Bane's Desire
Through the Vortex
Part 8 - Dinner and a Movie
I wasn't sure how long I'd been dozing before I became aware of the familiar sensation of my feet being gently massaged. "Ooh, Heero," I moaned. "That feels really good, don't stop."
"I am Mueller." A voice different from what I'd expected answered my request curtly and my memory came rushing back, reminding me where I was. I looked up from my pillow to see the blond man who was my so-called caretaker sitting on his stool while his fingers worked magic over my feet. He didn't look very happy about my mistake.
"Sorry," I apologized, even as I dealt with the disappointment of waking up and not finding that it was Heero rubbing my feet.
"Mistra Hildah has returned and is refreshing herself. You will meet with her shortly. If indeed you are not Duwan, then a tutorial is necessary for you to be successful in assuming his part."
"Okay," I answered with a grunt while removing my feet from Mueller's hands and forcing myself to sit up.
"Does that word express your permission?" he asked.
"Yeah, it does. Where do we begin?"
The blond nodded then began his instructions. I listened to his words, though a bit uncomfortable at being clothed in only a G-string under the blankets. I figured he'd seen me naked while he bathed me, so I got over it pretty fast. "Always address those of Blue and Red as Mistrah or Mistor," he began. "When greeting your Chooser or anyone of higher rank than yourself, step an arm's length from that higher born and bow your head for a moment to show respect. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I answered, then gingerly climbed out of the bed, dragging the purple sheet with me to cover my near naked state. I stood in front of Mueller, dressed in a pale lilac-colored tunic and pants, and performed the action he'd spoken of. "Like this?" I asked, bowing my head.
"Yes, very appealing," Mueller replied with a pleased smile. "If you seek a favor from those of a higher rank, you must bow from the waist. " I nodded my head that I was following him, and then he continued.
"If Mistra Hildah is seated, you must make your bow from a level lower than her position by kneeling. After you show your respect, you must wait for her to direct your next action. If she tells you that you are at liberty, you have permission to move about the room freely, sit where you may and converse with others. You must never approach those of a higher color rank than yourself, they must approach and speak to you first before any interaction can take place."
I nodded. I could do this.
"If she speaks with you and then dismisses you, you are to return to your resting space."
"I thought you said I wasn't a slave. It sure sounds like one to me," I said, unhappy that my place in Hildah's life seemed to be equal to that of a piece of furniture. "This doesn't sound like much of a marriage to me or a contract made in heaven," I grumbled.
Mueller looked confused, and I was beginning to wonder if it was his normal expression. "This is how we comport ourselves in Sangor," he said. "And Duwan was trained from his youth to behave properly, to accept his place as Purple and as a contracted Chosen."
"Was Duwan ever rebellious?" I asked, knowing I could and probably would be in the future. It was kind of inevitable for me to not conform when faced with strict rules and authority figures. I hoped that my double had at least some backbone. "Did he ever disobey?
Mueller suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Being contracted sometimes chaffed at Duwan's carefree persona. Standard methods of correction are applied if a Chosen or Contracted individual's behavior is less than acceptable." Mueller then reached out and touched the collar that fit snugly around my neck. "This is the band of correction. It is not pleasant. Duwan has been punished octa or more times since his arrival here. Mistra Hildah usually gives him tu warnings until it is applied as punishment. I understand you received un warning at the Center for your misbehavior."
"Octa?" I asked.
He held up his hands and wiggled eight fingers telling me that octa meant eight.
"All right. Um... is it very painful, this correction?" Better to be ready for anything, I thought.
"It is." Mueller's voice was quiet as he answered. He pointed to his own neck and a band of metal I could only assume was a duplicate to my own. "I was contracted by our Mistra to care for you, so I too wear the corrective band. I have not done anything to have caused myself to be corrected so I do not know for myself of the pain inflicted. I can relate to you that moisture leaked from Duwan's eyes, that he wept with considerable discomfort and that he was bed bound for a full cycle after he had been corrected. He has learned from past punishments to avoid distressing Mistra Hildah, even when his mood is dark and contrary."
Mueller suddenly broke off of what he was saying and looked at the silver band on his arm. "Our time is near an end. I must prepare you and present you to her," the blond said, then looked into my eyes with a meaningful look. "Be respectful, mind your speech and restrict your responses. Your words are strange as is your usage of them and will ultimately reveal you. If you must speak, limit what you say. Just do as your Chosen requests and you should fair well enough."
He then moved to the end of the bed, to the clothing that he'd set there earlier. He dressed me with an ease that comes from a great deal of practice. Duwan must have been my exact size as the deep violet clothing fit perfectly, the material the softest I've ever felt and clingy without being indecent. Unfortunately, the style was more feminine than I was comfortable with. At that point I could only guess that men and women dressed in a similar manner, for I was wearing a uni-sex, sleeveless tunic, much like that of the other people I'd met, that fell from my shoulders to the top of my thighs and was belted at the waist. The pants, made of the same light material and exact shade of color, felt more like pajama bottoms than clothing. In fact, the whole outfit smacked of... leisure wear, something so foreign to my sense of style not to mention my closet. The snug-fitting clothing was soft and unbelievably comfortable. It felt like satin but lighter in weight.
"Are the bands on our arms the reason we wear sleeveless shirts?" I asked.
"Yes," Mueller replied, pointing to his own right arm where he wore a solid, thin-striped purple band that encircled it. "Our bands tell others of our status."
I mentally cringed at the distinction of status, the separation of people by a band of color. But as I thought about it I realized that even in my world there were social classifications as well, though they weren't made obvious by tattoos but by many economic and social distinctions as well as other factors. I thought that maybe I shouldn't be so quick to judge this system when my own world was plagued by wars and terrorists, greed and prejudice.
I turned my thoughts to Hildah and my upcoming meeting with her. I was guessing that we were more or less married, and that might just prove to be a bit of a problem. I looked up at Mueller, swallowed my nervousness and asked the question that was plaguing me. "Will I have to sleep with her? "
"Sleep with her?" Mueller asked, unsure of my wording. "She has her own quarters and this is your resting room,"
"Do I ever spend with night in either room with her? You know, become intimate?" I was trying to think of a simpler, roundabout way to find out what I needed to know.
"Not with Mistra Hildah," Mueller replied, looked shocked. Then that expression softened into one of humor and he chuckled, as if the idea of Mistra Hildah and I getting it on was highly amusing. Hum, then I wondered if there was someone else I shared a bed with.
"Someone else?" At least I knew from our earlier conversation that it wasn't Mueller.
"You are frequently granted a stay-over visit with one of your familiars. Mistra Hildah is considerably tolerant of granting you a bed guest when you express a desire to enjoy their company."
"Bed guest? Does that mean Duwan has a lover?"
Mueller's eyebrows came together in thought. "Familiars," he said, correcting my choice of words.
"Familiars?" I echoed his answer, then realized what that meant, that he was speaking in plurals. "You mean he has more than one?"
A beeping sound from the wristband Mueller wore ended the illuminating conversation.
"We have no time to properly arrange your hair. You will have to wear it down," Mueller said as he grabbed a brush out from a hidden drawer in the wall next to the bed and quickly dragged the bristles through my long hair. He deliberately pulled a third of my hair over each shoulder and left the last part to cover my back. I realized he was trying to hide my flawed body. When he was satisfied with the arrangement, he grabbed my hand and led me towards the door I hadn't been out of yet.
"Be mindful not to dally with your hair. Mistra Hildah does not approve of Duwan displaying such behavior of which he has previously been punished for."
I nodded that I understood as he led me down an unfamiliar hallway of a home that was now the place where I lived. Even as I took in my surroundings, my mind still lingered on the conversation about familiars.
I noted as we walked that the walls of the hallway were painted a deep Red with pictures artistically placed upon them. Some were of oddly colored landscapes and others depicted men and women posed and bare-ass naked. All of the pictures were framed in silver. The hallway was lit by sconces set between the pictures. They kind of looked like the underside of a woman's breast. With wide eyes I silently followed my caretaker through the home, wondering, and not for the first time, what the hell had I gotten myself into. I re-hashed the information I'd acquired that afternoon. I was married to Hildah, or the equivalent of marriage. I was contracted to help her get pregnant not once, but twice. Hell's bells! How was I going to do that when I'm gay and have no interest in having sex with a woman? It was bound to be obvious that I didn't know all that much about the female body, and, thinking along the lines of sex, who the hell were these bed guests? My familiars? I was guessing that Herron was probably one of Duwan's familiars just by the way he'd kissed me. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that.
At the end of the hall we turned the corner and I found myself looking at a large room that surprisingly deviated from the red theme of the hallway. The walls in that room were appealing, covered with a landscaped fresco of a beautiful countryside. The blue grass on the rolling hills, the bright purple and pink leaves of the trees and various colors of flowers gave the scene before me an unsettled feeling of wrongness. It was odd, those unnatural colors, but beautiful nonetheless. I dragged my eyes away from studying the fresco to note that there were two red lounging sofas and several circular side chairs in the room as well as various tables that were topped with vases filled with vibrant, oddly-colored flowers. In the room's corners were tall, leafy plants, but instead of being green they were blue, yellow and orange in color.
My friend Hilde's duplicate was lounging on one of the sofas that looked like a lazy chaise lounge. She sat up slightly at our entrance and I could see she was wearing something different from what I'd seen her in earlier. She wore a long, loose gown of deep red and my eyes widened with shock when I realized the material was transparent. Mueller led me around several tables and chairs to stand in front of her and I felt him give my hand a squeeze, signaling me to start acting. I knelt to bring myself under her line of sight and declined my head to her, purposely looking away from her naked body barely concealed under the sheer red material. Mueller released my hand, then stepped back, turned and promptly walked away. I immediately missed his presence and more than I thought possible.
"Duwan," Hildah's voice, so similar to Hilde's, called to me.
I looked up to her face to see a warm, caring smile greeting me.
"Come, join me." She moved from her comfortable position to lie down, then shifted back slightly to make room and patted the spot in front of her stomach.
Reluctantly, I moved forward. Mueller's warning was still fresh in my mind to do exactly as I was told. I sat on the edge of the sofa and stiffly moved to lay down in front of her, my back against her chest. The woman, so similar to Hilde in appearance yet was so unlike the girl I'd known for years, put her arm around me and held me firmly against her unbound, barely covered breasts.
"I was frightened for you, Duwan," she whispered in my ear, her warm breath ghosting across my cheek. "When I received word of you being taken up into a mysterious storm only to be spat out insensible and bandless, I feared the worst. How fortunate I am that you are here, where you belong. I am grateful."
I felt a soft and tender kiss placed upon my jaw, then felt the woman holding me stiffen. "You have husk on your chin," she declared in an unhappy tone. I watched as she lifted her right wrist, bearing a silver-looking bracelet, and a small pin-sized dot of light blinked before she lowered it again. A moment later, Mueller reappeared. He immediately knelt in the place I'd been moments before, his head bowed.
"Yes, Mistra Hildah," he said, remaining in his respectful pose.
"Duwan has husk on his face."
Mueller's head rose and his eyes widened at that information and I wondered at his look of surprise. Like every other man, I produced stubble on a daily basis, though mine usually took several days. I've endured constant teasing from my friends about my minimal amount of body hair and beard. They joke that because I have more than my fair share of hair growing on my head it must have somehow taken away my body's ability to grow it elsewhere. Frankly, their teasing is more like the pot calling the kettle black. Only Trowa had any decent amount of chest hair, and he not above boasting about it either.
"S..something must have occurred to his former s..s..tate in the storm, Mistra," the blond man stammered nervously. "Just as the bands and heramones disappeared. He's also no longer mindful of many things and has unexplained marks on his body as well. The storm appears to have returned Duwan back to a natural state."
"Sit up, Duwan," Hildah ordered firmly, her arms letting me go. I did as I was told and felt her moving from behind me as well. "Stand."
I did so and caught a glance of warning from Mueller to keep quiet as Hildah moved around me. I lowered my eyes to the ground to keep from blushing further at the sight of her naked body clearly displayed under the sheer red gown as she passed by my line of sight.
"Take off his apparel. I wish to see these marks," she ordered. I immediately stiffened with discomfort at the idea of being disrobed in front of her. Mueller reacted immediately while giving me yet another glance of warning to behave. I stood still as he began to remove my shirt and then lowered my pants. I didn't know if this world had any deity they followed, but I prayed for all I was worth that the flimsy excuse of an undergarment I wore would remain in place. Once my clothing was draped over the blond man's arm - thankfully my little triangle of cloth was still in place - I felt myself grow red with humiliation as the two people before me began to make a careful study of my entire body. They made a visual and vocal inventory of every imperfection on my skin, most of them the scars I'd garnered on the hellish streets of L-2 and during the war. I'd worn most of those scars as badges of honor and hadn't been ashamed of them until then, when they were viewed as serious flaws. There was not one inch of my uncovered body that was not inspected, and though I was mortified by the entire incident, I had the good sense to keep my objections to myself.
"Dress him." I don't know when I've been more grateful to hear two words spoken. Mueller again jumped to obey our mistrah. I kept my chin lowered, my eyes fixed on the floor as he prepared to put my soft shirt back on me, covering my imperfect body. I was too embarrassed to meet the eyes of the other two.
A delicate looking hand came to rest under my chin and, with a little pressure, raised it so that my eyes so that they gazed on those of the woman's, so alike in their size and shape as Hilde's. Standing so close to her, I could tell that Hildah was older than my colony-born friend and there was something altogether different in her steadfast and confident gaze than Hilde's. Also, her hair wasn't as dark as Hilde's and it was cut in a short style. The girl I knew had grown her hair out after the war, and when I'd last seen her, it was several inches past her shoulders. My face must have appeared troubled as I thought of Hilde just then, for a sympathetic expression crossed the pretty and absolutely flawless face in front of me.
"The fault of this is not your own, Duwan. Mueller will direct you to the Corrective Center next cycle and you will be returned to your stunningly beautiful self. Are you well otherwise?"
"As well as can be expected," I answered, feeling unsure of myself as Hildah had done an emotional 360 on me in a very short time. "My body aches and I'm... confused."
"Healer Sallah said as much to me," Hildah said and lowered her hand while her eyes continued to study my face. "She explained to me that you will regain yourself given appropriate time and that patience and leniency should be exercised in handling you." She stepped back and nodded to Mueller, giving him permission to proceed in dressing me. My caretaker moved forward with my shirt, and I assisted him in putting it back on. Under Hildah's watchful eyes, he offered me my pants, pulled them up my legs and fastening them around my waist.
Once I was completely dressed, Mueller stood back. Hildah's stepped forward and lifted her hand to touch my right arm and the new tattooed red band, set one inch above the purple one. I flinched at the possessive touch on the still sensitive skin. In a soft voice almost akin to a purr she said, "I requested your bands to be placed again while you were resting unaware. I know from the applications of your primary bands how you disliked the pain. Are you content with my decision?"
I knew that I was expected to answer to the affirmative, so I did, and realized I'd done the right thing when I saw her smile at me with delight. "Come, sit with me once more," she said as she sat back down on the reclining sofa. I did as I was told but my movements were stiff. With a wave of her hand, Mueller disappeared again, and then she turned her attention back to me, her hand resting high on my thigh. "Do you remember Mistra Sallah telling you about re-instituting your heramone therapy?"
I nodded, vaguely remembering those words though I didn't really comprehend their meaning.
"My seedlings are to be removed and harvested in a half turn and I do not want to re-establish another cycle for this. The lineup awaiting the procedure is extensive and we would have to go to the lowest point of it once again, meaning almost a deca and tu turns. After you have been brought into contract specifications at the Corrective Center, I will instruct Mueller to establish a visitation agenda to the Preparation Center. Your heramone buildup will be re-instituted then and our docket will be maintained."
I got most of what she said, but some of the main parts remained cloudy and questions kept piling up in my head. If I understood correctly, her seedlings were her eggs and they were to be taken out and inseminated with my sperm. I figured that I was probably being given some sort of injection to boost my sperm cell count. I began to feel better when it appeared that I wasn't expected to sleep with her after all. Considering I was only donating my sperm, I figured the Purple Chosens had to be the luckiest bastards on Erith. They lived in luxury, were treated like royalty, and all for the cost of some spilt sperm. Finally, I thought with wicked amusement, I landed someplace where I didn't have to fight tooth and nail for my existence. Maybe this place wasn't going to be so bad after all.
Hildah's hand came to rest on my cheek, her nose scrunching up - no doubt with distaste at my slight stubble. "You are most quiet this eve, Duwan, and not quite yourself. I trust you are able to view a presentation with me. Walker is preparing our repast and will serve it in here and we shall commence to spend a quiet eventide together so that you will be rested for your active cycle on the morrow."
She looked at me expectantly and I offered her a smile, not really knowing how to answer to what she'd just said. That seemed to be what she was looking for as she smiled in return. She then looked down at her bracelet and another gem lit up. A moment later another attractive, dark-haired young man, who was slender, taller and older than me entered the room. He was dressed in a deep shade of yellow and came to kneel before Hildah and bowed low from the waist and waited until she addressed him. He didn't have to wait long.
"We will have our repast presented here, Walker."
"As you desire, Mistra Hildah," the man answered, not looking up. "It will be presented promptly." The man then stood, turned and left in the direction from which he'd come. I assumed he was the chef.
"Let us recline and rest together once more," the woman said and moved to lounge on the divan once more. Once she was settled she opened her arms to me and I had no doubt what was expected. I sat and then stiffly lay down once again with my back to her nearly bare chest.
I didn't know where the control came from but it seemed that from out of nowhere she held a silver button-less remote in her hand. Several black engravings seemed to pop up on the surface of it and then a large screen slowly dropped down from the ceiling. The silver, flat surface blinked and then a blue screen with unfamiliar symbols in white appeared, separated by white-lined boxes.
"Do you have a preference for this eventide's presentation, Duwan?" she asked.
"No, I don't, Mistra Hildah," I answered, squinting at the screen to see if the strange symbols would become something more recognizable. They didn't.
"See here, one of our preferred choices," she stated happily. Another click on the remote and the beginning of what looked to be a movie began. Another string of unfamiliar symbols flashed on the screen that I assumed was the title and then a picturesque scene of blue rolling hills with large billowing blue and white clouds scudded across the sky. The camera panned down to show a body of placid and clear green water with two naked people frolicking in it. And then the playing ended and a love scene began. I wondered what kind of society this was where women ruled a caste-like society and comfortably lounged in see-through clothing, watched x-rated movies and had pictures of naked people on the walls. And here I'd thought Earth's society was risque.
Walker reappeared and silently set up a small table on the side of the sofa bed so that our viewing wouldn't be interrupted. I sat up to look at the unfamiliar food on the tray that was set down on the tabletop. A pleasant aroma came to my nostrils, as I surveyed the food, taking in its bright color. It was completely unrecognizable to me.
"It appears Walker is also pleased to have you returned safely, Duwan," Hildah said. "He has prepared your preferred sustenance. Our gratitude." Walker, standing next to the table with his eyes to the floor, blushed from the compliment, his cheeks blushing a pale pink. "If you will bring the solacing nectar, you may retire to your space until we have concluded our repast."
The dark-haired man bowed and left only to return a moment later with a clear glass bottle that was round at the bottom and had a long thin bottleneck that was at lest one and a half feet long. It was filled with a blue liquid that he poured into two glasses that were styled in a similar yet smaller manner. Setting the bottle down, Walker picked up the two glasses on the table and held them out, still not looking at us.
When Hildah didn't move I figured it was up to me to take them, so I did. I remembered once, when Heero and I were more or less forced into attending one of Relena's formal dinners, how everyone waited until Relena began her meal to begin eating their own. I guessed that might be the case here, but I didn't know. I thought it was better to err on the side of caution so I handed her the delicate,
odd-shaped glass and waited for her to taste her drink before I moved an inch. She took a small, slow sip from the narrow lip of her glass before I ventured to take a taste of my own. I was surprised to find the drink to be mild and sweet, unlike the pretentious wine labels Sanq provided at their formal meals. I had thought that because I wasn't a wine drinker that I just couldn't tell if Relena's liquor was good or not, but after tasting the blue nectar, I now knew what was good, for my taste buds told me so. In fact, it was probably the best damn drink I'd ever had. I quickly finished off my glass then set it down on the table, licking my lips to savor the lingering taste, and it was only then that I noticed that Walker, still standing in place, looked at me in horror and fear. Sensing I'd done something wrong, I glanced out of the side of my eye to Hildah. Her expression was one of disapproval and it was fixed on me.
"Our relaxing in the solitude of our abode does not give you leave to forget yourself, Duwan," she said in an admonishing tone of voice.
I blinked in my confusion, wondering what I'd done now. "Sorry," I said as contritely as I could muster. "What did I do?"
The lady sighed dramatically as if her patience was being greatly tested, then narrowed her eyes as she studied me. "You know well enough that the nectar is to be sipped sparingly with your repast. One small taste after each sampling."
Looking up to see Walker's continued worried expression, I remembered Mueller's advice to be careful and submissive.
"I'm sorry," I said again. "I forgot. I must have seriously hit my head in the vortex."
"Vortex?" she asked.
"The thing... storm that sucked me into it."
"That's a good expression for it," she said thoughtfully. Then studying me once again, she nodded, coming to some decision. "Very well. I will overlook your breech of decorum. But with one mark on your correction band from the hospital, you would be well advised to act with utmost care. I will be very dissatisfied if you are unable to produce your progeny fluid because you were disobedient or willful." She paused to look at Walker and then dismissed him.
I gave a nod of my head, wondering at the words used to describe semen. What had she said? Progeny fluid? I had to force myself not to snicker. I decided to wait and take my cue from Hildah as to how their eating routine went, because I was pretty sure there was one. Her delicate fingers picked up a slender, silver pitchfork-type utensil that had only two long, thin prongs. I watched as she took a bite and smiled approvingly. She then took a small sip from her odd glass, then turned back to take another small bite of her food; and so the process of eating was made clear to me. I've never eaten a meal so painfully slow and, at least to me, it was ridiculously tedious. Having guessed that this was one of those rare times when I was allowed to feed myself, I picked up a matching tong and followed her example. I was pleasantly surprised at how fast I became full from eating so slowly. Maybe Quatre had been right all along when he told me eating slowly gave your stomach a chance to tell your brain you were full.
When at last it looked like we'd finished, Hildah set her glass down for the last time. She looked at her bracelet and Walker appeared a moment later. "Another excellent repast, Walker. You may unclutter and retire."
She waited until he gathered the dishes, came back for the table, then left the room before returning her attention back to me, making me shift nervously, wondering what she wanted now.
"Your company was lacking tonight, Duwan." She was obviously not pleased with me. "I will pardon you because of what Sallah prescribed, but I certainly hope you are not purposely vexing me."
"No, I'm not," I replied earnestly. I wondered how many times a day I would be apologizing for something I either did or didn't do. "I'm just not feeling myself," I added, which was certainly true.
"I am striving to be patient, but you are most assuredly trying me."
"I don't mean to," I replied, looking at her through the hair that draped over my eyes. I... just can't remember much and I make mistakes because of my ignorance."
"Truly?"
I nodded and wondered what would happen if she ever learned the real reason for my ignorance.
"If you have not returned to yourself upon your visit to the Life Center, I will request that Mistra Sallah examine you again. Now, let us finish watching our presentation."
Hildah reclined and motioned me back into place again. I tried not to flinch as she wrapped her arms around me and began to absently stroke my chest. The presentation, as she called it, was all sex and no story; it was tedious and boring as hell. I closed my eyes and lay unmoving in Hildah's arms as she pet me, much like a person would their pampered cat as she watched the screen in front and above us, and let my mind go over all that I had learned that day. Regardless of the fact that the people living in this place seemed similar in physical appearance to the people in my world, everything else was so alien and baffling. I wondered if I would ever completely understand this place called Erith, its people and ways.
TBC
Author's note and request: First off, thanks to all who take the time to review. You're wonderful. Thanks to Azreal for catching my errors in this tricky, other world fic. Speaking of which, my proofreader will be going on vacation in a couple of weeks. Is anyone out there (competent and confident in this area) interested in proofreading a chapter or two for me during the time she's gone?