+ Chapter Seven +
The 'rest day' really was a misnomer, Tyr thought, standing in the glaring sunlight of the eastern courtyard. It was just like any other post-or-pre- meal gathering of the nobility, drinking their liquor in the sunlight and congratulating each other in that pompous vernacular of theirs.
The green of the grass and trees was as blinding as ever, contrasting sharply with the dizzying blue of the sky above their heads. Boxed in by high white walls. A mosaic of colours so vibrant and sharp; Tyr was starting to forget the drab greyness of the inside of a spaceship.
He shook his head, and looked suspiciously at the glass of whisky in his hand.
They had set up several large circles of hay and fabric, with painted red and white circles. Several of the men had stood up with needlessly elaborate bow and arrows, trying to impress the various, noble ladies assembled there. Tyr had watched with well-masked annoyance at the pomposity of the noblemen. Some of them were good shots, and could make capable warriors if their lifestyles weren't so soft.
The hours after prayers wore on, boring, with so much forced laughter and wit it was almost painful. He stood to nearer to one of the walls, holding his whisky, almost in the shade. He was near Lady Geeia, who had been following him around discreetly since prayers, her pale blue gown trailing behind her. She had decided, with a childish, ladylike smile and laugh, that she would try her hand at archery.
Lord Amasai was seated at his usual table, set up by the slaves in the courtyard, holding his own glass of whisky and looking impertinently smug with his surroundings. Tyr had an inexplicable urge to wipe the arrogant smile off his face with a well-placed fist. He bit it back and sighed as softly as he could.
Lady Geeia smirked, as if she was holding back laughter. Tyr tried not to respond. She slung her bow and drew the arrow back stoically.
"Why don't you take up a bow and arrow?" She asked, squinting at her target in the sunlight. Her gaze was confident and scrutinizing. "Show us some of that renowned Anasazi prowess?"
He managed a smile, as forced as it was. Geeia had her hair piled up high on top of her head, in sweeps of engineered carelessness. It reminded Tyr vaguely of Trance when he first met her.
"I don't need to prove myself." He said. "And I wouldn't want to reveal any of my weak points to my... esteemed hosts."
"Reveal your weak points? Are you afraid you might be bested by a woman?" There was almost a wink in her eyes and she let the arrow fly, hitting it's target dead on.
Tyr almost blinked.
Lady Geeia reached for another bow, and Tyr realized belatedly that her unattractive little serving girl was standing at her side, handing them to her calmly.
"They say that General Anasazi never misses his target. That he kills without discretion, even the women, even the children. That he takes no prisoners." Again her arrow hit her target with frightening precision. "But I'm not so sure about you." She didn't even bother looking at him, and reached for another arrow.
"My Lady?"
"Lord Amasai doesn't know what is going on in his own country." She lowered her voice at this, her face never breaking it's childish, ladylike smile, her eyes never off her target. "He's talking about blindly rushing into war with my people, my land. He hires the most feared, ruthless, heartless man in the country. He thinks, anyway."
"My Lady, I really don't think-"
"They are not a loose band of rabble rousers bent on defying authority, General. They will fight to the death. Even the women and children. I know because I am one of them." Three arrows now, embedded so close together in the target board they could've been one.
"If you think I cannot handle such a threat-"
"You can't. You will fail." For the first time that morning she looked up at him, in the eye. "In order to win this, the leader must be completely without hesitation. He must be willing to slaughter every last man, woman, and child of his enemy."
Tyr chuckled, almost. "I have no qualms about destroying the families of my enemy."
"But they are not your enemy, are they?" The humour never left Lady Geeia's face. She spoke of the impending war in her homeland like she was discussing the weather. "You don't feel the same passion for expansion or glory as Lord Amasai does. You don't take this situation as seriously as the desired warlord would."
"I don't think you know what you're talking about." He masked his nervousness.
"Sometimes I'm not so sure, either," Lady Geeia finally broke the jovial facade with an actual laugh, but Tyr still felt the eyes of her unattractive serving girl boring into him. With the fear, or probably the hate, that she seemed to carry deep in her belly for him. "Here," Geeia handed him her own slender bow, unconsciously guiding his fingers to the correct spots. "You have a good arm for this. And I'm sure your aim is impeccable. Master General Anasazi." There was an aural grin in her voice there, like a teen's flirtatious teasing. Or Harper's.
Mmm.
"My brother and I were both trained by the finest archers of our region." Lady Geeia smiled over Tyr's bulky arms gripping the bow and arrow. "Our family has always been involved in the politics of this land. Our family has always been among the wealthiest for many generations. We owe our wealth and our happiness to the people there, to their hard work and ingenuity. We are only as powerful there as they allow us to be." Tyr let the bow loose and the arrow hit its mark dead on.
Lady Geeia's dark eyes lit up. "Impressive! Especially for someone who's never shot an arrow for an audience before. Perhaps you should proove that it's not just beginner's luck?" Her serving girl handed her another arrow, and Geeia slipped it to Tyr with an enigmatic smile. She watched him size up the target again. "Our people are our greatest asset." She went on. "We dream of a day when they live in a free, and prosperous land, where they have a real voice in their own governance." Tyr was starting to get a bit nervous. "In the past, the biggest obstacle to our goal was the then-King's military advisor. A solitary, legendary man known for his ruthlessness and dispassion. He would never let our little plot of land go without a fight, a fight that we would surely lose." She leaned closer to Tyr, resting one delicate, pampered and well-educated hand on the small of his back. "He was the bane of our existence. General Anasazi. Nightmare to anyone who dare cross him." Tyr tightened the bow. "It's a good thing he's dead now."
Tyr let go the bow prematurely. The startled bow was lodged, quivering, in a nearby tree.
Scattered laughter.
Lady Geeia laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that reminded Tyr eerily of Beka. "Oops! It seems I've found your weak spot, Tyr!" She turned a slender back to him, still tittering girlishly, the ugly green-eyed girl following, something not quite a smile but still not a frown playing on her lips.
If Tyr had been Harper he would've sworn a blue streak.
--
"He's made it clear, I think. Your master. I wish somebody would do that for me for once. Here, take this." Lim handed Harper a basket of small rolls of bread that smelled deliciously fresh. Harper bit his lip and wondered when the last time he had something so fresh and perfect to eat was. It was almost like being back on Earth again- except the hunger wasn't so blindingly painful. There was just this severe little boundary between the necessities he received and the luxuries everyone else enjoyed.
"What do you mean?" He asked, raising one eyebrow, following the dark- haired boy as he moved quickly through the busy kitchen like a dog through traffic.
"Look, it's obvious that Lord Amasai has it bad for you. Your master just made it clear that you're off limits and Lord Amasai just respects him so much that he'll leave you alone." Lim didn't turn back and look at Harper as he said those words, moving quickly down the white stucco halls.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Harper tried not to think about how nice it would be to eat one of those rolls while it was still fresh.
"It's just nice, that's all." Lim sighed. "I don't know. I just talk about anything, you know that. Ignore me."
"Well what did you-"
"Shh." Lim stopped Harper and laid a small pale hand on a pair of huge, solid wooden doors that had appeared in front of them. Lim laid one small pale hand against the dark of the door, balancing one large steaming plate of meat across his other, bare arm. He leaned a little, ineffectually, against the arm he had against the door. "A little help, eh?" He said, whining a little, and Harper allowed a small, stifled laugh.
He pushed open the door and as Lim entered the dining hall, his head bowed and his dark hair hanging over his face like a curtain, Harper hung back and stared up at the massive hall before him.
He had never had the pleasure of eating in the big dining hall before, of course, having been confined to Tyr's quarters or his own small room in the servant's wing. It took him a moment to realize that none of the slaves present were eating anyway, just on hand when a drink needed refilling or a mess needed cleaning up.
Even so, Harper had never seen anything like it. In space, everything had a tendency to be minimalist, even the High Guard. Harper, after a lifetime of stealing bread from his Nietzschean overlords and hiding away crumbs on his small bunk on he Maru, had been a guest at the palaces of many Commonwealth signatory monarchs and leaders. But nothing like the fire-lit, deep coloured and heavily tapestried splendour before him now. It reminded him of something from the stories that were told in the light of Boston's old trash can fires.
What was the name of that hero? Bay Wolf?
Harper fleetingly wondered how anyone could have a room like this in their home. The ceiling was higher than was possibly practical, and wide, dark pillars held it up, covered in intricate narrative images in the same style and from the same wood as the wide dark doors. From the ceilings, tapestries in the widest range of rich, deep colours hung right to the floor, splashing the walls with scenes of conquest and triumphs and pillage and rape. Flaming torches mounted here and there lit the room sporadically like a cheap amusement park haunted house.
Miles of white, green and rich red tablecloth ran in two rows, directly in front of him, the gentlemen on the left and the ladies on the right. Joining the tables in the middle, on the other end of the agoraphobic room, sat Amasai with a smug look on his rum-coffee face, with a few favoured nobles.
A handful of musicians and entertainers performed in the created courtyard. It was noisy. Everyone drank from jewelled cups. Even the plates, Harper realized belatedly, were carved with the same scenes as the pillars and tapestries.
Harper suddenly felt very much in over his head.
"Zay!" He heard Lim whisper at him, and the dark-haired boy nodded towards the tables.
Harper blinked, for at that split second the music faded, and instead of Lim he saw a certain other dark-haired boy from his childhood staring up solemnly at him.
"Don't be scared." Rave shrugged. "I'll take care of it."
Harper shook his head and was brought back to reality when his longish hair whipped against the back of his neck. He lowered his gaze when he noticed Lim was still waiting for him, hid his clear blue eyes from this unfair world, and followed silently.
--
Tyr sat on the gentlemen's side of the room, a little closer to the Lord Amasai than he would have been comfortable with. He sat the way he always did, that is to say, alert and upright, his arms crossed over his chest, his forearms covered with the thick black animal hide that had come to make up most of his wardrobe now, the half-cape sweeping over the back of the intricately carved dark wood chair. He leaned back very slightly, just to give the illusion that he was casually enjoying himself, his big black boots crossed at the ankle.
How, exactly, was a warlord supposed to enjoy himself? The job description in itself seemed like a curse, running around waging wars on whomever for whatever. It seemed more like a foolhardy child's game than a real calling. What other people might have called pride or a thrill Tyr saw as a deathwish. But he had been a mercenary for a very long time to survive, and if being a warlord meant surviving and returning to care for his son, he would do it.
Lady Geeia sat almost directly across from him and she seemed to take great delight in not meeting his gaze. He didn't realize that he spent most of his time staring at her not staring at him, and he looked slightly more like a lovesick schoolboy than the nonchalant warrior he was trying to convey.
She had managed to find time to change in between the archery and lazing around in the sun and now. Her hair, having been in wild curls and bound up before, was now tied in what could only have been uncomfortably tight knots around her head. She wore something low and red, that wrapped around her torso and left her arms and legs bare. It was refreshing and...alluring in its simplicity.
"It's traditional where we come from," Okasha said as he appeared in the bejewelled seat next to Tyr, a cup of wine in each hand.
Tyr didn't show it, but he was a little startled.
"It's a sort of variation on the dress that the village women wear down there. Well, it's a little fancier, but you know." Okasha continued. He gave Tyr an unsettling, knowing smile. "She's not supposed to wear it here. Our culture offends his Lordship," He whispered the last part, but he still managed to spit the last word, and the biting spite wasn't lost. "But my sister doesn't care for his Lordship's delicate sensibilities. If she feels that making a certain point is in her best interests, she'll do it, and she doesn't care whose toes she steps on."
Tyr's eyes involuntarily flickered back to where Geeia sat, surrounded by other noblewomen, other wives and sisters that he hadn't met personally. Her deep, wide dark eyes were upon his and she smiled, enigmatically, before getting up and leaving the table, not even excusing herself to her friends.
"Come on, Anasazi." Okasha said. "It's the rest day meal, it's more of a party than a formal thing, let's go have a bit of tobacco. I have something I need to talk to you about." He stood up and left without another word, and somehow, Tyr found himself following.
--
Harper was tired and a little confused. The sporadically lit, richly coloured room reminded him at times of the trash-can fire lit tunnels in Boston and the attached, conflicting emotions sapped his strength. So, he only managed to cock a quirky eyebrow when Lim told him to refill Lord Amasai's wine.
"Huh?" So far that night he had just followed Lim around like a sort of damned assistant, helping when Lim had to carry some plate that was too big or something, picking up after him. Now Lim bit his lip and his dark eyes flickered between the head of the table and Harper.
"Here. It's fine. His cup is getting low, they're all getting low, just take this and go over there and fill it up." With that, Lim held up a large, intricately designed wine jug that was almost as big as he was.
"What? Why can't you do it, you're not doing anything else." Some of the old snark was crawling back onto Harper's face but he was comfortable enough around Lim now to show it.
"Please, Zay?" Lim pouted.
"Boo that. I'm not going over there. That guy totally gives me the creeps."
"Please just to this for me just this once and I'll never ask you anything again."
"Oh, right, yeah, I believe you there." Harper pulled a face and backed away a little.
"Zay, please, just..." Lim bit his lip and looked at a spot somewhere behind Harper's shoulder, before hastily shoving the big intricate wine jar into Harper's hands and then scampering off.
"What the f...Jesus." Harper was too taken aback by the weight of the jar in his arms to follow where Lim had run off to. "I can't believe this," He muttered under his breath as he made his way to the head of the table where the Lord and his favoured noblemen sat, struggling to not spill the sweet smelling wine.
He made sure to keep his eyes lowered as he approached the table, which admittedly made it difficult to navigate his way to the table.
Amasai was sitting casually with one elbow resting on the table, playing idly with his bejewlled, empty wine cup. He sat his legs reclined out before him, away from the table, in an informal, almost bored manner.
"Of course there has been more rain in the north these past few weeks," He was saying to one of his friends, who were sitting around him just as languidly, very obviously affected by the wine they had all been drinking. "It's been good for the crops, and I suspect we'll have a slighter wetter summer as well."
Harper scowled at the mess of big, heavy crossed boots before him, picking his way delicately across them to get to the table and pour the damned wine all ready.
"But you can feel the humidity of course." Amasai went on, and Harper could feel the bigger man's eyes on his face.
He felt his Lordship move but he didn't see what was going on, and that unsettled him. Years ago he was quite good at following a Nietzschean's movements without the luxury of being able to raise his gaze. He had become soft on the Andro-
"Every day you can feel more of the humidity on your skin and in your breath. And just look at this little one's hair."
And then he touched him! The slurring bastard actually reached out and stuck a hand into Harper's now longish hair, and the little engineer jerked involuntarily.
Amasai chuckled, he actually had the gall to chuckle, and Harper realized that his Lordship had brought his legs around Harper's, effectively trapping him there. He jerked involuntarily again. Amasai reached out and pulled Harper closer to him, so close Harper could smell, no, taste the wine on his breath, the bigger man's hands travelling dangerously close to the hem of his pure white slave's garment. "Is the humidity making limp your pretty yellow hair?"
At the feel of his Lordship's hands on his bare skin, something flashed through Harper, a shame-filled, disgusting fear that he had felt in a fuller, all-encompassing way when he was last ill. He could feel the fear and the disgust and the shame and the hurt start to fill him up again. Suddenly, he very much wanted to expel that fear, and he reacted the only way he knew how to.
"Don't touch me!" Harper's voice suddenly broke out of the silent little shell that he had somehow become, and he elbowed the inert Lord hard in the center of his chest. He tripped backwards over Amasai's legs and ended up sprawled on the elaborate marble floor, spluttering indignantly, red-faced and covered in wine.
The nobles there all laughed as Harper reached to pull the hem of his wine- soaked slave's garment down a little more modestly.
"Don't you ever touch me again, you fucking Uber piece of-" Harper drew back a fist to strike Lord Amasai, his shrill voice carried and filled the entire breadth of the big spectacular room, and everyone, literally, stopped and turned. Lord Amasai's eyebrows raised and he gave a short, startling bark of delighted laughter. Harper's face reddened even more if that was possible.
"Oh, that was a bril move Shay, way to fucking go." Harper spun and saw Rave there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and staring up at him with those hardened dark eyes, a flippant sneer on his face.
What. The. Fuck? Harper started shaking for some reason, and he swallowed hard, trying very hard to prevent the angry tears that were now spiking at the back of his eyes. He shook even more as the rest of the congregated nobles started to share in their Lord's jarring, arrogant laugh, and very quickly ran in the direction of the kitchens.
About halfway there, still muttering obscenities under his breath and leaving purpley wine-scented footprints everywhere he went, he found Lim huddled up against the wall, trying his best that Harper wouldn't see him.
"What the fuck was that?!" Harper yelled, pushing Lim's exposed shoulder harshly so the other boy slammed into the wall. "Did you fucking know that was going to happen? Did you fucking set me up?"
"Zay, I'm so sorry," The dark-eyed boy was shaking just as hard with fear as Harper was from righteous anger. "I'm so, so sorry, I had no idea that-"
"Why the fuck did you do that to me? Do you know what you've just...I fucking hate you, do you know that? I hate you!" He slammed Lim up against the wall again, using both hands this time. "I hope you-"
"Zay, stop!" Panga had her arms around her waist now, and Harper didn't know where she had come from or how long she had been trying to get his attention.
"Stay out of this, let me go!" Harper didn't even bother turning, his gaze staying on Lim the whole time. He felt betrayed. He felt worse than betrayed, he felt that somehow the floodgates of some other, bigger betrayal had just been opened by Lim, whom he had mistaken for a friend. The lingering feeling of fear and shame was still there and it scared him, and as long as he was yelling at someone he didn't have to think about it.
"Zay, stop it." Panga said, firmly this time, and she shoved him back away from Lim. "It's not Lim's fault. You know that. It would've been worse. You haven't seen what-"
"Fine. Whatever." Harper sneered, wiping an errant, spiteful tear from his face, and stormed off, resuming his flight to the kitchens, and past. While he was going he almost heard Lim's sniffling, and Panga telling him that she would clean the hall up and everything would be all right.
--
Tyr stood outside the exterior doors of the kitchen, facing the trees that separated the estate and the ocean, staring up at the endless, dizzying sea of stars above him. He rubbed at the spaces between his hidden bone spurs absently.
He had painted himself into a corner. Geeia and Okasha had confronted him, plain and simple, without the pretense and the flirty doublespeak that Geeia had been using before. They knew he wasn't the real General Anasazi they said, and they knew the real General Anasazi was dead, one of Okasha's loyal servants had found his body. They were fairly certain they were the only ones who knew and they would keep his secret and help him find a way to get back home, wherever that was, if he only did one thing for him. Lead the ragtag army of misfits from their homeland in rebellion against Amasai's occupation. Dupe Amasai into thinking he was fighting his war, but lead the Southers until the people were once again free.
Fight a double war, a double lie. Live one double life inside another.
And Tyr really had no choice if he wanted to survive. He could have snapped both their necks if a ship was on hand to fly away to another planet where nobody would ever find him, but for the time being, until he fulfilled this wish of theirs, he was stranded. He knew full well, thought he wouldn't admit it to Harper, that they were stuck on this planet without the help of at least a few friendly natives.
It was almost frightening, their transformation, from the smiling, good- natured brother and sister pair that they were before. Now they stood before him, fully capable of sealing his and Harper's death, and they still smiled, as if Tyr's fate were some immense joke. There was an intensity and a fearsome capability in their eyes that Tyr had not noticed before, and he almost respected them for it.
He did respect them for it.
They had left him to make his decision almost as quickly as they had dragged him out to tell him their ultimatum, with the same deadly smiles and none of the friendly joviality or flirting that one or the other usually bestowed upon him. They left him alone.
And, not for the first time in his life, he felt immensely lonely.
Harper came bursting out of the exterior kitchen door, cursing loudly. He almost ran right past Tyr if not for the Nietzschean's arm that came out instinctively to block him.
"Fucking hell ass...!" Harper almost squeaked when Tyr clamped a wide, dark hand over his mouth.
"Be silent!" Tyr hissed. He took in Harper's tear-streaked, reddened face and purple-soaked garment. "What in hell happened to you?"
"What does it look like?" Harper batted away Tyr's arms with a strength neither men knew he had. "That bastard tried to...he tried to...fuck!"
"What did you do, boy?"
"I couldn't help it! He tried to...what would you have done? Huh? Would you have just stood there and taken it? Is that what you'd have me do?" Harper's voice was high-pitched and frantic. "There's only so much I can take, Tyr! I've had e-fucking-nough of this shit!"
"Harper, calm down and be quiet," Tyr almost growled, kneeling down so he was closer to the boy's eye level. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did. Please tell me you didn't give our esteemed Lord Amasai reason to be angry with us."
Harper calmed down, a little, his breathing still hitched in his chest and the tears still streamed down his face freely. After a very long, frightening pause, he said, smally, "I'm sorry, Tyr."
"Divine help us." Tyr muttered as he took one of Harper's arms, painfully, and dragged him off into the woods, towards the ocean.
"Look, it'll be all right," Harper tried to reason, but his voice was still hitching with sobs and it wasn't very convincing. "I'm better now, right? Let's just tell them that I'm all fine now and you want to go back home and we'll go fix the Maru and get the hell off this rock."
"We cannot."
"Why the fuck not? Tyr? Please! I really can't stand this anymore!" Harper stopped short as he realized that they had come to the edge of the beach, a small enclave where the shore lapped up gently in the nighttime darkness. A large, virginal moon hung low in the sky, reflected off the waves in blinding ribbons of silver on black.
"We cannot." Tyr said, softly. He watched as Harper walked across the dull sand softly, as if drawn to the gently lapping black waves. "We're bound here now. We cannot leave until we get the help of the people here and that won't be for a while."
Harper stood with the water reaching his knees now, staring down at the waves that pooled around him. Tyr wondered for a moment if the boy had heard what he had said.
Harper was remembering. He was remembering for what was possibly the first time outside of dreams, outside of delirium, the nights in the sewers in Quincy, and the way Rave would steal out of the shadows and take his place. The disgusting sort of shameful fear rose up in him again and he choked it down, wiping away another errant, spiteful tear. He rubbed his face and tried to remember what Tyr was saying. "Why...why can't you just, like, demand to be left alone for so long or whatever when you plan the war?"
"It's not that easy."
"It never fucking is with you, is it?"
Tyr contemplating telling Harper the truth but it would have been too dangerous. He took a step forward in the sand, closer to the water. "Harper, I want you to look at the sky."
"Oh, fuck off."
"Boy. Please." Tyr didn't bother to take notice of his boots or trousers as he came to stand stoically in the water behind Harper, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Just look."
Harper sighed and lifted his gaze, causing an uncomfortable crick in the curve of his back, and took in the massive field of stars above him.
"Do you think you can find out where we are from this?"
"No." It was said out of spite. Tyr's grip on his shoulders tightened somewhat.
"Just look. Think. After a long time, after you've had a chance to map these and observe them, do you think you could possibly find out where we are?"
"....maybe." He muttered peevishly.
"Good." Tyr's hands continued to rub and prod gently at the uncomfortable crick in the curve of Harper's back. Harper stared up at the stars, a little confused by their numbers- of course, he had never been on a planet where the sky was this clear before. There was something niggling about them. Something textbook and almost but not quite there that he should have grasped...but he couldn't. Yet another thing he couldn't do.
"I can't do this, Tyr," He said, and his voice was quiet and mournful. "I can't fucking...I can't do anything here anymore. I don't even know who I am anymore."
"Boy-"
"No, shut up for a second, let me talk." Harper turned around, his sandalled feet coming up from the underwater sand they had melted into. "I can't do this anymore. You don't know what it's like, you're getting the good end of the double standard." He took a step back, deeper into the waves, when Tyr tried to grasp his shoulder again. "You don't know what it's like! You didn't see what he tried to do me, Tyr, you weren't there when they all laughed at me! You weren't there when they...took me to that fucking witch doctor or whatever the hell and poured that shit down my throat, you don't know what it's like to be treated like this! I thought I was done with this, I can't deal with this now, I can't deal with all the things that are...goddammit, I don't even know what thoughts are mine or not anymore! I'm not Harper, I'm Zay, I'm fucking Zay with the fucking limp and I can't even-"
Then, something amazing happened.
Tyr kissed Harper.
Well, that doesn't really do it justice. One moment he was glowering as Harper vented his frustration and the next he was cupping Harper's cheek with his left hand and encircling Harper's waist with the other arm, and their mouths were infused in something that was not quite romantic but not quite rough, either. Their mouths still locked, Tyr sank to the ground, sitting in the waves as they lapped up gently and pooled around them. There was a little bit of darting with Tyr's tongue, trying to get in to get more of that honey-cake taste, but Harper's jaw was clenched shut and the boy wouldn't budge.
When Tyr finally relented he drew back, but remained holding Harper close to him and cupping his cheek. "You are Seamus Harper." He said softly. Then, a little louder, a little more firmly. "You are Seamus Zelazny Harper. You were born on the planet Earth under the Dragan heel. You served on the Eureka Maru and are currently the engineer for the High Guard Commonwealth Glorious Heritage Andromeda Ascendant. You have shown amazing feats of strength and survival and beaten all the odds when the rest of the universe seemed out to get you. You are a survivor.You are not Zay, you are not a Casiijan slave, and you certainly do not belong to any General Anasazi, or to me. You belong to no one, Harper, but yourself."
There was a moment of silent. Harper stared up at Tyr, wanting to respond, wanting to say something, wanting to thank him for saying that, or even to agree, but he couldn't. He couldn't agree and he couldn't thank him. And the conflicting emotions attached to the feeling of the bigger man's left thumb rubbing soothingly across his lower lip wasn't helping.
Tyr watched the boy's clear blue eyes, made dark and sparkling by the unfettered moonlight, as they meandered uncertainly all over Tyr's face, swimming with changing emotions, before settling on two primary ones.
Doubt. And loneliness.
Tyr was suddenly overcome with the feeling one gets when one finally finds a kindred spirit. So, without really thinking about it, he leaned forward and kissed Harper again.
Harper reciprocated this time, almost too eagerly, wrapping his own frail, small arms around Tyr's neck, and lifting himself up in the water to get a seat on Tyr's lap. The gentle waves pushed him into the bigger man's chest and Harper sighed as Tyr's hands found their way up inside Harper's damp slave garment. He sighed when he laid his head on Tyr's shoulder and Tyr kissed his neck gently, the feeling being not quite unlike tickling and far more pleasurable. Tyr's large hands found their way all around Harper's body, as Harper just sat there and enjoyed it. He needed to be this close to another person, he hadn't had this sort of skin to skin contact in so long and it melted away the anxiety he had been carting around inside of him. He gasped the littlest bit when Tyr began stroking one already taut nipple, rubbing it gently, almost premeditatively.
Everywhere Tyr touched him felt like, well, not like fire, but an embarrassed sort of sweetness, a blush, and Harper was shaking. He leaned up and kissed Tyr back, on the cheek, enjoying the feel of the short trimmed beard scratching against his own soft skin, hugging the older man closer.
And it was felt good, it was good, and it was real, it wasn't like all the other times. Harper sighed as Tyr's hands trailed across his back and belly, it was the first time he was actually touched, the first time he actually felt. He laid his head back down on Tyr's shoulder. Tyr's hands trailed down under the water to Harper's backside.
And suddenly it was bad, and wrong, and Harper's eyes shot open. He pulled back and stared like a frightened animal into the darkness. It was him. It was just him and Tyr, and no one had stepped in to take his place, and everything was becoming wrong and the same as when the capos-
"I'm sorry," He said, softly, his voice breaking. Tyr resisted only a little bit when Harper pushed away from him in the water, almost disappearing when he lost his footing slightly on the soft sand under the water. "I'm so sorry," Harper repeated, his head bowed, as he sloshed up to the shore. He tugged at his now-transparent slave's garment and, head still bowed and still shaking with the familiar fear and shame that had been exorcised for a few brief, brilliant moments, walked quietly off into the woods.
Tyr had no comment. He remained in the water a bit longer and stared up at the stars.
TBC.
The 'rest day' really was a misnomer, Tyr thought, standing in the glaring sunlight of the eastern courtyard. It was just like any other post-or-pre- meal gathering of the nobility, drinking their liquor in the sunlight and congratulating each other in that pompous vernacular of theirs.
The green of the grass and trees was as blinding as ever, contrasting sharply with the dizzying blue of the sky above their heads. Boxed in by high white walls. A mosaic of colours so vibrant and sharp; Tyr was starting to forget the drab greyness of the inside of a spaceship.
He shook his head, and looked suspiciously at the glass of whisky in his hand.
They had set up several large circles of hay and fabric, with painted red and white circles. Several of the men had stood up with needlessly elaborate bow and arrows, trying to impress the various, noble ladies assembled there. Tyr had watched with well-masked annoyance at the pomposity of the noblemen. Some of them were good shots, and could make capable warriors if their lifestyles weren't so soft.
The hours after prayers wore on, boring, with so much forced laughter and wit it was almost painful. He stood to nearer to one of the walls, holding his whisky, almost in the shade. He was near Lady Geeia, who had been following him around discreetly since prayers, her pale blue gown trailing behind her. She had decided, with a childish, ladylike smile and laugh, that she would try her hand at archery.
Lord Amasai was seated at his usual table, set up by the slaves in the courtyard, holding his own glass of whisky and looking impertinently smug with his surroundings. Tyr had an inexplicable urge to wipe the arrogant smile off his face with a well-placed fist. He bit it back and sighed as softly as he could.
Lady Geeia smirked, as if she was holding back laughter. Tyr tried not to respond. She slung her bow and drew the arrow back stoically.
"Why don't you take up a bow and arrow?" She asked, squinting at her target in the sunlight. Her gaze was confident and scrutinizing. "Show us some of that renowned Anasazi prowess?"
He managed a smile, as forced as it was. Geeia had her hair piled up high on top of her head, in sweeps of engineered carelessness. It reminded Tyr vaguely of Trance when he first met her.
"I don't need to prove myself." He said. "And I wouldn't want to reveal any of my weak points to my... esteemed hosts."
"Reveal your weak points? Are you afraid you might be bested by a woman?" There was almost a wink in her eyes and she let the arrow fly, hitting it's target dead on.
Tyr almost blinked.
Lady Geeia reached for another bow, and Tyr realized belatedly that her unattractive little serving girl was standing at her side, handing them to her calmly.
"They say that General Anasazi never misses his target. That he kills without discretion, even the women, even the children. That he takes no prisoners." Again her arrow hit her target with frightening precision. "But I'm not so sure about you." She didn't even bother looking at him, and reached for another arrow.
"My Lady?"
"Lord Amasai doesn't know what is going on in his own country." She lowered her voice at this, her face never breaking it's childish, ladylike smile, her eyes never off her target. "He's talking about blindly rushing into war with my people, my land. He hires the most feared, ruthless, heartless man in the country. He thinks, anyway."
"My Lady, I really don't think-"
"They are not a loose band of rabble rousers bent on defying authority, General. They will fight to the death. Even the women and children. I know because I am one of them." Three arrows now, embedded so close together in the target board they could've been one.
"If you think I cannot handle such a threat-"
"You can't. You will fail." For the first time that morning she looked up at him, in the eye. "In order to win this, the leader must be completely without hesitation. He must be willing to slaughter every last man, woman, and child of his enemy."
Tyr chuckled, almost. "I have no qualms about destroying the families of my enemy."
"But they are not your enemy, are they?" The humour never left Lady Geeia's face. She spoke of the impending war in her homeland like she was discussing the weather. "You don't feel the same passion for expansion or glory as Lord Amasai does. You don't take this situation as seriously as the desired warlord would."
"I don't think you know what you're talking about." He masked his nervousness.
"Sometimes I'm not so sure, either," Lady Geeia finally broke the jovial facade with an actual laugh, but Tyr still felt the eyes of her unattractive serving girl boring into him. With the fear, or probably the hate, that she seemed to carry deep in her belly for him. "Here," Geeia handed him her own slender bow, unconsciously guiding his fingers to the correct spots. "You have a good arm for this. And I'm sure your aim is impeccable. Master General Anasazi." There was an aural grin in her voice there, like a teen's flirtatious teasing. Or Harper's.
Mmm.
"My brother and I were both trained by the finest archers of our region." Lady Geeia smiled over Tyr's bulky arms gripping the bow and arrow. "Our family has always been involved in the politics of this land. Our family has always been among the wealthiest for many generations. We owe our wealth and our happiness to the people there, to their hard work and ingenuity. We are only as powerful there as they allow us to be." Tyr let the bow loose and the arrow hit its mark dead on.
Lady Geeia's dark eyes lit up. "Impressive! Especially for someone who's never shot an arrow for an audience before. Perhaps you should proove that it's not just beginner's luck?" Her serving girl handed her another arrow, and Geeia slipped it to Tyr with an enigmatic smile. She watched him size up the target again. "Our people are our greatest asset." She went on. "We dream of a day when they live in a free, and prosperous land, where they have a real voice in their own governance." Tyr was starting to get a bit nervous. "In the past, the biggest obstacle to our goal was the then-King's military advisor. A solitary, legendary man known for his ruthlessness and dispassion. He would never let our little plot of land go without a fight, a fight that we would surely lose." She leaned closer to Tyr, resting one delicate, pampered and well-educated hand on the small of his back. "He was the bane of our existence. General Anasazi. Nightmare to anyone who dare cross him." Tyr tightened the bow. "It's a good thing he's dead now."
Tyr let go the bow prematurely. The startled bow was lodged, quivering, in a nearby tree.
Scattered laughter.
Lady Geeia laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that reminded Tyr eerily of Beka. "Oops! It seems I've found your weak spot, Tyr!" She turned a slender back to him, still tittering girlishly, the ugly green-eyed girl following, something not quite a smile but still not a frown playing on her lips.
If Tyr had been Harper he would've sworn a blue streak.
--
"He's made it clear, I think. Your master. I wish somebody would do that for me for once. Here, take this." Lim handed Harper a basket of small rolls of bread that smelled deliciously fresh. Harper bit his lip and wondered when the last time he had something so fresh and perfect to eat was. It was almost like being back on Earth again- except the hunger wasn't so blindingly painful. There was just this severe little boundary between the necessities he received and the luxuries everyone else enjoyed.
"What do you mean?" He asked, raising one eyebrow, following the dark- haired boy as he moved quickly through the busy kitchen like a dog through traffic.
"Look, it's obvious that Lord Amasai has it bad for you. Your master just made it clear that you're off limits and Lord Amasai just respects him so much that he'll leave you alone." Lim didn't turn back and look at Harper as he said those words, moving quickly down the white stucco halls.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Harper tried not to think about how nice it would be to eat one of those rolls while it was still fresh.
"It's just nice, that's all." Lim sighed. "I don't know. I just talk about anything, you know that. Ignore me."
"Well what did you-"
"Shh." Lim stopped Harper and laid a small pale hand on a pair of huge, solid wooden doors that had appeared in front of them. Lim laid one small pale hand against the dark of the door, balancing one large steaming plate of meat across his other, bare arm. He leaned a little, ineffectually, against the arm he had against the door. "A little help, eh?" He said, whining a little, and Harper allowed a small, stifled laugh.
He pushed open the door and as Lim entered the dining hall, his head bowed and his dark hair hanging over his face like a curtain, Harper hung back and stared up at the massive hall before him.
He had never had the pleasure of eating in the big dining hall before, of course, having been confined to Tyr's quarters or his own small room in the servant's wing. It took him a moment to realize that none of the slaves present were eating anyway, just on hand when a drink needed refilling or a mess needed cleaning up.
Even so, Harper had never seen anything like it. In space, everything had a tendency to be minimalist, even the High Guard. Harper, after a lifetime of stealing bread from his Nietzschean overlords and hiding away crumbs on his small bunk on he Maru, had been a guest at the palaces of many Commonwealth signatory monarchs and leaders. But nothing like the fire-lit, deep coloured and heavily tapestried splendour before him now. It reminded him of something from the stories that were told in the light of Boston's old trash can fires.
What was the name of that hero? Bay Wolf?
Harper fleetingly wondered how anyone could have a room like this in their home. The ceiling was higher than was possibly practical, and wide, dark pillars held it up, covered in intricate narrative images in the same style and from the same wood as the wide dark doors. From the ceilings, tapestries in the widest range of rich, deep colours hung right to the floor, splashing the walls with scenes of conquest and triumphs and pillage and rape. Flaming torches mounted here and there lit the room sporadically like a cheap amusement park haunted house.
Miles of white, green and rich red tablecloth ran in two rows, directly in front of him, the gentlemen on the left and the ladies on the right. Joining the tables in the middle, on the other end of the agoraphobic room, sat Amasai with a smug look on his rum-coffee face, with a few favoured nobles.
A handful of musicians and entertainers performed in the created courtyard. It was noisy. Everyone drank from jewelled cups. Even the plates, Harper realized belatedly, were carved with the same scenes as the pillars and tapestries.
Harper suddenly felt very much in over his head.
"Zay!" He heard Lim whisper at him, and the dark-haired boy nodded towards the tables.
Harper blinked, for at that split second the music faded, and instead of Lim he saw a certain other dark-haired boy from his childhood staring up solemnly at him.
"Don't be scared." Rave shrugged. "I'll take care of it."
Harper shook his head and was brought back to reality when his longish hair whipped against the back of his neck. He lowered his gaze when he noticed Lim was still waiting for him, hid his clear blue eyes from this unfair world, and followed silently.
--
Tyr sat on the gentlemen's side of the room, a little closer to the Lord Amasai than he would have been comfortable with. He sat the way he always did, that is to say, alert and upright, his arms crossed over his chest, his forearms covered with the thick black animal hide that had come to make up most of his wardrobe now, the half-cape sweeping over the back of the intricately carved dark wood chair. He leaned back very slightly, just to give the illusion that he was casually enjoying himself, his big black boots crossed at the ankle.
How, exactly, was a warlord supposed to enjoy himself? The job description in itself seemed like a curse, running around waging wars on whomever for whatever. It seemed more like a foolhardy child's game than a real calling. What other people might have called pride or a thrill Tyr saw as a deathwish. But he had been a mercenary for a very long time to survive, and if being a warlord meant surviving and returning to care for his son, he would do it.
Lady Geeia sat almost directly across from him and she seemed to take great delight in not meeting his gaze. He didn't realize that he spent most of his time staring at her not staring at him, and he looked slightly more like a lovesick schoolboy than the nonchalant warrior he was trying to convey.
She had managed to find time to change in between the archery and lazing around in the sun and now. Her hair, having been in wild curls and bound up before, was now tied in what could only have been uncomfortably tight knots around her head. She wore something low and red, that wrapped around her torso and left her arms and legs bare. It was refreshing and...alluring in its simplicity.
"It's traditional where we come from," Okasha said as he appeared in the bejewelled seat next to Tyr, a cup of wine in each hand.
Tyr didn't show it, but he was a little startled.
"It's a sort of variation on the dress that the village women wear down there. Well, it's a little fancier, but you know." Okasha continued. He gave Tyr an unsettling, knowing smile. "She's not supposed to wear it here. Our culture offends his Lordship," He whispered the last part, but he still managed to spit the last word, and the biting spite wasn't lost. "But my sister doesn't care for his Lordship's delicate sensibilities. If she feels that making a certain point is in her best interests, she'll do it, and she doesn't care whose toes she steps on."
Tyr's eyes involuntarily flickered back to where Geeia sat, surrounded by other noblewomen, other wives and sisters that he hadn't met personally. Her deep, wide dark eyes were upon his and she smiled, enigmatically, before getting up and leaving the table, not even excusing herself to her friends.
"Come on, Anasazi." Okasha said. "It's the rest day meal, it's more of a party than a formal thing, let's go have a bit of tobacco. I have something I need to talk to you about." He stood up and left without another word, and somehow, Tyr found himself following.
--
Harper was tired and a little confused. The sporadically lit, richly coloured room reminded him at times of the trash-can fire lit tunnels in Boston and the attached, conflicting emotions sapped his strength. So, he only managed to cock a quirky eyebrow when Lim told him to refill Lord Amasai's wine.
"Huh?" So far that night he had just followed Lim around like a sort of damned assistant, helping when Lim had to carry some plate that was too big or something, picking up after him. Now Lim bit his lip and his dark eyes flickered between the head of the table and Harper.
"Here. It's fine. His cup is getting low, they're all getting low, just take this and go over there and fill it up." With that, Lim held up a large, intricately designed wine jug that was almost as big as he was.
"What? Why can't you do it, you're not doing anything else." Some of the old snark was crawling back onto Harper's face but he was comfortable enough around Lim now to show it.
"Please, Zay?" Lim pouted.
"Boo that. I'm not going over there. That guy totally gives me the creeps."
"Please just to this for me just this once and I'll never ask you anything again."
"Oh, right, yeah, I believe you there." Harper pulled a face and backed away a little.
"Zay, please, just..." Lim bit his lip and looked at a spot somewhere behind Harper's shoulder, before hastily shoving the big intricate wine jar into Harper's hands and then scampering off.
"What the f...Jesus." Harper was too taken aback by the weight of the jar in his arms to follow where Lim had run off to. "I can't believe this," He muttered under his breath as he made his way to the head of the table where the Lord and his favoured noblemen sat, struggling to not spill the sweet smelling wine.
He made sure to keep his eyes lowered as he approached the table, which admittedly made it difficult to navigate his way to the table.
Amasai was sitting casually with one elbow resting on the table, playing idly with his bejewlled, empty wine cup. He sat his legs reclined out before him, away from the table, in an informal, almost bored manner.
"Of course there has been more rain in the north these past few weeks," He was saying to one of his friends, who were sitting around him just as languidly, very obviously affected by the wine they had all been drinking. "It's been good for the crops, and I suspect we'll have a slighter wetter summer as well."
Harper scowled at the mess of big, heavy crossed boots before him, picking his way delicately across them to get to the table and pour the damned wine all ready.
"But you can feel the humidity of course." Amasai went on, and Harper could feel the bigger man's eyes on his face.
He felt his Lordship move but he didn't see what was going on, and that unsettled him. Years ago he was quite good at following a Nietzschean's movements without the luxury of being able to raise his gaze. He had become soft on the Andro-
"Every day you can feel more of the humidity on your skin and in your breath. And just look at this little one's hair."
And then he touched him! The slurring bastard actually reached out and stuck a hand into Harper's now longish hair, and the little engineer jerked involuntarily.
Amasai chuckled, he actually had the gall to chuckle, and Harper realized that his Lordship had brought his legs around Harper's, effectively trapping him there. He jerked involuntarily again. Amasai reached out and pulled Harper closer to him, so close Harper could smell, no, taste the wine on his breath, the bigger man's hands travelling dangerously close to the hem of his pure white slave's garment. "Is the humidity making limp your pretty yellow hair?"
At the feel of his Lordship's hands on his bare skin, something flashed through Harper, a shame-filled, disgusting fear that he had felt in a fuller, all-encompassing way when he was last ill. He could feel the fear and the disgust and the shame and the hurt start to fill him up again. Suddenly, he very much wanted to expel that fear, and he reacted the only way he knew how to.
"Don't touch me!" Harper's voice suddenly broke out of the silent little shell that he had somehow become, and he elbowed the inert Lord hard in the center of his chest. He tripped backwards over Amasai's legs and ended up sprawled on the elaborate marble floor, spluttering indignantly, red-faced and covered in wine.
The nobles there all laughed as Harper reached to pull the hem of his wine- soaked slave's garment down a little more modestly.
"Don't you ever touch me again, you fucking Uber piece of-" Harper drew back a fist to strike Lord Amasai, his shrill voice carried and filled the entire breadth of the big spectacular room, and everyone, literally, stopped and turned. Lord Amasai's eyebrows raised and he gave a short, startling bark of delighted laughter. Harper's face reddened even more if that was possible.
"Oh, that was a bril move Shay, way to fucking go." Harper spun and saw Rave there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and staring up at him with those hardened dark eyes, a flippant sneer on his face.
What. The. Fuck? Harper started shaking for some reason, and he swallowed hard, trying very hard to prevent the angry tears that were now spiking at the back of his eyes. He shook even more as the rest of the congregated nobles started to share in their Lord's jarring, arrogant laugh, and very quickly ran in the direction of the kitchens.
About halfway there, still muttering obscenities under his breath and leaving purpley wine-scented footprints everywhere he went, he found Lim huddled up against the wall, trying his best that Harper wouldn't see him.
"What the fuck was that?!" Harper yelled, pushing Lim's exposed shoulder harshly so the other boy slammed into the wall. "Did you fucking know that was going to happen? Did you fucking set me up?"
"Zay, I'm so sorry," The dark-eyed boy was shaking just as hard with fear as Harper was from righteous anger. "I'm so, so sorry, I had no idea that-"
"Why the fuck did you do that to me? Do you know what you've just...I fucking hate you, do you know that? I hate you!" He slammed Lim up against the wall again, using both hands this time. "I hope you-"
"Zay, stop!" Panga had her arms around her waist now, and Harper didn't know where she had come from or how long she had been trying to get his attention.
"Stay out of this, let me go!" Harper didn't even bother turning, his gaze staying on Lim the whole time. He felt betrayed. He felt worse than betrayed, he felt that somehow the floodgates of some other, bigger betrayal had just been opened by Lim, whom he had mistaken for a friend. The lingering feeling of fear and shame was still there and it scared him, and as long as he was yelling at someone he didn't have to think about it.
"Zay, stop it." Panga said, firmly this time, and she shoved him back away from Lim. "It's not Lim's fault. You know that. It would've been worse. You haven't seen what-"
"Fine. Whatever." Harper sneered, wiping an errant, spiteful tear from his face, and stormed off, resuming his flight to the kitchens, and past. While he was going he almost heard Lim's sniffling, and Panga telling him that she would clean the hall up and everything would be all right.
--
Tyr stood outside the exterior doors of the kitchen, facing the trees that separated the estate and the ocean, staring up at the endless, dizzying sea of stars above him. He rubbed at the spaces between his hidden bone spurs absently.
He had painted himself into a corner. Geeia and Okasha had confronted him, plain and simple, without the pretense and the flirty doublespeak that Geeia had been using before. They knew he wasn't the real General Anasazi they said, and they knew the real General Anasazi was dead, one of Okasha's loyal servants had found his body. They were fairly certain they were the only ones who knew and they would keep his secret and help him find a way to get back home, wherever that was, if he only did one thing for him. Lead the ragtag army of misfits from their homeland in rebellion against Amasai's occupation. Dupe Amasai into thinking he was fighting his war, but lead the Southers until the people were once again free.
Fight a double war, a double lie. Live one double life inside another.
And Tyr really had no choice if he wanted to survive. He could have snapped both their necks if a ship was on hand to fly away to another planet where nobody would ever find him, but for the time being, until he fulfilled this wish of theirs, he was stranded. He knew full well, thought he wouldn't admit it to Harper, that they were stuck on this planet without the help of at least a few friendly natives.
It was almost frightening, their transformation, from the smiling, good- natured brother and sister pair that they were before. Now they stood before him, fully capable of sealing his and Harper's death, and they still smiled, as if Tyr's fate were some immense joke. There was an intensity and a fearsome capability in their eyes that Tyr had not noticed before, and he almost respected them for it.
He did respect them for it.
They had left him to make his decision almost as quickly as they had dragged him out to tell him their ultimatum, with the same deadly smiles and none of the friendly joviality or flirting that one or the other usually bestowed upon him. They left him alone.
And, not for the first time in his life, he felt immensely lonely.
Harper came bursting out of the exterior kitchen door, cursing loudly. He almost ran right past Tyr if not for the Nietzschean's arm that came out instinctively to block him.
"Fucking hell ass...!" Harper almost squeaked when Tyr clamped a wide, dark hand over his mouth.
"Be silent!" Tyr hissed. He took in Harper's tear-streaked, reddened face and purple-soaked garment. "What in hell happened to you?"
"What does it look like?" Harper batted away Tyr's arms with a strength neither men knew he had. "That bastard tried to...he tried to...fuck!"
"What did you do, boy?"
"I couldn't help it! He tried to...what would you have done? Huh? Would you have just stood there and taken it? Is that what you'd have me do?" Harper's voice was high-pitched and frantic. "There's only so much I can take, Tyr! I've had e-fucking-nough of this shit!"
"Harper, calm down and be quiet," Tyr almost growled, kneeling down so he was closer to the boy's eye level. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did. Please tell me you didn't give our esteemed Lord Amasai reason to be angry with us."
Harper calmed down, a little, his breathing still hitched in his chest and the tears still streamed down his face freely. After a very long, frightening pause, he said, smally, "I'm sorry, Tyr."
"Divine help us." Tyr muttered as he took one of Harper's arms, painfully, and dragged him off into the woods, towards the ocean.
"Look, it'll be all right," Harper tried to reason, but his voice was still hitching with sobs and it wasn't very convincing. "I'm better now, right? Let's just tell them that I'm all fine now and you want to go back home and we'll go fix the Maru and get the hell off this rock."
"We cannot."
"Why the fuck not? Tyr? Please! I really can't stand this anymore!" Harper stopped short as he realized that they had come to the edge of the beach, a small enclave where the shore lapped up gently in the nighttime darkness. A large, virginal moon hung low in the sky, reflected off the waves in blinding ribbons of silver on black.
"We cannot." Tyr said, softly. He watched as Harper walked across the dull sand softly, as if drawn to the gently lapping black waves. "We're bound here now. We cannot leave until we get the help of the people here and that won't be for a while."
Harper stood with the water reaching his knees now, staring down at the waves that pooled around him. Tyr wondered for a moment if the boy had heard what he had said.
Harper was remembering. He was remembering for what was possibly the first time outside of dreams, outside of delirium, the nights in the sewers in Quincy, and the way Rave would steal out of the shadows and take his place. The disgusting sort of shameful fear rose up in him again and he choked it down, wiping away another errant, spiteful tear. He rubbed his face and tried to remember what Tyr was saying. "Why...why can't you just, like, demand to be left alone for so long or whatever when you plan the war?"
"It's not that easy."
"It never fucking is with you, is it?"
Tyr contemplating telling Harper the truth but it would have been too dangerous. He took a step forward in the sand, closer to the water. "Harper, I want you to look at the sky."
"Oh, fuck off."
"Boy. Please." Tyr didn't bother to take notice of his boots or trousers as he came to stand stoically in the water behind Harper, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Just look."
Harper sighed and lifted his gaze, causing an uncomfortable crick in the curve of his back, and took in the massive field of stars above him.
"Do you think you can find out where we are from this?"
"No." It was said out of spite. Tyr's grip on his shoulders tightened somewhat.
"Just look. Think. After a long time, after you've had a chance to map these and observe them, do you think you could possibly find out where we are?"
"....maybe." He muttered peevishly.
"Good." Tyr's hands continued to rub and prod gently at the uncomfortable crick in the curve of Harper's back. Harper stared up at the stars, a little confused by their numbers- of course, he had never been on a planet where the sky was this clear before. There was something niggling about them. Something textbook and almost but not quite there that he should have grasped...but he couldn't. Yet another thing he couldn't do.
"I can't do this, Tyr," He said, and his voice was quiet and mournful. "I can't fucking...I can't do anything here anymore. I don't even know who I am anymore."
"Boy-"
"No, shut up for a second, let me talk." Harper turned around, his sandalled feet coming up from the underwater sand they had melted into. "I can't do this anymore. You don't know what it's like, you're getting the good end of the double standard." He took a step back, deeper into the waves, when Tyr tried to grasp his shoulder again. "You don't know what it's like! You didn't see what he tried to do me, Tyr, you weren't there when they all laughed at me! You weren't there when they...took me to that fucking witch doctor or whatever the hell and poured that shit down my throat, you don't know what it's like to be treated like this! I thought I was done with this, I can't deal with this now, I can't deal with all the things that are...goddammit, I don't even know what thoughts are mine or not anymore! I'm not Harper, I'm Zay, I'm fucking Zay with the fucking limp and I can't even-"
Then, something amazing happened.
Tyr kissed Harper.
Well, that doesn't really do it justice. One moment he was glowering as Harper vented his frustration and the next he was cupping Harper's cheek with his left hand and encircling Harper's waist with the other arm, and their mouths were infused in something that was not quite romantic but not quite rough, either. Their mouths still locked, Tyr sank to the ground, sitting in the waves as they lapped up gently and pooled around them. There was a little bit of darting with Tyr's tongue, trying to get in to get more of that honey-cake taste, but Harper's jaw was clenched shut and the boy wouldn't budge.
When Tyr finally relented he drew back, but remained holding Harper close to him and cupping his cheek. "You are Seamus Harper." He said softly. Then, a little louder, a little more firmly. "You are Seamus Zelazny Harper. You were born on the planet Earth under the Dragan heel. You served on the Eureka Maru and are currently the engineer for the High Guard Commonwealth Glorious Heritage Andromeda Ascendant. You have shown amazing feats of strength and survival and beaten all the odds when the rest of the universe seemed out to get you. You are a survivor.You are not Zay, you are not a Casiijan slave, and you certainly do not belong to any General Anasazi, or to me. You belong to no one, Harper, but yourself."
There was a moment of silent. Harper stared up at Tyr, wanting to respond, wanting to say something, wanting to thank him for saying that, or even to agree, but he couldn't. He couldn't agree and he couldn't thank him. And the conflicting emotions attached to the feeling of the bigger man's left thumb rubbing soothingly across his lower lip wasn't helping.
Tyr watched the boy's clear blue eyes, made dark and sparkling by the unfettered moonlight, as they meandered uncertainly all over Tyr's face, swimming with changing emotions, before settling on two primary ones.
Doubt. And loneliness.
Tyr was suddenly overcome with the feeling one gets when one finally finds a kindred spirit. So, without really thinking about it, he leaned forward and kissed Harper again.
Harper reciprocated this time, almost too eagerly, wrapping his own frail, small arms around Tyr's neck, and lifting himself up in the water to get a seat on Tyr's lap. The gentle waves pushed him into the bigger man's chest and Harper sighed as Tyr's hands found their way up inside Harper's damp slave garment. He sighed when he laid his head on Tyr's shoulder and Tyr kissed his neck gently, the feeling being not quite unlike tickling and far more pleasurable. Tyr's large hands found their way all around Harper's body, as Harper just sat there and enjoyed it. He needed to be this close to another person, he hadn't had this sort of skin to skin contact in so long and it melted away the anxiety he had been carting around inside of him. He gasped the littlest bit when Tyr began stroking one already taut nipple, rubbing it gently, almost premeditatively.
Everywhere Tyr touched him felt like, well, not like fire, but an embarrassed sort of sweetness, a blush, and Harper was shaking. He leaned up and kissed Tyr back, on the cheek, enjoying the feel of the short trimmed beard scratching against his own soft skin, hugging the older man closer.
And it was felt good, it was good, and it was real, it wasn't like all the other times. Harper sighed as Tyr's hands trailed across his back and belly, it was the first time he was actually touched, the first time he actually felt. He laid his head back down on Tyr's shoulder. Tyr's hands trailed down under the water to Harper's backside.
And suddenly it was bad, and wrong, and Harper's eyes shot open. He pulled back and stared like a frightened animal into the darkness. It was him. It was just him and Tyr, and no one had stepped in to take his place, and everything was becoming wrong and the same as when the capos-
"I'm sorry," He said, softly, his voice breaking. Tyr resisted only a little bit when Harper pushed away from him in the water, almost disappearing when he lost his footing slightly on the soft sand under the water. "I'm so sorry," Harper repeated, his head bowed, as he sloshed up to the shore. He tugged at his now-transparent slave's garment and, head still bowed and still shaking with the familiar fear and shame that had been exorcised for a few brief, brilliant moments, walked quietly off into the woods.
Tyr had no comment. He remained in the water a bit longer and stared up at the stars.
TBC.