ignoring Jack's grin. "There are definitely other things to see. What kind of things do you like?"
"I want to see everything. This place is incredible. Me and Onyx climbed a tree. That was pretty fun."
Kal's eyes light up. "So you like a little fun? I can do fun. Let's see: there are waterfalls down near the cliffs. It's a really nice hike this time of year; but in winter they freeze, and ice climbing is definitely fun-" He pauses and grins at Jack, before adding in a whisper, "If we do that, it's our secret, right? The king doesn't need to know."
"Right," Jack whispers, feeling the long-dormant thrill of not following the rules kindling in him.
"There's a rope walk through the trees," Kal says, pointing to things hidden by the fog. He lists things that are listed on Jack's map, and things that aren't, and with each suggestion a bar of Jack's cage seems to dissolve and the cool wind on his skin feels like freedom.
The door behind them opens, and Pitch looks at Kal coolly. "Your father will want to go over the details of your new role," he tells Kal, who bows and throws Jack a grin before he leaves.
Jack smiles at Pitch, and goes over to kiss him. "Thank you. This is going to make me feel so much better."
"I hope so," Pitch says. "I thought that Kal would be a good fit for you - he's closer to your age, friendly. Because he grew up here, he knows the place as well as anyone, except perhaps myself and Onyx." He pauses. "Onyx told me about the tree climbing. Kal doesn't have any way of protecting you as Onyx does, so there will be no more of that."
"I don't fall-"
"No, Jack.
The flat refusal, not a hint of a chance for compromise, rankles Jack and he frowns.
"Then this is still a cage, isn't it? You said-"
"I said that you could have someone who would accompany you in the gardens, not that you could risk breaking your neck with foolishness." Pitch's words are sharp but the flash of fear in his eyes makes Jack swallow down his retort. Pitch isn't doing this to cage him; he's doing this to protect him. After what happened to Karine and Seraphina while they were doing something that was supposed to be safe, no wonder he's a little protective.
Give it time, Jack tells himself. If he proves to Pitch that he's safe, and that Kal is looking after him, he might change his mind.
"It's just-" He tries to think of how to make Pitch understand. "At home, one of my favourite things was running along the rooftops with my friend. And- I miss that. That's what I think of when I think of freedom."
"The roofs are taller here, Jack," Pitch says. "I just want you to be safe. If anything happened to you-" He cuts himself off and shakes his head.
"Nothing's going to happen to me," Jack says, and takes Pitch's hands in his. "I won't do anything dangerous."
Relief is stark on Pitch's face, and he bows his head so that their foreheads touch. "I know you think I'm being overprotective," he says. "But I can't lose you, Jack. I can't."
"I'm not going anywhere," Jack tells him. "You're stuck with me now."
"Good," Pitch murmurs, his arms going around Jack tightly.
Eventually Pitch's embrace eases. He breathes in deeply, collecting himself, and then leads Jack into the room, where they settle onto the chaise longue. Pitch's arm goes around his shoulders as though he can't bear to not be touching Jack. A smile tugs at the corner of Jack's lips; for all that it's suffocating, it's sweet as well.
"I have something for you," Pitch says, reaching into a pocket.
"I doubt it can be as good as the last gift," Jack says, and Pitch smiles.
"Perhaps not." He presses something into Jack's hand. It's a tiny vial of dreamsand, a third the size of Jack's little finger. A silver ring is attached to the lid. "It's to go on your necklace, with the moon pendant, so that you always have some with you."
Jack closes his fingers around the vial and he smiles. "Thank you," he says, and kisses Pitch, the last of his annoyance slipping away. Pitch's generosity and affection more than make up for his overprotectiveness.
In time, Jack is sure that Pitch will ease his grip on him.
A/N: Sorry for the delay! I've been ill, and also I have a job interview tomorrow that I've been preparing for (wish me luck!). Normal schedule will resume this week :) As ever, thank you so very much for the comments and favs, they keep me going.