PLEASE NOTE: Again, this chapter may contain references to things that some may find offensive – so remember, proceed with caution. Thanks.
FORTY-SEVEN
Folken Lacour stood to the side and watched as Jindra Roh signed her name on the documents that would legally bind them together as man and wife under the laws of the Zaibach Empire. The process had been fairly quick -- there being no actual wedding ceremony involved. The couple had needed only to provide copies of birth or other records proving their age and then sign several forms that were duly witnessed by the rather bored looking registrar clerk. When the man had asked for copies of the pair's birth records, there had been a momentary hesitation before Folken handed over the forged documents that Marco had procured for him. The two held their breath while the registrar briefly examined each set of documents and with a nod of his head, handed them back. That finished, it was only a matter of minutes while the clerk finished preparing the marriage documents for their final signatures.
Jindra moved closer to Folken and he put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "We're almost there," he whispered to her. Jindra looked up at him and he could see the glistening of unshed tears in her eyes. Turning towards her, he cupped her face. "I love you Jindra -- you are my heart, my soul -- my very life." His voice was soft, but Jindra could hear the emotion in it and she felt the tears sliding down her cheeks.
Jindra took Folken's hand; "Together -- for the rest of our lives . . . loving each other, making a home together, and raising a family . . ." she was interrupted by the return of the clerk, who loudly cleared his throat to gain their attention. "If the two of you are ready . . ." the man trailed off, his tone indifferent. Folken kissed Jindra's hand and released it.
The clerk handed Folken the quill, "Just sign here and here . . . and then here." Folken smiled at Jindra and then bent his head as he signed where the clerk had indicated. When he finished, he handed the quill to Jindra. Her hands were shaking as she dipped it in the inkwell. Jindra tried to sniff back her tears and she looked up at Folken before she started -- she could see the wetness in his eyes and she gave him a smile. Taking a breath, she bent and signed her name underneath Folken's -- her eyes blurred with tears of happiness. Jindra handed the quill back to the clerk as Folken's arm snaked around her once more. The man looked through the papers to make sure that everything was in order and then added his own signature to the documents.
The clerk then held out a set of copies to Folken, "Congratulations, you are now officially wed under the laws and customs of the Zaibach Empire." The man's voice held no warmth -- as if he was so used to saying the words that they no longer had any meaning.
Folken turned to face Jindra, his arm pulling her against him in a tight embrace -- the documents wrinkling in his grasp. Jindra looked up at him, her tears running unchecked. Folken smiled at her, "Finally . . . you're all mine -- my wife." She returned his smile as her hand moved up the back of his neck and pulled his face down towards her, "Forever and ever . . . my husband." The two kissed, oblivious to the clerk, who gave them an annoying look. Their kiss deepened and went on until they were interrupted by the clerk who cleared his throat loudly once again.
Jindra felt herself blushing as she and Folken pulled slightly apart -- but for once she didn't care. Folken gave the man a glare, but Jindra put her hand on his arm as if in warning. Folken looked at her and then gave her quick kiss. "Let's go, my love. I don't want to waste one minute of the future -- of our new life together." Jindra smiled at him and nodded her head.
As their carriage made its way down the street, Folken and Jindra Lacour sat entwined on the bench seat -- their kisses urgent and eager, their hands gentle and caressing.
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Marco Dimetra was whistling, a smile on his face, as he walked down the hall towards his quarters. If everything went as planned, they two of them should be married by now. His smile broadened, married and ready to get a start on that family . . . he chuckled.
" . . . Dimetra!" The angry sounding voice broke through his reverie.
"Huh?" Marco turned around, "Sorry, I didn't . . ." his words died as he saw who had called to him.
"What are you -- deaf? I called you three times . . ." The man stepped towards him.
"Uh . . . Garufo . . . I-I uh, was . . . I just had something on my mind, I-I didn't hear you."
"Fondly recalling another one of your little conquests, Dimetra?" The man regarded him with a smirk.
Marco colored under the man's gaze, "Uh . . . no, I just -- I just . . ."
"You've been spending a lot of time outside the tower walls," Garufo stepped closer until he was inches away. "What's the matter Marco -- have the charms of the tower dulled so jaded a bird as you?"
"Uh -- no . . . I mean, I-I . . ." Marco could feel himself growing hot under the other man's unflinching gaze.
Garufo reached out and ran his index finger down Marco's arm, "Perhaps you just need to find the right person to liven things up for you." He reached out and roughly cupped the younger man's chin, forcing his eyes up. "It's been a long time since you and I enjoyed the pleasure of each others company, eh Marco." The older man gave him a knowing look and Marco felt a chill run down his spine. "Perhaps we should renew our . . . acquaintance."
Marco could feel the fear creeping over him as Garufo's eyes wandered over his frame. He knew of the man's cruelty and his enjoyment of inflicting pain on others -- knew it first hand; and he wasn't about to let it happen again. Marco felt the shame burn through him as he remembered what he had allowed Garufo to do to him -- how he had submitted to the man's degradations and cruelty. It had been almost six years since their last encounter -- but the memory of the humiliation and pain still felt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Marco knew that the older man kept several women and young men in the city to appease his twisted desires; and he began to wonder why Garufo would seek him out now. After their last encounter, his eyes filled with tears of shame and pain, Marco had sworn that he would never again let Garufo -- or anyone else, for that matter -- use him in such a way. He knew what was expected of him, but he would not be abused and toyed with to satisfy the dark, cruel desires of another.
Garufo could see the fear in the younger man's eyes and he gave Marco a wide, sly grin. "I see you remember Marco . . ." He roughly jerked Marco's chin as he held it, ". . . the exquisite pleasure that only I could give you -- and how the dark side of your soul begged me to release it." The younger man began to tremble under Garufo's tight grip. "How I loved to watch you cry and writhe Marco -- your fear and humiliation were like a drug . . . so sweet -- so pure -- so utterly intoxicating."
Feeling sickened, Marco wrenched himself from the other man's grasp as his fear grew almost into hysteria. "I-I won't b-be your p-plaything Garufo -- n-n-not again."
Garufo's eyes darkened and there was a cold tone in his voice, "My, such courage Marco -- and so unlike you." He gave the young man a smile that seemed almost evil, "Your position here is a rather precarious one, Dimetra. Are you willing to risk it for the sake of your vanity?" Garufo tapped his index finger on his chin, "But perhaps you've found some protection -- someone new to shelter behind?"
"I-I-I don't know what you m-mean . . ."
"Come now Marco, I know for a fact you've been quite friendly with Folken Lacour of late." Garufo's eyes almost gleamed with malice, "Such an innocent, I'm sure you had him on his knees begging you to seduce him." His voice dripped with hatred, "But don't think that little upstart freak will be able to save you -- he's on his way down Dimetra. Do you want to fall with him?"
"L-Lacour is . . . Lacour isn't my l-lover. He isn't . . . h-he doesn't . . . he's not m-my lover . . ." Marco stammered out as he started to tremble.
Another cold and malicious smile spread across Garufo's face. "Then you have nothing to worry about, do you Marco?" He reached out and grabbed Marco by the front of his shirt, "However, getting on my bad side can be an entirely different matter." Shoving the younger man backwards, he continued. "But I might be willing to overlook your insolence -- just this once," he pushed Marco backwards again, towards an open door. "But you'll have to convince me Marco -- convince me that you're worthy of my pardon." He gave the dark-haired man one final push through the doorway and then followed him through. "I used to love it when begged Marco -- watching the tears well in those beautiful eyes of yours . . . I wonder how long it will take before you're at my feet, whimpering like the mongrel cur you are."
The cold, hateful smile on Garufo's face brought a sob of fear to Marco's throat. "Tears already, Marco? You disappoint me -- perhaps you've forgotten all that I taught you. No matter, we have all afternoon to refresh your lessons . . ." The door closed with a hollow sound in the empty hallway.
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Jindra leaned her head on Folken's shoulder once again as their cab made its way back to the small inn. The coach had been another part of Marco Dimetra's gift to the couple -- it had been hired for the entire day, to take them anywhere in the city they wished to go. After leaving the registrar's office, Folken had insisted on a stroll through the park -- to show off his new wife, he had said -- and despite wanting to spend some time alone with her husband, Jindra knew she couldn't refuse him.
The pair had walked arm-in-arm through the park for perhaps an hour or so. Jindra had felt a little embarrassed, the two of them were attired in their finest clothes -- as if they were going to a ball -- and as much as she tried not to, she noticed the stares that followed them. After a little while, however, she was able to dismiss it all and enjoy being with her husband. My husband . . . she smiled and looked up at Folken's profile as they walked. Yes my husband, she almost giggled with joy; my wonderful, handsome husband.
Folken had steered her towards "their" clearing -- the small, almost secluded glade in the park where they used to practice fencing. That clearing was where the two of them had first met; where their relationship had first started; and where Folken believed he had fallen in love with her. Jindra smiled at his romantic sentimentality -- she had to agree that the glade held a special significance and that it would always be their special place.
It was there that Jindra had presented Folken with her other wedding gift, a slim gold band for the third finger of his left hand. As she had told Marco, she had been reading up on Fanelian customs and history; and learned that the exchange of marriage rings was a time-honored tradition. The band had been skillfully engraved with the likeness of a dragon, taken from a drawing in an old book; and also with the symbols for love, devotion, faith and trust in the old language of Freid. There was also a small inscription inside: Heart of my heart. Folken had been overwhelmed with emotion as she placed the ring on his finger with shaking hands.
Not to be outdone, Folken also had a surprise for his new wife as well -- he too had been thinking of the customs of his homeland, and so he presented her with a ring of her own. Jindra's ring was also of gold and had been engraved with a flowering vine pattern. The inscription inside her band read: Our love is eternal. The two had laughed and smiled as Folken placed the band on her finger. With tears in his eyes, he had taken Jindra in his arms and kissed her deeply, crushing her to his chest as if he would never let her go. It was a long time before the two separated and made their way back to the waiting coach.
Folken kissed her hair and squeezed her hand as they rode in silence. He had barely let go of her since departing the registrar's office, unwilling to be separated from her. Jindra lifted up her head and looked at him. He smiled and bent down to brush her lips with a kiss. "I love you," he whispered to her as he leaned his cheek against her hair. "I love you so much, Jindra. Today is one of the happiest days in my life . . ."
Jindra shifted and reached her other arm around Folken's midsection. "I love you too, Folken . . . with all my heart and soul; until the end of our days;" she raised her head up and looked at him. "-- and even beyond that." Jindra felt tears spark in her eyes once again and she put her head down on Folken's chest and gripped her arm around him tighter. The two spent the rest of the ride entwined together.
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Folken Lacour and his new bride entered the small inn and went to the front desk. The older man that had shown Jindra to her room earlier was waiting for them. "Congratulations -- and as fine a couple as I've ever seen." He smiled at them broadly and Jindra felt herself blush.
"Jin love, why don't you go up to the room? I'll be along in a few minutes; I just need to see about something." Folken gave her a small smile as he raised her hand to his lips for a kiss. "It's alright . . . I'll be up in a minute or two." He released her hand as she nodded.
Jindra closed the door to their room softly behind her, wondering what Folken needed to see the innkeeper about. With a sigh, she sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked off her shoes. She wiggled her aching toes -- she was used to wearing boots and the embroidered slipper-like shoes had not been made for traipsing around in a park. Jindra's hands once again strayed to the pendent that rested on her chest. Cupping the crystal in the palm of her hand, she again marveled at its beauty. With a smile, Jindra let the pendant fall back down as she rose from the bed and went into the small dressing room.
Folken opened the door to the suite, expecting to find his new bride waiting for him -- but instead the front room seemed to be empty. "Jin?"
"I'll be right out . . ." she called in response.
Folken stood aside as the innkeeper followed him, carrying a tray bearing a bottle of wine and two glasses. Placing the tray on a small side table near the windows, he bowed to Folken as he left.
Folken unwound the mantle that trailed down his right side and pulled it from his shoulders. Dropping it on a chair, he then unbuttoned his coat. Reaching for the wine, he filled the two glasses. "Jin . . ." he said, wondering what she was doing. After a few moments, he frowned and stepped towards the other room, "I had the innkeeper bring up some wine," he started to say, only to collide with his wife as she came through into the front room.
Jindra had changed and was wearing her robe, the sash tightly belted at her waist. She blushed as Folken looked at her. "I-I just . . . I had to get out of that d-dress . . . " she offered somewhat lamely. "I hope you don't mind . . . I didn't know if we were going to go back out . . ."
Folken put his arms around her, "No, I don't mind at all – in fact, I have no intention of leaving this room anytime soon." He winked at her and smiled. Jindra felt her blush deepen and she dropped her eyes. Folken smiled and kissed the top of her head as he smoothed his hands across her back. Jindra wound her arms around him and pressed herself tighter into his embrace. Taking his left hand from her back, Folken lifted Jindra's chin up and kissed her. As his hand returned to smooth across her back, he made a trail of light kisses across her face, down her neck and back up again. Looking into her half-closed eyes he could see the barest hint of regret as it mingled with her growing desire. "What's wrong?" He asked her gently. Jindra dropped her eyes and shook her head.
"Jin, please -- I can see it in your eyes . . ." He smoothed his hands down her back as he spoke, his touch making her shiver.
"I-I . . . it doesn't matter -- it's not important." Her voice was soft and husky sounding.
Folken took his hands from her back and cupped both sides of her face, "Anything that has to do with you is important to me Jindra. Please, tell me . . ."
Jindra laid her head on his chest, "I-I just . . . I just wish that we -- that we would have waited."
"Waited for what?" He pulled away from her a little, so that she looked up at him. "Are you sorry that you married me now?" He looked at her with sad eyes, "Please Jin -- don't do this to me . . . don't tell me that you've had second thoughts." She could hear the controlled anger in his voice.
"No Folken -- don't ever think that." She reached for his metal hand and took it between her own. "I love you -- you are my heart and soul -- don't ever think that." She swallowed and looked down at their joined hands. "I-I-I just wish that we had waited . . . until today -- our wedding day -- before we . . . before we made love. Today should have been when . . . it would have been so special."
Folken looked at her with understanding; and he brought his left hand up and raised her face up towards him. "Is that all that's bothering you?" He gave her a small kiss, "Don't worry my love, today will be special." His fingers stroked along her jaw line, "Because it will be our first time . . . our first time as husband and wife." He pulled his hand from her grasp and once again encircled her in his arms. "Today is the beginning of our new life together, Jindra -- a life of loving and sharing . . ." He broke off and kissed his way across her face to her lips. As his mouth covered hers, Jindra welcomed him eagerly while her hands wound through his long pale hair.
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The passageway was shadowed and quiet as a trembling and disheveled Marco Dimetra stumbled out in to it. Gripping the doorframe for support, he closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to well up in his dark eyes yet again. Pulling himself up, he stumbled down the deserted hallway towards his own rooms.
Closing the door, Marco leaned his back against it and took several deep breaths, but he was unable to stop trembling. With shaking steps, he made his way into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Hugging his arms around himself, he curled up like a child and wept.