Story: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is
Chapter 6 Bren Speaks More, Makarovian Thanksgiving
Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)
Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex
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Bren talks about the horrors that happened to him in more detail. Graphic descriptions of brutal rapes. They celebrate the first Makarovian Thanksgiving. They return to Makarovia for the Christmas Season.
Bren Speaks More, Makarovian Thanksgiving
We did invite the American men outside to have a nice Thanksgiving dinner in the formal dining room. It was almost a buffet style, but Boris didn't care for buffets. The table was elegantly set with the china and silver available to use and was attended by other staff members who worked inside the house to help Boris. Only most of the household staff was American, too. No problem. We served them! That's right, served by Boris, Yuri, grandmother, Peter, and I! I felt good about that. I was serving! Yeah, yeah, I have issues being served. I'd deal with that issue. It was my holiday as well, but I was going to have Makarovian Thanksgiving with my grandmother and new family. I need to stop referring to them that way. They were my family. Peter and I had passed the year mark together. We were married in our hearts, but not legally. That was coming.
The men from the United States were delighted to come in to have Thanksgiving dinner. Boris was a chef from the Cordon Bleu! It was very good. Understand, I liked turkey, but if not done right it was dry. Boris' turkey was not dry. I loved a good ham and I did have some of that. Stuffing, gravy, green bean casserole (I helped Boris look that up) sweet potatoes, mushrooms, cakes, and pies...it was a feast! Oh, and I almost forgot, the cranberry sauce! It was known by Eastern Europeans, but Boris just looked at some of these dishes with wonder. It wasn't Russia's or Makarovia's sort of fare. I wasn't abandoning the holiday, but...I'll be honest. The holiday and what happened later was...not the best example of humanity. These Native Americans had compassion for these people and taught them the means to survive! They could have just let them die. I'm not fond of the Pilgrims...they left England to escape religious persecution? Puritans were in many ways were worse! It didn't take long before the "superior" people came and...well, they bought the land that became New York with beads and blankets? No one's history was free of ugliness, but the following centuries these "savages" were mistreated and made slaves! The Africans they brought over were later and the Native Americans were slaves. Who did we think we were!? Being from England or Europe as a whole did not make us any better than anybody. We took their land and just abused them. I'll come down from my podium now. I'm not telling anything you don't know. It was later that day when my phone told me I had a message. Then Peter did, too. His eyebrows rose as he looked at me as he took his phone out.
"Olek?" I asked Peter.
"Yes, it is," Peter said with a smile. "He wants us to call him." He looked at his watch. "It isn't that late in Makarovia. We can do it now" He jutted his head toward our bedroom. He sent Olek a quick message to go to his computer.
In our study, we activated our computer and it only took a minute before not only Olek, but Helga appeared smiling.
"Hello!" Olek greeted.
"Hello, Eric...Peter." Helga greeted as well. This relationship with Olek was reflected in her now. Her dark brown hair was down and styled. Makeup on, she could almost attract me. She was gorgeous. Almost attract me, but not really, though, because...I had Peter! I was already looking forward to them telling us they were getting married and could see they'd have beautiful children. It was obvious!
"How is your first American Thanksgiving, Peter?" Olek asked happily.
"Well, it is a nice day, but we're not really celebrating it," Peter said.
Olek looked surprised. "You're not? It's your host country's day. Eric is becoming Makarovian, but he is still American."
"I am." I nodded. "We're celebrating Makarovian Thanksgiving on Saturday."
Olek's eyes were searching left and right as he thought to find this in his mind. "There is no Makarovian Thanksgiving."
"There is now!" Peter said smiling. "In the past, we celebrated...mostly...about twenty to twenty-five holidays in Makarovia. That depended on who was in control at the time. We just thought a Thanksgiving of our own was needed."
"Oh," Olek said thinking and shrugged. "I think so. We need to make it known. Having one that covers all of Makarovia will take a few years." He smiled broadly. "We've reached past the three million point in our population."
Peter smiled. "You know it will only get bigger."
"Since I have you both together..." I said smiling, "I'm not rushing you, but there is a certain reporter that would love to know what's happening with you, Olek...and your mystery someone."
"Reporter?" Olek frowned and thought and he nodded slowly. "Drew Humphries?"
"That's right," I answered. "If you two are seen out in the world together. If not told, reporters make things up. Can I tell him you're...involved?"
Olek chuckled and looked at Helga. "What do you think, honey?"
Helga smiled a little coyly. "I don't mind...he and I haven't been out in the world that much together, but..." she shrugged, "I have no problem with it."
"Courtship in Makarovia is...different. There are protocols and traditions." I said. "Peter said we'd marry very shortly after we got together, but officially made it known much later." I held up my hands. "I'm not proposing for Olek or you, Helga!"
Olek chuckled. "Sure, you can tell him. We will get married. Officially that has yet to happen."
I let out a shriek of delight. "I knew it!"
Peter grinned. "Helga, you were told what happens in Makarovia?"
Olek was chuckling at what he saw from me.
"Yes, I was." Helga nodded. "I just don't want what we do interfering with your wedding."
"We can marry the same day!" I said. "Is the proposal absolutely necessary?" I asked Olek.
Olek got serious. "I think it needs to happen." He sighed. "We give the people assurances about what she's willing and what she intends to do. She will be Queen."
I looked at Helga's face. Like me, she was feeling the weight of this. "It is a different sort of thing. I know you love Olek. I've wanted him to find someone. I know he has. Just remember, you will be queen, but more important...you'll be Olek's wife." I looked at her more. "I know you'll be a great queen."
She nodded. "Makarovia has a queen now."
I nodded. "That's right. She will also be queen. She will be the Dowager Queen, right Olek?"
"That's right," Olek said.
I nodded. "She will still be operating to improve health care and education in Makarovia?" Olek nodded. "There is a lot of construction going to happen in Makarovia. I assume you still want to do that." I said to Helga.
She nodded. "I do." She said matter of fact. "I trained hard to become what I am. I will be...a working queen."
"I am no authority. So, hear me." I felt she was ready, but... "You will be, but...when I became engaged to Peter. I told the people what my priority was. Peter. I still want my degree and will use it to improve Makarovia. I really love Makarovia. My priority, though, is Peter. I'm not telling you what you have to do. I'm not saying you have to. I'm simply telling you what I did."
She smiled. "I will probably ask you about a lot of things about life here. Someone that's coming from outside to marry into this Ivanov family, you would know better."
I grinned. "It's not hard. It's just...different." I slipped my arm around Peter. "But worth it." I smiled at them as Olek kissed the side of Helga's head and gave her a one-sided hug. "Can I send a picture of you two?"
Olek nodded. "I'll send one to you. It will be there today. You'll both be here in a week or more. We can talk whenever, but we look forward to seeing you, in person."
"I can't wait," I said to Olek.
Olek smiled back. "It's nearly zero degrees...that's in Fahrenheit, now in Makarovia. There is a lot of snow." He warned.
"Are you trying to discourage me? It won't work." I said.
"Just warning you, that's all." Olek chuckled. "See you in about a week. I love you both." He got nudged by Helga. "Sorry, we love you both."
Helga did what Olek had done and moved closer to the camera. "I love you both." She pulled Olek into a kiss. "He needs to see we're together now."
"He's sharp," Peter said smiling. "He'll catch on. Have a good night!" We all did what we did as the call ended, kissing our fingers, and touching the screen.
It was later when the day was drawing to a close here when we went up to our room. The men enjoyed their Thanksgiving dinner. I checked my email and Olek did send a picture. It was a good picture! He and Helga were having a dinner at the palace. Olek was as handsome as ever in a nice suit and Helga was in a black gown. She was beautiful. I typed up a message about who she was and...I didn't tell them what Olek said about marrying, but let Drew know it was very serious. Who she was and that she was a constructional engineer. Peter came in the study brushing his teeth as he walked in bare-chested and wearing only pajama bottoms, he was a sexy man. The pajama bottoms were because it was cold out, but he and I usually slept naked under the covers. The house was warm, but...things got cold!
"Don't you have to spit?" I chuckled at him.
"Imm gon to," Peter mumbled around the toothbrush and took it out. "Are we listening to more of Bren's sessions?"
"Sure," I said. "There are several years of sessions."
"Okay," He waved the toothbrush. "Be right back."
Coming back, he squeezed in with me.
"Should we get another chair?" Peter asked me as our bodies were pressed together.
"No," I said instantly. "If we break this one, yes, but we get one the same size. I like you, Peter."
His eyebrows rose. "You like me?"
I nodded. "I love you, which you know, but I like you. There's a difference. I love you, but I like spending time with you. Lovers and friends."
Peter gave a nod. "Huh." He kissed me. "I like you, too." He thought. "We need to have another word. It just doesn't...say it right."
I smiled as his arm came around me to make us fit better in the chair. "We'll work on that." I touched the cursor to the next file clip.
"This is the counseling session with Bren Schultz and Milo Weir." She said and gave the time and date. "How are you feeling today, Bren?"
"Sick," Bren answered quietly.
"Physically? Or about what we're going to talk about?" Dr. Lowenstein asked.
"Is there a difference?" Bren asked.
"I think malaise is in anticipation of what you know is coming up, which is understandable. We'll take as you can handle it, but I will probably push you a little if needed."
"Okay," Bren said even softer.
"I'll be right here, Bren," Milo said to him.
"I know you will be," Bren said.
"He needs you, Milo. Your love and support are vital." Dr. Lowenstein said. "I ask you to let Bren talk about it. He needs to get it out himself. Understood?"
"Sure," Milo answered.
"Let's start when you got home from Midi." Dr. Lowenstein said.
"We got back to Berlin and..." Bren started. "I didn't want it to end, but...we both went homes, our separate homes. As soon as we parted, I began to miss Milo. When I came into the house, both my parents were waiting for me. I remember Mom was pulling on a handkerchief sitting in a chair, while Dad had been pacing near the front door. Dad really never hit me before, but he did that night. He punched me hard. Demanding to know where I'd been and was I with Milo. I couldn't lie to them, they knew! I just said yes. He told me I was never seeing Milo ever again. He knew what was happening and it was to stop. Now. Then he dragged me up to my room and shoved me inside and...he must have planned for it. There was a new doorknob with a lock with a key he could do it from the outside and locked me in. He had even nailed the windows shut and not just a nail or two, but all the way up on either side. I couldn't get out! It was the beginning of summer and it would be hot in the day without the windows to open, but I had no choice. I was worried about what Milo's parents would do to Milo. Milo's father was...more...I had no doubt he would beat Milo. Milo told me he had been shoved in the cellar and also locked in. There were no windows down there and he couldn't get out. I was so upset. Not about me, but Milo. I tried to figure how to get out to see Milo. Most everything was taken away from my room, there was nothing...my father brought dinner and breakfast. He wouldn't even talk to me. I never saw my mother again after returning home that first night back. I thought of breaking the window, but...it would make noise and they were sturdy and nothing in my room would do it fast enough for me to get away. I didn't want to leave Milo. I could go to his house, but he was in as much trouble as I was. I knew that. I was so worried; always hoping Milo was simply alive. His father, I had no doubt could kill him and say it was an accident. I didn't know what to do. It was the night of that third day when I heard the knock on my window. Never a more beautiful sight as Milo, who climbed up motioning for me to come out. I wanted to! I told him about being locked in. I could see him thinking. He held his finger up and climbed down. My parents were asleep, but if Dad woke up and caught him...he returned and tried to pry the window open. The glass broke and he got angry and just smashed the window open, tearing away wood and glass with one of Dad's long metal tools. Once open enough I climbed out and went to the ground with Milo. We ran away as my Dad was shouting to come back. Why would we do that? I would never let Milo go. We ran for our lives. We ran for our life! It was maybe a mile or so away when we stopped ducking behind a building. I had never ever been so happy to see someone. I remember hugging him and he told me he wasn't letting me go. I wasn't letting him go. We weren't stupid; we knew it was dangerous now. How could we become fugitives from our own parents? For three more days, we wandered the streets planning what to do. Where could we go? I suggested Paris, men like us were tolerated there more. Milo said the Germans were there, too. I wondered if we should head to Switzerland as they were neutral. We made plans to head there, but we would have to walk or get a ride. He had some money...he had not even been allowed to change clothes after he got home. He was dirty from coal from climbing out through the coal chute. He cleaned up as he could, but...it was that last day when...we were hungry. The Nazis were everywhere. We tried to avoid them, but..." his voice started to shake, "they must have been told, but...we were just two...among thousands on the street. How did they find us? While trying to purchase some fruit...I didn't see them approach. Milo did. They were coming directly toward us. Looking right at us. They were coming for us!" He was beginning to cry. "We ran." He said in tears. "Weak from not eating much these days and nights...we were caught!" He cried even more.
"It's okay, Bren," Milo said quietly. "We made it away. It was in the past."
"Not for me!!" Bren cried. "It still happens in my mind." His breath hitched. "We are told we were in violation of the Paragraph 175! We were arrested, Milo! Hauled off like criminals just like thieves and murders. I never hurt anyone. You never hurt anyone...we were sent to that awful camp! We were sent to Bergen Belsen." He said as the agony was clear. "We were forced to strip off everything and forced to stand around naked as the guards would poke and prod...in places that...they cut off all our hair and told to put on those...black and white things! Don't you see? It isn't over for me, Milo! I can't stop thinking about it!"
You could hear Milo again talking to just Bren, assuring, and comforting him...kissing him lightly.
"Okay, Bren." Dr. Lowenstein said. "You're doing so well." She said sincerely. "You're talking about it. Please understand. We've got to get you to realize it is in the past. Your mind is still telling you it is still happening. It is not. It is over." She stood up. "I think we'll stop now."
"No!" Bren said. "I want this to end!" He said firmly. "If talking will get rid of this. I'll talk!"
"Okay." Dr. Lowenstein said. "We'll talk some more. Do you need water again? You're doing well. You're staying grounded. Perhaps you would like something stronger for courage?" The humor came out. "We have plenty of Russian vodka."
"Of course, we do," Milo grunted.
"Any whiskey available?" Bren asked.
"I have my own stash." She said and you heard her open a drawer and the clink of glass. You heard liquid poured in some glasses and she must have given it to them. "Take your time, Bren. I'm not leaving you. Milo clearly won't. Trust him. Trust me. This is the best way to put it in the past."
You heard someone swallow the way one does with a strong whiskey. "Okay." He took a deep breath and went on.
Part Two: Bren Speaks
"The guards were so...cruel, just evil," Bren said wailing. "The guards when we were brought into the camp had us take everything off and..." he stopped taking another sip, you heard it. "One had this sort of baton he used to beat us with I would find out later. He..." Bren stopped again and you heard Milo speaking again to Bren softly. "He...he stuck it in my ass. It hurt. It was a polished piece of round wood, but it hurt. Milo jumped to stop it, but..." his words broke, "they hit him. They laughed at us, saying they knew was getting fucked, that I liked it up my ass." He said as Milo was still talking to him almost quietly. The sound again was sort of muffled, as he probably was speaking with mouth pressed against Bren's face, right near his ear. "He literally jammed it in my ass!" The last words were broken as he was crying still. "That was just the beginning. We were touched, grabbed...they would grab Milo's...penis and yank hard. They did it to me, too. It was a sick game of fun for them. We weren't people at all. We weren't treated as well as dogs. They weren't the only ones. The others at the camp...ones that may have been criminals, were just as bad. They were mean as those Nazi guards! We, the others that were there for violating the stupid...law were kept together, at least. Milo was there at least, but he couldn't stop the others, I couldn't stop the others...there were...sexual situations, but not with any of us. Some of the men would offer sex with a guard to get just some bread or extra ration. They gave their ass to just eat!" He said sadly. "It was just after we arrived...when...a guard pulled me out of the men going to work...he..." he stopped breathing harder as you heard Milo voicing assurances and again, telling Bren it was okay, Bren was safe. "He pulled his erect dick out. He demanded a blow job!" He took another audible swallow of his whiskey. "He didn't ask me, he told me I was going to do it! At least he told me to do it...out of sight of the others." His voice was shaking again. "I had never done it with anyone but Milo. I did it with Milo because I love him. I wasn't given the choice! The idea of doing with this...Nazi, made me sick! I did get sick! I almost threw up right there! I had to do it! He came in my mouth. When it was over, I did throw up! How is it, that Milo and I were being held for doing in love, what this...animal wanted me to do!?"
"Okay, Bren." Dr. Lowenstein said. "I'm saying that's enough today."
"I'm not finished." Bren protested.
"I know," Dr. Lowenstein said. "You have done so well! You stayed with us." She moved; I assume nearer to Bren. "Having Milo here was the key. I'm not saying there won't be times you won't be brought into these memories and lose yourself in them as before. Milo can bring you back. As things I know about are discussed...you probably will. This needs to be done slowly. I don't want to overwhelm you with it. That may cause more damage than good. Your mind is trying to heal itself as it processes what happened. You just don't know how to do that. I will guide you to learn how. Nothing will shock me. Okay?" She chuckled. "I think you're feeling a little bit of the whiskey."
"I am," Bren said for the first time a little...happier than he had.
"All the more reason to stop." Dr. Lowenstein said. "Go home, love each other and we'll talk another day. Okay?"
"Come on, Bren," Milo said. "We'll go home."
They were heard leaving and Dr. Lowenstein gave the date and time again.
The clip didn't end. Again, we heard Dr. Lowenstein give the time and date, identifying who was there.
"How are you feeling, Bren?" Dr. Lowenstein asked. "Did you have any episodes during the few days after our last session?"
"There were a few," Bren answered. "Milo got me out."
"They weren't too bad," Milo said. "If I catch him before it gets too far, it's easier."
"We should see those fewer." Dr. Lowenstein said. "Things will be more...difficult for you, Bren. Just focus on the memories and know it is the past. Milo will help keep you here. Are you ready?"
"No," Bren said instantly. "I will do it."
"Let's begin after the arrival at Bergen." Dr. Lowenstein said. "Someone demanded oral sex."
"Yes," Bren said. "It was just the second day. I was terrified. We were all...all of us that were there for violating Paragraph 175...we put together and kept. Milo was there with me, but...we didn't dare even touch each other! The morning began well before the sun rose and well past midnight. The others not with us...as in criminals and...those that were Jewish were just as bad to us, if not worse than the guards. The only ones lower than we were, were those who were both homosexual and Jewish. We had two of those when we arrived. Those two were sent to Auschwitz where we both knew they would be killed. We found out if you were sent there...that was pretty much it. We were put on a work crew." His voice shook again. "We were starved! They fed us almost nothing, but you worked. If you failed to do it, you were...eliminated. As part of our treatment...we were told that some were taken to have sex with the women that were lesbian, to cure us. No offense, but the idea of them wanting me to do that...made me sick! How would that cure us!? I didn't want that, I just wanted Milo!" He asked. "Now, Milo is smart. He is also very attractive...he caught the attention of this...what was he again, Milo?"
"A pig," Milo replied simply with no emotion.
Bren even chuckled at his remark. "Okay, Milo got the attention of this pig that needed clerical help." Then his laugh was bitter. "Clerical." He said scoffing. "That pig demanded Milo do the same with him I had been told to do with that guard! Then that pig did it to Milo! They were as bad as they said we were!"
"Worse," Milo said quietly. "Sorry. I know, let Bren talk."
"You're fine, Milo." Dr. Lowenstein assured.
"It was the end of...I don't know. The days sort of blended, but Milo was doing...what that pig needed doing. What the pig wanted. When Milo told me what was happening," Bren said now crying again. "The idea..." his voice was directed, I knew it was to Milo, "and I don't blame you, Milo, but someone touching you and doing...that to you made me ill! He did it because of me!! As long as he worked and serviced that pig, I was not treated as badly. Milo was forced to let that...pig touch his...penis and forced Milo to do with his hand and mouth to make that pig ejaculate! He played with your ass, Milo!!"
Milo was speaking quietly again to Bren. "It wasn't love, Bren. It was never any kind of affection. You know that."
"I know," Bren cried. "I understand that, but..." he stopped a few minutes.
"Would you like some more whiskey?" Dr. Lowenstein asked.
"Please," Bren said. "What happened next...I need it."
The sound of a drawer again opening and some liquid poured. "Any for you, Milo?"
Milo sniffed, he was crying a little, too. "No, I'm good...give my share to Bren."
There was the audible swallow again and wince as the alcohol burned. "It was just one long nightmare. I don't know how long, but...weeks? A month? Waking up early, working late seven days a week. I..." and he stopped again.
"Bren," Milo said softly to his husband and you heard the rubbing on fabric. "Stay here, Bren. Come on, Baby. You're doing great. I know you want this gone. Stay with me, Bren."
"I remember, Milo!" Bren said tear-strained voice. "It was in the evening...they made this announcement that some were being sent to Auschwitz." He took another swallow. "They called my name! I was going to die!" He said as Milo was comforting him more. "Milo...as I was coming forward. My legs weren't really working right. I was going to die and would never see Milo again. I had trouble walking. Milo...stepped out and said to take him, too." He took another drink. "There were several guards there...they began taunting Milo. Saying I was his girlfriend. They began touching me. Saying I must have been a great fuck. They were taunted Milo about his sucking dick and he must have been good at it." He was moaning as he cried. "They...opened their pants...all of the guards after the first one said it and...forced Milo down on his knees...he was...in front of all the others...demanded he do it to him right then!" Bren took another swallow. "Milo...he didn't do it at first...one guard raised his rifle and...he hit me hard in the face! It was so sudden; it didn't hurt that much then...I was dizzy and nauseous. I saw..." he hesitated again.
"No, Bren," Milo said softly again his voice muffled as he was speaking to Bren's ear again. "Stay here...stay with me, Baby."
"He was...doing...in front of the others...taking them each...he did it to save me." Bren said. "That hurt more than the hit I got...he was...humiliating himself to save me!" He said in a strained voice. "All of the guards, he did it for me!"
Milo was doing the thing again, talking to Bren and kissing lightly.
"I hurt for him!" Bren said. "When he had done it...to all of them...they threw me against the wall...tore my pants off and started to touch me...my ass! They wanted to know if I was a good fuck. I must be if Milo was willing to die to stop them. I knew what they were going to do! They...they talked about how to...make it possible...one said to use the motor oil...he...he..." Bren stopped again.
"Bren!" Milo said louder. "Bren!! Oh, god...please, Bren..." he begged as we heard fabric and knew he was holding Bren. "Please, Bren. He was raped, Doctor! Repeatedly!! He was raped!"
"I know that, Milo." Dr. Lowenstein said. "Brutally, but he has to face it. He's having one of these episodes...which I knew he probably would. This is horrible, I know that, but if he can't get it out, it will just fester! Help him come back. We are so close! He has to voice it to get beyond that point. His mind is stuck there!"
"Come on, Bren," Milo begged. "Please, don't do this. You're safe. Come back to me."
Now, there was a cry, a sob from Bren. "I can't do it." He said softly in tears.
"We're almost there, Baby. If you want to stop...we'll go home, but..."
"They...weren't gentle at all," Bren said going on quickly like just jumping off a cliff. "I felt...the first one...ram his penis in me." He cried. "It hurt! Even with the oil, it hurt. He was thrusting again and again. I wanted to die!!"
"Easy," Milo said.
"They did it in front of Milo! The others...it took...I felt him...cum in me. He came inside me!! Then the....next one did it, too!! Over and over, they did it! I lost count as it blended in my mind. Four of them did cum in me!! I felt it! Not one was gentle." He moaned his voice barely understandable. "I wanted to die!!"
"Me, too," Milo said to his husband. "I wanted to die, too. It wasn't your fault."
"It was!" Bren said. "You performed oral sex to save me, but..."
"You're my angel, Bren. I had to do it." Milo said. "They would hurt you."
"I know! They did hurt me!" Bren said. "After they were done physically...I was just...waiting for them to kill me. I wanted them to kill me. I felt...it was cold metal. He was...shoving his...handgun barrel...in my ass!! I prayed he'd pull the trigger!" He drank some more and we heard more being added. "I don't know how long that lasted...but...the one that hit me in the face...took his rifle...laughing saying it was time for the big gun. It...it...it was so hard!! He was brutal! He shoved it in me so hard." He voice was getting louder as he told them. "I felt...my inside...he...tore my insides. I felt it! It hurt so badly!! He did it again and again and again..." Bren confessed. "I was dizzy again. I thought I was going to die. I welcomed death. It would end! All of it." He faltered again. "There was this...boom," Bren said. "It didn't even enter my mind to wonder what it was, but...a fire. It was one of the offices...I was feeling faint. Blood was oozing out of me. I felt that, too. I remember Milo pulling me up and saying we were leaving. We had to get away now. I was dizzy and sick, but he put what was left of my pants on me and was dragging us somewhere..."
"Okay!" Dr. Lowenstein said quickly. "Bren." You heard someone walk and the sound of a kiss and the sound of fabric on fabric as she hugged him. "I say, that's enough. You did beautifully!"
"But I'm not done," Bren said weakly.
"No, you're not." Dr. Lowenstein said, her voice a little muffled as she probably hugged him. "What you just told me...that was a major step to healing. That was a major hurdle you've cleared. Now, you got it out and time to move on. It's in the past, Bren. Hear me! None of this was your fault!" There was a hesitation, so Dr. Lowenstein pressed on. "Not one of those horrible events was your fault. I want you to say it."
"I...I...can't," Bren said softly. "They hurt Milo because..."
"No," Dr. Lowenstein interrupted. "They hurt Milo and you because they could, it wasn't Milo's or your faults. When you can say it and truly believe it, that will be closer to healing. You just took a major step forward!"
"I don't feel like it is," Bren said.
"This wasn't a quick fix, Bren." Dr. Lowenstein said. "You will probably fall back into these episodes, but a part of your mind knows...or is beginning to know...it's done. It's the past. I will help you; I promise. You will heal. Now, go with your husband and go home. Rest. Rest in the knowledge that you are loved by this man with you. He is your husband. We'll pick up from here, later. Okay?"
You heard Bren swallow again, probably the last of his second whiskey. "Okay."
"Bren," Milo said. "I don't want to hear again how you are weak or are not brave," Milo said kindly, softly, but firmly. "That...was so bold of you. I love you, Bren."
"I love you, too, Milo. I always have." Bren said as again the sound of fabric and against fabric.
"Let's go home," Milo said.
Dr. Lowenstein gave the time and date.
Peter and I had listened, but I saw things around us were blurry. I wiped my face with my hand to clear the tears off my face. I felt Peter press his lips to my head silently as he tightened his arms around me. I turned to face him more directly kissing him deeply. I wanted him, yes, but I wanted to convey how much I loved him and appreciated we were free to do so.
"Those two suffered a lot," I said softly. "Far worse than the protesters out front or even gay-bashing."
"Yes, they did." Peter agreed. "I'm getting to understand why Makarovia is what it became."
"Those two and the many others...are what made Makarovia what it is. They need to have their voices heard." I said.
"They will be heard." Peter embraced me. "Make love to me."
I chuckled rubbing our foreheads together. "I was going to ask you to with me." I got up and pulled him to his feet. "One of us will make love to the other. We'll be more comfortable in bed."
In our bed...that comfortable warm place we shared. We did make love. I started with him and he made love to me. It was one of those slow, loving moments I will cherish every time. When we were done this time; there were no gasps for breath, no regulating of hearts. There was the afterglow as we cuddled together, knowing we loved each other. Telling again:
"I love you, Eric," Peter said softly.
"I know you do," I said sincerely. "I love you, Peter."
"I know."
As sad as what Peter and I had heard had been. We knew that Milo and Bren had celebrated many years together in Makarovia. Now, however, I found a new reason to celebrate Makarovia's Thanksgiving. There was so much to be thankful for. It wasn't just because of the many homosexuals there. There was Dr. Lowenstein who suffered, too. She was brilliant, but because she was female she struggled to become a doctor!? Added the fact she was Jewish!? She understood more than most modern psychologists and physiatrists knew today. There were Jews that remained in Makarovia. Most did go elsewhere after the war ended. They were welcome in Makarovia. We had some Gypsies that stayed. There was just so much to be thankful for.
Entering the kitchen, there was Boris cooking something. It smelled wonderful.
"That smells great!" Peter said.
Boris looked up smiling with a nod. "A little Makarovian Breakfast Hash. It's easier as I use one pot to make it. I've got a million things to do for tomorrow." He said but was pleased. "I will make it spectacular!"
"You don't do anything that isn't. We'll help you, Boris." I said.
"Then, make your own coffee." Boris grinned as he pointed to the coffee maker with the utensil he was cooking with. "And stay out of my way."
"Boris!" Peter said surprised but smiled. "That almost sounded...a little bitchy."
"Good for you!" I said quickly very happy he was.
Boris shrugged. "I'll be busy." He waved at the table. "I have to get some things from the market and prepare..."
"Yes, of course, you do. We have hired help, Boris." Peter pointed out.
"No," Boris said sharply and quickly. "No. I buy for the family." He put some of his hash on a couple of plates. "Now, eat." He ordered putting plates on the table.
"Okay," I said to all he just said. "I'll just...make the coffees." I was pleased that Boris was comfortable enough with us now to act more like a member of the family. I went to Boris, hugged him quickly as he worked and helped him with the plates and then made the coffees. Grandmother came down shortly thereafter and did the same thing.
"Is that Ukrainian Hash I smell?" She asked.
Boris cocked his head frowning. "I forgive you this time. It's Makarovian Hash. Ukrainians used smoked sausage, I use two kinds of sausage and a few other spices. Let's say...it's a little spicier than Ukrainian Hash."
Grandmother smiled. "Oh, excuse me. It smells wonderful. I'll have some of your Makarovian Hash."
I grinned at what was happening as I made our coffees. "You want a latte, Grandma?"
"Sure," She nodded sitting down as Peter brought her the steaming plate. "Hot, not cold like yours."
We had a nice day! The situation here was...getting so much better, for me. I was completely at home here. The newness of my situation was gone. The people here were my family. Boris, despite his words about how busy he would be...loved it. You saw it on his face! I am telling you the truth. What others would consider a challenge and feel the pressure to do a great job, Boris was smiling as he worked. No, you didn't want to get in his way. He had it all planned in his mind when to do what and coordinated to do just that. Even Yuri knew better than to get in Boris' way.
The next day was not much better in that, Boris again had things in his mind to do and when to do it. Like I said before, this was his domain. He was in charge of the house and especially in the kitchen. He was organized. Others there on staff offered to help, but one look from Boris and they backed off. I loved seeing that tongue of his sort of go to the side of his mouth as he worked. Our Thanksgiving Dinner was almost ready to happen.
It was three o'clock when we were told to gather at the table. Not in the kitchen or the formal dining room, but the one the family used. Remember? Across the hall from the formal dining room, but near the kitchen...but we saw Yuri doing something with a TV screen. It was big, but not one of the really big ones...35 inches was my guess.
"Are we watching TV?" Peter asked Yuri.
"No," Yuri stood smiling as he typed quickly on a keyboard. "Someone else wanted to be here."
The screen came to life and there were Olek and Helga! "Hello, Dear family!" Olek said greeting us.
"Olek!" Peter smiled seeing his brother and looked at his watch. "Isn't it late there?"
Olek looked surprised. "Ten o'clock, that's not too late."
"It's good to see you two." I said to the TV. I saw the camera set up to send our image to Olek and Helga.
"Olek and I would love to be there, so this was the best we could think of to do," Helga explained.
"This is the first Makarovian Thanksgiving," Olek said.
"I think I know, but why wasn't there one before?" I asked.
Olek didn't even hesitate. "We had different thanksgivings, depending on who was in charge. We had the Ukrainian Thanksgiving, the Romanian Thanksgiving and lastly the Soviet's version of Thanksgiving sort of." He shrugged. "This is the first Makarovian Thanksgiving."
"Eric and I are discovering more reasons to celebrate our own Thanksgiving," Peter said as we moved to our places at the elegant table.
"I agree." I nodded. "There were reasons before, but..." thinking how to word what say what I meant, "Makarovia is stepping out in the world. We're known now by the world. For the uranium, yes, but also known for its place that came about during and after that horrible war. Not for just us," I took Peter's hand, "a lot of people had nowhere to go but were welcomed in Makarovia. Peter and I have heard from two that came there and...it was pretty grisly to hear, but...they were happy, in Makarovia. That was true for many Jews, Gypsies and others that came there. I have the recordings I can send you, Olek...Helga...it's not pretty. In fact, it's very sad. Their victory was Makarovian. With the help of a brilliant woman, a Jew, who also escaped, she helped not only Bren and Milo but many others. I am thankful for Makarovia. I'm thankful for some brilliance of kings that were self-sacrificing both now and in the past; leadership that deserves recognition. You, Olek, have been so vital for what's happening in Makarovia now. No longer are people asking, Makarovia? Where the Hell is that!? They now know where we are. More important that they know what we are. For that, I am very thankful. Makarovia is the shining example to follow in their tolerance of all people, regardless of their differences. The world will see that."
Olek nodded with a growing smile. "This will be the beginning of an annual event in Makarovia. We will have our own Thanksgiving from now on."
It was nice. Having Olek and Helga there even by way of the computer was pretty good. Peter and I would see them in a few weeks. I was warned again by Olek, that it was very cold there. Being told and prepared was not the same thing. Peter and I insisted that both Boris and Yuri were to join us. No arguments. This was going to be a Makarovian Holiday, they were Makarovian. Of course, they had to join us. This time, the men from the United States came inside and stood for our Makarovian guards so they could have this holiday, too. The dinner was very good! The company was excellent.
The new week was starting and grandmother had to go home. She stood with her luggage as it was taken to the vehicle to take her to the airport.
She smiled at me and Peter. "I will be there a week before the wedding, but..." she shook her head. "I can barely stand the weather here in Boston now." She chuckled. "Makarovia's elevation and conditions there now...I won't be there for Christmas or New Year's."
"We can come to you when we get back," I said weakly knowing it would be difficult with security.
She nodded. "It will be hard to do. I don't think that will be a good idea." She said understanding. "I will come to you in the spring." She gave a nodding shrug. "I might join you before you go to Makarovia and fly with you?"
I nodded. "That would be great."
"Of course, with that computer hookup, we can see and talk to each other whenever we like." Grandmother said hugging me. "I'll see you soon. I will miss you. You call me when you get there." She hugged Peter. "I love you, Peter." She said to him. "I can see the love you have for Eric." She said to him. "You're a good man, Peter. I'm proud to have you in my family." She said kissing him on the cheek.
"Thank you, Grandmother." Peter hugged her back. "We'll keep in touch." He promised.
Monday came! Finals. That week was...very tense. I went over the material. I never crammed. If I didn't know it by now, I'd never pass the exams. I reviewed to freshen what I had learned. I had to convince Peter to do the same thing.
"You know it, Peter," I said calmly to him as he studied beside me. "You can give it in English and Makarovian. Review what you know, don't stress about it."
He sighed. "Well, I am stressed!"
I nodded. "No," I said putting the textbook he had on the floor I moved closer to him on the couch. "That stress will not help you remember," I said. "It will make you doubt and forget. Keep your mind clear and be calm. You know all this." I grinned. "Do I help you deal with that?"
He smiled. "And how are you going to do that?"
I moved to straddle his lap. "I can do all sorts of things. I did it before that interview with Anderson Cooper." I said as my eyebrows danced.
Peter chuckled. "You do that often every day. I do it for you every day."
"My doing it won't help before you take the test?" I asked.
Peter chuckled with a shrug. "It won't hurt. We do have different exam times."
I nodded. "I'll be there," I promised kissing him tenderly.
"I will be there for you, too," Peter said returning the kiss as he hands came up my back.
I know you know it by now. I love this man. Loving was no longer alien to us...it never really was, but now...it was just natural. Just a normal expression of what we both felt.
That week was...intense! As promised, I was there for Peter and he was there for me. Having contact with each other before the tests did not hurt.
It was as we packed and soon leaving, Don Wilson came to us.
"Okay," He smiled. "You are confirmed to go on the Ellen DeGeneres show when you get back." He said handing us a piece of paper that said the date and time we were to be there. "Hotel and travel are on there, but I think the transportation is a private one. They will be supervised by Yuri on rule compliance." He handed another sheet of paper. "The Graham Norton show is later, just before you go back to Makarovia in May. Yuri is coordinating the transportation there." He smiled. "You two are in great demand."
I nodded looking at the papers. "Because we're getting married."
"Sure," Don said quickly. "You have a lot of people that are supporting you. Including me! I'm not gay, but...I see this as getting the world aware that all people have rights and...I've seen you two. Just that first day, I could see it. I always prided myself in seeing love is love, but...you two certainly are in love. It is a momentous step forward."
Peter nodded extending his hand to Don. "Thank you."
We took off for Makarovia. All the preparations said did not even come close when we landed. When we landed, it was night and stepping off the plane. Oh, my god! It was freezing!! Below freezing, I found out. I was warned, I was, but damn! The temperature was bad enough, but there was wind! I was told it was five degrees below zero. I didn't care if that was in Celsius or Fahrenheit. It was cold! Greeting us were three bears!! Not the story ones, but they looked like bears! Heavy fur coats on. Those thick fur covered hats where the fur moved in the wind. I had no idea who was who. Two of them had furs in their hands. One came forward and as he got closer, I saw it was Olek. He handed me one of those furs.
"I warned you," Olek said to me smiling as I shivered and he held the coat up for me to put on. The other was held by a guard who handed the coat to Peter.
"You did," I nodded as I put the fur on. "Normally, I would object to a fur. PETA be damned, if this does the trick, I'll be happy to wear it."
"They kept the animal warm that wore it, It will work for you." Olek chuckled and placed another smaller fur on my head and pulled it down. "Winters here are not for the faint of heart...or..."
"...the unprepared," I said with Olek who nodded.
Olek chuckled again. "That's right," Olek said.
The coat did cut the sharpness of the wind and it did warm things a little, but it was still freezing.
"I'll hug you when I can get to you," I said to Olek. "Helga is at the palace?"
"She is, as is Alla," Olek said and waved to the SUV. "They're waiting...where it's warm."
The trip back to the palace was very nice. There was evidence that snow had been pushed to the sides of the road. I was pleased as we got into Stryia, there was snow building up, but not as much on the streets. They had worked to have those heating elements installed. It was working...a little. It was almost a losing battle against the snow, but it cut down that build up. What I also noticed, were the Christmas lights in Stryia. It was cold out, but they strung up lights that were burning merrily in the night. Trees that were in the city were decorated, too, but were snow covered but twinkled lights. There wasn't much traffic.
"The tunnels are used now." Olek explained as I looked at the festive lights. "There is a lot more underground. They decorate more down there."
I nodded. "I can't wait to see it."
It wasn't snowing now. The air was clear, the stars added to the lights around.
"You will be here for our Christmas?" Olek asked.
"January the 7th?" I asked. "Yes."
Olek nodded. "Good."
"I know, Eastern Orthodox begins the Christmas season on the 25th. The twelve days of Christmas begins." I said to him.
"That's right." Olek nodded again. "Of course, there are the others in Makarovia celebrating Hanukkah this month and others. There are elements of Romanian Christmas, like the Christmas Pig on St. Ignat's Day, that's on the 20th of December. We combined St. Nick with Svyatyy Mykolay."
I nodded again. "They are the same person also called Did Moroz. I did my research. I'm aware of the combining of cultures of both Ukraine and Romania. I'll get used to it."
The trip back to the palace was not quick enough. The driver had those spiked things on the tires to grip the ice and snow covered roads, so he drove slower, but well. Even with the heat on in the SUV, it still cold, but at least out of the wind. Once through the stone gate, we came into the covered area of the fortress area and got out quickly. Once in the fortress, we rode up the elevator to the palace. I now understood more and appreciated the smaller rooms with low ceilings. They held the heat! Those grand rooms like the gathering area and the ballroom were hard to keep warm! Those rooms were not freezing, but they were cool...about fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Once in the palace, we went to the family room where it was warm. Olek took his heavy fur coat off. Three gentlemen came and took our coats to hang up...wherever they were kept. It was then Olek grabbed Peter and hugged him. I looked to see Mom and Helga waiting and was hugged by both of them.
Olek let Peter go and came to me. "Welcome home, Eric." He greeted and kissed me on the cheek. "Merry Christmas...early."
I nodded as he held me. "Thank you, Olek. It is home for me now." I assured him.
"You're tired from the trip," Olek said without asking if we were. "You know where your room is. It is ready now. We'll see you in the morning."
Peter took my hand. "We will need to rest and get used to the time change." He looked at his mother and Helga. "We are together as a family. I can't tell you how happy that makes me."
"Yes," Mom smiled at her son. "We are family."
We went up the stairs to our rooms. Again, I appreciated the design of the room now. I saw the thick fur over our bed and liked it was there. The fireplace was blazing and there were vents that blew the rising warm air into the room. It was pretty toasty! There were the extra pieces of wood for in the morning, but it was fine now.
"This is our home," Peter said to me. "A home we will live in together from now on. I want you happy."
I smiled looking away slightly and then turned back to him. "Peter. I am home. I am happy. You're here, with me. I love you."
He leaned in kissing me. "I know you do." His arms slipped around me. "I adore you, Eric."
I grinned as his lips traveled over my lips, down my face and to that place on my neck he knew well. "I believe you, two hundred percent."
He chuckled. "Now, to make love in Makarovian winter." He grinned as he pulled my shirt to pull it out of my pants.
"Why? Is it different?" I smiled.
He pointed to the bed. "Well, yes. You will like it better under that."
I nodded pulling him toward the bed. "Let's not talk about it and get under there."
The bed was covered and...we did make love. It warmed things up pretty well! I again fell asleep with Peter spooned behind me. This is the way things were supposed to be.