************************************ Title: The King's Favorite - Chapter One Author: Parlance, Copyright (c) 2001. Email: par_lance1@yahoo.com Website: http://www.geocities.com/par_lance1 Feedback appreciated. Flames will be used to melt eyeliner. Pairings: Chris/JC, Chris/Babyface, some mention of Lance/Justin, Christina/Britney Rating: R for sexual situations, naughty language and explicit details of a grooming ritual. Classification: Slash. AU/Fantasy. Definite angst. Some humor. Archive: Please ask fist.
Disclaimer: This story contains homosexual themes, gender play and lovely, hot men having lovely, hot sex. The series takes place amid the backdrop of an environment of enforced slavery, though the relations depicted in this particular story are consensual. If that offends you, you're not old enough to be reading it in your jurisdiction, or you cringe at the sight of high-falutin' medieval prose, flee.
This is fiction. I know nuthin' 'bout nobody. I especially don't presume to know nor care about the sexual preferences of *Nsync, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera or Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds.
Cast of main characters/name changes:
Christopher - Chris Joshua - JC Kenneth I - Babyface Lansten - Lance Justin - same Brittany - Britney Christina - same Joseph - Joey
Author's Note: This story is set in the Lyris universe, an alternate universe fantasy world I created years ago. There've been many characters and lately I decided it's *Nsync's time to play. Set on Earth during the Middle Ages, but in a mythical land. Suspend your beliefs about race, color, gender and sexual preference because the only prejudices here are based on class. Slavery is legal and forms the socio-economic background for this society.
There are three genders - the third is a cross between the male and female gender known as transsexuals, or "transies" for short. They have the faces and voices of men, but the bodies of women and can reproduce. Lansten is one of them.
Timeline: This is the third Lyris story I have written - never expect me to write chronologically. ;-> But it takes place a few months before "Idle Pleasures." You don't necessarily have to read the other stories - I try to write self-contained installments - but it may be helpful.
Glossary: "Slibling" is a cross between "slave" and "siblings." It is a term of affection used to refer to slaves who live together.
A shout out to Brandi - it's all her fault. To Karen for beta'ing. And to Sarah, Lois and Cat for reading when it was still a WIP.
Dedication: To Sammie, my favorite audience. :-D
Kick
Kick, kick
Pause.
Christopher waited a long time in the darkness. Only the dim light of a crescent moon illuminated the room.
When nothing else happened, after awhile he closed his eyes.
Kick
Christopher opened his eyes again. He was sleeping at the foot of King Kenneth's bed, as he often did. The king liked having Christopher there to warm his feet as might a devoted pet as he slept, and Christopher liked knowing that he pleased the king often enough to share his bed.
The only problem was that the king was a kicker.
Christopher sighed, knowing he would have black and blue marks on his back by morning. And the servants would look pitifully upon him, certain that he was being abused. If they only knew. But Christopher shared the real reason with no one, except for those closest to him in the harem - and that admission came only after his concerned friends had hounded him for an explanation.
But there were so many more secrets about the king Christopher held fast to his heart, ones he did not share with his friends. He would die with them. He knew that his discretion was one of the many reasons he remained the king's favorite slave.
Christopher shifted his position and slept as close to the edge of the master bed as he could without falling. He remembered the one night he did fall, accidentally taking some of the king's comforter with him. He had been far too deep in his dreams to realize what had happened, and the king awoke to find his dearest slave curled on the Persian rug, tightly clutching a piece of a blanket in his hand. Chuckling and quieting the terrified slave's profuse apologies, he took Christopher in his arms and allowed him to sleep beside him for the rest of the night. It was a rare luxury, and a sign of the king's affection for him, a mere slave.
Christopher cherished this sweet memory as his eyelids grew heavy with sleep.
The king awoke, as always, just before dawn. In an instant, an attendant was at his side to offer a chamber pot and hold a robe for him to slip into. Just as quickly, Christopher's groom, a thin brown-haired transie named Alan collected the slave to bathe and otherwise prepare him for the day.
Alan had already drawn a steaming bath for his charge.
Before helping him into the bath, he carefully removed Christopher's earrings and nose ring so he could clean them while Christopher soaked in the fragrant water, which today smelled faintly of rose hips. He removed the sheer slip of silk around Chris' hips - the only clothing that slaves were allowed to wear in the castle. Being the king's personal slave, however, Chris's silks were adorned with the tiniest jewels as befit his status.
Such was now Christopher's life as the pampered slave of a king. He had come a very long way from being plucked from the ranks of slaves in training to become the king's court jester, and finally his personal slave. When he was not sleeping in the bed of the leader of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the known world, he slept on a pallet of silk and down. He ate well, better than some freemen in the village. The king spoiled him with exotic gifts and sweets from faraway lands. He had his own groom who, unlike the other grooms, was solely dedicated to the care of one pleasure slave.
"And with good reason," Alan would often say. "I have enough on my hands chasing after you."
Christopher never let himself forget he was not always this fortunate. Like all the slaves, he had been educated and trained to conduct himself as a royal slave since he was a child. He had learned to recite poetry, sing the songs and dance the dances that would entertain the royal court. He was also trained to cook, clean and sew, and as he grew older he helped care for the younger slaves. It was not until a slave turned 14 that he or she was chosen to be trained in a specialty - as a pleasure slave, groom, a stable slave, a gardener, or the myriad of other responsibilities needed to maintain the castle.
Every young slave in the castle grew up hoping to be a pleasure slave. They saw only the leisurely and glamourous lifestyle they seemed to lead and coveted it for themselves. But Christopher was not considered handsome in the conventional sense, and he was not chosen to be a pleasure slave.
"Your face is too round," he was told by his trainers.
"Your nose is too pinched. Your eyes are that of an imp. Your build is too broad. And you are too short.
Better to concentrate on your other skills, lad. Only the most beautiful and handsome and graceful are chosen as pleasure slaves, and you will never make for one."
Christopher smiled to himself as he remembered these words. How sheepish they looked when he in fact became the most exalted slave in the land. Those very same detractors now rushed to care for his every whim.
And so long as he continued to please the king, such would be his life. Even when he was too old to be attractive and useful to the king, the king would ensure that he would be provided for in luxury.
When he had not been chosen to be a pleasure slave, Christopher was assigned to be an attendant to the king, a job which consisted mostly of fanning the king and filling his cup with drink on demand. He managed to capture the king's attention shortly afterwards.
"Concentrate on your other skills, lad." Christopher took these words to heart. All his life, he had the ability to make his fellow slaves and his trainers laugh. He mastered the art of telling a good story. His humor often helped him escape punishment when he made mistakes. He had learned early on that he had a powerful tool at his disposal, and he determined that he would rise above the ranks by using it.
As an attendant, Christopher had the advantage of spending more time in the presence of the king than most. He noticed what amused the king, and committed to memory what did not. He struck up a friendship with an older freeman who was the court jester at the time, who was more than happy to teach Christopher sleight-of-hand magic tricks. Christopher entertained him in return with jokes he had perfected.
Two years later, when the king's jester became too old to continue, he did not hesitate to suggest Christopher as his successor. The suggestion was considered a scandal.
"A mere slave be made court jester? Next you will be wanting to knight one of them!" one of the courtiers had cried as the others laughed. Everything from imprisonment to stoning was demanded to punish the jester for his impudence.
When King Kenneth received word of the jester's proposal, he surprised all of his court, by demanding that Christopher give a performance. Never had the slave been so nervous. His friend, the jester, however, had only the strongest faith in his apprentice, and had provided encouragement and calming words the night before.
"Do not worry. Just imagine the king is simply another one of your friends and you will be fine."
"Perhaps not. I do not think the king would be amused to find a horny toad in his breeches."
"Well, perhaps you should save that one for later." The jester smiled. "Christopher, you cannot help but make others laugh. Your mere presence brings a smile to the lips of your masters. You will most definitely be able to amuse the king."
"Easy for you to say. It will not be your head on a platter if I do not succeed." Christopher argued.
"O, but it will, my friend," the jester had replied. "You forget that only freemen are considered fit for beheading. Perhaps for you it will merely be stoning or disembowelment. Or maybe a soldering iron in the-"
"Thank you, sir. I beseech you now to cease your attempts to cheer me."
The day of his performance, Christopher had expected to perform for the entire court. Instead, he was led a room where the king would be his only audience. Christopher gulped. He would not have the benefit of anyone else's laughter to sway the king.
Christopher ceremoniously bowed before the king until his head touched the floor, as his friend had taught him. He took a deep breath and performed. But he did not begin with jokes. His friend had wisely suggested that he avoid them at the start of his performance. For court jesters were known for their skewering wit, and it was their foolish appearance and manner that they were allowed to carry them off. But for a slave to be so bold would be a dire mistake.
Christopher had the advantage of an extremely agile frame. He had often entertained his friends in the courtyard with somersaults and flips, and could pretend to fall comically without injuring himself. This ability he used to entertain the king. Only when the king was already chuckling, did he give the king milder riddles.
Outside the room various courtiers and servants were listening through the doors of the drawing room. They were met with the roaring laughter of the king. The next day, the royal clothier was ordered to create a jester outfit befitting a slave.
Christopher had been named court jester at the age of 16 and remained so for five years, often entertaining visiting dignitaries and learning far more complicated tricks as juggling swords and swallowing fire. When Christopher turned 21, the king retired his personal slave and named Christopher his successor. It had been six years since and the king showed no signs of tiring of his slave.
Christopher stored his jester hat in a small chest. Occasionally he would take the hat out and admire it and remember fondly his friend, now laid to rest, who had extended his hand to a slave.
As Christopher soaked in his tub, he bent his head back until he was looking behind him, upside down. With those impish brown eyes, he watched his groom return to scrub him and smiled to himself. As soon as Alan began to bathe him, he flicked him with water. Alan ignored him and scrubbed him even harder. "Ow, careful!" Christopher cried. Flicks turned into handfuls, and by the time he was finished bathing the slave, the poor groom himself was soaked.
"Brat!" Alan invoked the name he used to refer to Christopher several times each day. "Now my own silk is drenched! Why do I put up with you?!"
"Because you enjoy my wit and clever repartee. Besides, you are hopelessly smitten with me."
Alan's eyes rolled heavenward. "Hmph. Right, I forget. How silly of me."
Next, he was shaved. The king liked for his pleasure slaves to be clean shaven, for facial hair was generally associated with the maturity of grown men, and pleasure slaves were viewed as something akin to children. Nevertheless, the king allowed himself the indulgence of allowing Christopher to keep a goatee, which was now being neatly trimmed. Afterwards, Alan shaved what little body hair had been allowed to grow the day before - this the king insisted upon. Christopher hated this part of his grooming most of all, even more so than the internal cleansing Alan was required to give him each day. Alan was careful, but he was always aware that one nick was enough to take him out of commission.
"Be still!" Alan cried as Christopher squirmed. Christopher was now lying on a pallet in his bathing room, holding his buttocks high in the air and was separating the cheeks as Alan carefully shaved him. "In all the years I have had to misfortune to groom you, have I ever done you harm?"
"No. But my suspicion that such might be a source of amusement for you is enough to bring fear to my heart."
"Mmmm. You read my mind only too well. But given a choice between my amusement and my life, I will always choose the latter."
Alan last adorned Christopher with his rings and dressed him in a fresh silk. He then affectionately patted the pleasure slave on his rump.
"Come. Do not dawdle. The king wants you at his side by the pool during breakfast."
The king's pool was made of somewhat porous stone, and constantly had to be refilled by slaves with jugs of water taken from the spring that ran freely along the edge of the castle grounds. The king was sitting at a table on the grass beside the pool, being fanned with palm leaves by two slaves. His breakfast sat before him, but, never one to sit idle, he was busy signing a document and placing the royal seal on the paper. He handed the document to a waiting tribute.
"Have this delivered immediately." The tribute bowed and made haste.
Christopher approached the handsome king, accompanied by Alan, and knelt before him. He kissed the top of the king's boots in greeting.
"Good morning, Christopher." The king did not even glance at his slave, but there was approval in his voice. Christopher always thrilled at the sound of his name spoken in the king's smooth, comforting voice.
"Good morning, Master." Most of the king's servants and subjects were required to address the king as "Your Majesty" or "Sire" or "My king." In all of the kingdom, only Christopher called him his master.
Christopher's breakfast, a bowl of bread and cheese, was laid out at the king's feet. Christopher was certain, however, that he would be required to entertain the king before he would be allowed to eat.
"Christopher, I should like to see you in the pool for a bit."
Christopher nodded and did not hesitate to slip off his silk wrap, which was smoothly taken away and folded by Alan. Christopher slipped into the pool - thankfully, the water was warm today. He turned on his back and floated, his eyes never leaving the king.
After his taster had let it be known that the food was safe to eat, the king turned his attention to the meal before him, but occasionally would glance in Chris' direction.
Chris turned on his front so he could swim across the length of the pool and allow the king to appreciate the sight of his naked sinews exerting themselves as he swam. He imagined that the king had his eyes trained on his round ass as he bobbed and dipped just under the surface of the pool. Like all the pleasure slaves, Chris was given a daily regimen of exercise. Though he was careful not to show it, he was proud of his body, and enjoyed preening for his master. He knew his master reveled in the sight of his gleaming body, and that was why he often had Christopher join him at the pool during breakfast. He was but a toy, and Christopher readily accepted this fact.
"Christopher."
Christopher heard his name being called, and swam to the edge of the pool where the king ate his breakfast.
His dark brown hair clung to his head and his eyelashes were matted together from the water. He rested his chin on his arms as he waited for the king to address him.
The king did not speak, but took a fig from a bowl and, splitting it in half, he reached down to feed it to Chris. King Kenneth watched intently as Christopher closed his eyes, savoring the sumptuous treat. The king was even kind enough to take the seed from Christopher's mouth and discard it. He fed another fig to Christopher, who this time dared to dart the tip of his tongue and swirl it around the king's fingers. The king allowed this and ran his thumb along Christopher's lips as the slave chewed and swallowed, following the king's movements with mischievous eyes.
"Oh, yes. You want this, and so much more, my little slut." Christopher moaned as the king invoked his pet name for the slave. "But later, much later. I will be very busy today. You are free to play with your friends. But tonight, you will be mine." The king bent to kiss him, and Christopher propped himself on the edge of the pool to accept the kiss. He opened his mouth just barely as the king sucked on his bottom lip. His sex grew erect and strained against the wall of the pool. All too soon, however, the king withdrew from the kiss, leaving the slave panting, his eyes dark with longing and desire.
The king chuckled and left the pool, as a handful of attendants and slaves followed respectfully behind him. Christopher remained with his head resting on his arms, willing his member to grow soft, until the king had reentered the castle. After a few moments, he emerged from the pool. Alan quickly appeared with a towel and tied his jeweled silk wrap around his hips. He then crawled to his bowl and and ate his breakfast in silence.
Once finished, Christopher completed his morning exercises, mostly consisting of a run around the castle grounds where slaves were allowed with the king's two beloved Great Danes.
After his exercises, he approached Alan who dried off the sweat on his body. Christopher told him, "Master said I could go play with my friends today."
"Fine," said Alan. "But if you go anywhere else, please do tell me. Do not roll your eyes at me. The last time the king told me to fetch you and I did not know where you were, he was furious with me, not you. At least give me that much consideration."
Christopher hung his head. "I am sorry. I do not mean to cause you pain. It is just such a bother."
"Not as much of a bother as the king's temper." Alan smoothed out Christopher's hair with his fingers. "Now go."
Christopher walked down the hall where most of the pleasure slaves lived. He came to a stop at the entrance of one, and was greeted with the joyous cries of his six closest friends with whom he rarely had the fortune of spending time because he was normally occupied with entertaining the king. Each of them were younger than he was, some by more than five years. He had followed each of them all of their lives as they were trained and had grown from wide-eyed innocents to the beautiful, self-aware pleasures slaves they had become.
One of them, a blonde girl named Brittany, jumped over to Christopher and kissed him on the lips. Her lover, Christina, another blonde affectionately known as her Twin, shyly approached Christopher with a smile. He hugged her, knowing better than to show any more affection than this. And while Christina was genuinely happy to see him, she returned the hug stiffly. The king's slave could expect nothing more from Christina - who had come to Lyris as a prisoner of war - considering that his master had been responsible for much of the pain in her life.
Lansten, a blonde transie, was sitting on the floor as Joseph, his dark-haired groom, applied coloring to his face. Lansten was careful not to move and instead waved cheerfully at Christopher, as Joseph nodded in his direction with a smile. Sitting next to the transie and his groom was Lansten's lover Justin, a village slave who was allowed to visit Lansten at the end of each week in return for services as a pleasure slave. He stood and greeted Christopher with a kiss on the lips. Lastly, Joshua, a dark-haired blue-eyed slave Christopher had always found devastatingly attractive, stood up from his place on his pallet where he had been sitting yoga-style and kissed his friend warmly.
"It is good to see you, Christopher."
"Mmmm, I like coming here," said Christopher, as he hugged Joshua. "I get smiles and kisses from beautiful slaves as if I am royalty."
"But you are royalty, Christopher," Brittany responded with a chuckle. "Your visits are so few and far between, they are not unlike receiving a dignitary."
"And of course I must leave," Lansten lamented. "I have been called for by Lady Janet."
"Lady Janet?" Christina asked. "That is the second time this week you have been called for by her, is it not?"
"Well, that sounds promising," Joshua commented as he returned to his pallet. There he had, laid on a cloth before him, a meticulously sorted array of beads and small pebbles of various colors and sizes.
"Mayhap. I am not getting my hopes up," Lansten said.
Joseph shook his head. "I do not know why this is always a subject of constant concern. You ducks all have a few years in you before you have to worry about someone taking care of you in your old days. You must not worry so," he admonished his charges.
"I always worry, Da. A pleasure slave would be a fool to do otherwise, lest one end up discarded and useless in the forest. Am I done?" Lansten asked Joseph.
"Yes. Oh, Lansten - do not muss your-" Before Joseph could finish, Lansten had jumped up and kissed Christopher firmly on the cheek. Some of the dark red color from his lips had rubbed onto the other slave's cheek. Lansten rubbed it firmly into both of his cheeks and grinned.
"Now you have some rouge. The king will like it - it will seem as if you are blushing."
"Lansten, come here." Joseph reapplied some of the lipstick to the transie's lips.
"Easy, there," Christopher told the exasperated groom.
"You already have enough to last until the next solstice."
"Lady Janet likes her coloring, and she seems to like to see how hard she can make a slave work before it fades," Joseph muttered as Lansten giggled. "All right, now you are done. Let us not keep her waiting.
I will see you later, Christopher." Joseph quickly kissed Christopher on the cheek before he led the transie down the hall.
"We were just about to go outside to the courtyard, Christopher," Christina began. "Would you like to join us?"
"Oh, I-" Christopher stumbled as he glanced at Joshua, who was busily stringing beads. "I just told Alan that I would be here visiting."
"That is all right, Christopher," Brittany told him. "Justin, you should become more acquainted with the gardens. Lansten told us you take care of one back in the village. Hopefully Christopher will be here when we return."
"I am certain I will. I do not believe the king expects me back in his quarters until supper."
"Ah - yes. Why not?" Justin had hoped to spend time with Joshua himself, but he sensed he was being maneuvered away from him by Brittany.
They walked down the hallway, Justin walking arm-in-arm between the Twins. Once she was certain they could not be heard, Christina began, "Joshua likes silence when he is making one of his precious necklaces. He becomes cross otherwise. He is not much fun when he is beading."
"Anyway," Brittany interjected, "Christopher should have his chance to be alone with Joshua since has taken a liking towards him."
"Really?" Christina opened her round blue eyes even wider. "How have you come to know this?"
"He told me."
"Why did he not tell me?" Christina asked, perturbed.
Brittany turned to her lover and cocked her head to the side. "I do not know. I assumed he had."
"Perhaps you should not have revealed this news," Justin suggested.
"Nonsense. We are family. We do not have secrets. I do not know why Christopher does not simply tell Joshua. After all, we have known about you and Joshua for ages."
Justin stopped in his tracks. "M-me? How?"
"Lansten told us," Christina explained matter-of-factly. "He told us about that day the three of you spent in your barn. We were wondering why you have not laid down with him since you have been here."
"Oh." Justin blushed and nervously ran his fingers through his auburn locks at the thought that half the slaves in the castle might know about his sexual escapades.
As if reading his thoughts, Christina continued. "But everything is kept between us and Christopher. And Joseph does not care to hear such gossip."
The trio had reached the back entrance which led to the courtyard where the pleasure slaves mingled during the day. "Anyway, we will make sure you have time alone with Joshua again soon," Brittany told Justin sagely.
"Ummm. Thank you?" Justin responded, still in shock.
"But of course," the Twins replied in unison.
"Do you mind that I sit here with you?" Christopher asked Joshua, who was concentrating intently on his work.
Joshua did not look up from his project. "No, not at all."
Christopher sat down cross-legged across from him. "I know you do not like to be bothered when you are beading."
Joshua smiled. "I just do not like the constant chatter and giggling that usually takes place in this room. Lansten and the Twins can be fairly boisterous together. But I hope I do not come across as an ogre about it. This room is as much theirs as it is mine."
Christopher nodded, more to himself since Joshua only saw his beads. Joshua had an impressive collection of beads and small stones from around the known world, all gifts from various "suitors" - free men, women and transies whom he had entertained on more than one occasion. Sometimes when a freeman was especially pleased with a pleasure slave, he would bring back gifts from his travels. Joshua always requested more pretty beads for his collection, which he used to make beautiful jewelry - casual ornaments for his friends to wear when they were not being called upon to serve.
He was proud of his creations and enjoyed knowing that perhaps he had something to offer someone other than his sex.
Joshua was considered one of the most handsome and talented pleasure slaves in the castle, and he was called upon often. As a result, more often than not, he spent his spare time sleeping. Christopher noticed the lines under Joshua's eyes and commented:
"I am surprised to find you awake."
Joshua sighed and looked up from his beading. "I tried to sleep, but I could not. And yesterday, I had to service no less than six knights. Two of them at the same time. I need the rest. But that is why I like to bead. It is calming for me."
"What are you working on?"
"Lord Reginald just returned from a trip to Gaul, and he brought back some tiny pebbles from a beach. There were enough to make matching anklets for Christina and Brittany. I already bored holes into them with the needle-knife Lady Jennifer gave me, so the rest is simple." He put down the anklet he was working on. "Would you like for me to make you something? I could make a double bracelet for you."
Christopher smiled. "That would be nice."
"Choose some colors, and I shall make it. One of the fabric slaves was nice enough to dye some string for me, so you can choose that as well."
"Do you have some in the king's favorite colors? Red and gold? We should choose jewelry that will be pleasing to his eye."
"Well, I don't have gold, but this shade of yellow should do."
Christopher surveyed vast array of beads and precious stones and shook his head. "You are very fortunate, Joshua. You are much beloved. You will never be wanting nor will you have to worry whether you will be taken care of in your old age."
"Oh, I worry. I worry for other reasons. Being so favored means that I am open to a far greater number of unsavories than the other slaves." He mentioned his favored status as a statement of fact, without boasting. "I may have many suitors, but I have no choice in the matter. I will go to the one of highest rank in the end, and it may be someone as charitable as Lady Janet, and it may be someone like Lord Alfred."
Christopher shivered at the mention of Lord Alfred, one of the high-ranking members of the King's Court who was known for being especially abusive to slaves. It was commonly held among the hundreds of slaves in the castle that being obligated to Lord Alfred was a fate worse than death.
"I believe in good karma, Joshua, and you certainly do not deserve to be handed over to someone like Lord Alfred."
"I wish I had the same faith as you, Christopher. Anyway, I suppose you never have to worry about such things."
"Of course I worry. The king has specific tastes, and they can change at will. No one is ever safe. It is a mistake to rest on one's laurels."
Joshua grunted his assent. "Well. I leave it to the gods to decide."
Christopher stared intently as Joshua turned his concentration to making the bracelet. It had been ages since Christopher had been engaged in a conversation with Joshua alone. Christopher now had the luxury of studying his chiseled features. He longed to trail with just the tips of his fingers the fine cheekbones and jaw, the nose a little too long for his face that made Joshua imperfect and still unbearably handsome. Christopher drank in the beauty of Joshua's crystalline blue eyes, eyes which he used masterfully to convey a self-confidence, almost an arrogance, which only made him all the more desirable among the freemen in the castle.
How often had Christopher wanted to kiss that luscious bottom lip and suck and nip at it until it was even more swollen? And then demand to be taken and made his. Christopher hungered to confide all this in Joshua now that they were alone. He had had the pleasure of taking Joshua in his arms many times when entertaining the king. It amused the king to see his normally submissive slave be the aggressor with other slaves, and it was always his command that Christopher be the dominant one in the pairing. But Christopher often dreamt of lying on his back as Joshua turned the tables and claimed him with a devilish gleam in his eyes.
He wondered if Joshua knew. Christopher had long ago confided his feelings for Joshua to Brittany, who had already suspected. If it were that plain, surely Joshua suspected as well. But was it really that easy to know the difference between the affection the pleasure slaves displayed for one another on a common basis - far more affection than freemen were accustomed to showing one another - and that which was given in hopes of something more intimate?
Christopher knew that if he asked, Joshua would gladly take pleasure in him. But he did not want Joshua to do it as a gesture of friendly sport - or even worse, in deference to his status as the king's slave. He was not in love with Joshua, but he wanted their time alone - if it should come - to be mutually pleasurable, if not more meaningful than any of Joshua's casual dalliances with other slaves.
Christopher was so lost in his thoughts that he did not realize that Joshua had finished the bracelet. The younger slave tapped him on the thigh and presented it to him.
"It is finished."
Christopher smiled brightly. "It is beautiful, Joshua. I believe the king will be very pleased," he said, admiring it. "I will show it to him tonight. He indicated that we will have some time alone," he added excitedly.
Joshua looked up from the bracelet. "You love the king very much. That is wonderful. I am so happy that he chose you to be his very own. No one deserved it more than you." Christopher was at a loss for words, and his smile grew shy. Joshua did not take his eyes from Christopher's face. He chuckled before reaching up to remove the coloring Lansten had left on Christopher's cheeks. Christopher pressed his face ever so slightly into Joshua's hand. The coloring was needless, for Joshua revealed that Christopher's face was still flush with pink.
Joshua removed his hand from Christopher's face and laid it gently on his friend's hand. "It seems that the king loves you very much in return," he commented.
Christopher was taken aback by the statement. He shook his head. "No, the king would not love a slave.
Do not ever let anyone else hear you suggest that."
"Please do not take offense at what I said, Christopher."
"Forgive me. I- I do believe the king cares for me a great deal. He finds me entertaining. He often lets me sleep at the foot of his bed. He may not love me, but he takes care of me, and that is enough."
Joshua nodded. "That is the best a slave can ever hope for."
Christopher chewed at his thumbnail and studied his friend's expression. "Have you ever been in love with anyone, Joshua? Slave or free?"
Joshua gave him a cynical smirk. "It is not terribly pragmatic for a slave to fall in love, Christopher. It is too much trouble."
"Love is never pragmatic, Joshua. But you avoid my question. Have you been in love?"
Joshua smiled. "Love is not for me, Christopher. Rarely does it have a happy ending. Now, truly, there are those of you for whom I care very deeply. You are my sliblings, and I would die for you. But love in the way you mean? I cannot afford it. There are too many in this castle who desire me and give me gifts and make promises to take me in when I am no longer young and attractive and wanted. But most of those promises I do not believe and are not meant to be taken seriously. They are sweet sentiments whispered in nights of passion. Most free men will say anything to a slave to make him docile. A master likes to hear a slave profess his love to him - he thinks it is quaint, and certainly the slave in love is less likely to rebel. But to me, a lovesick slave is merely a fool.
"And of those who do mean what they say to me? They cannot afford to be in love with a slave anymore than I. You know very well that a freeman who declares his love for a slave puts himself at risk of losing everything - his station, his home, perhaps even his life. We are nothing, Christopher. Dispensable. Even a royal slave ranks lower than chattel. A freeman in love with a slave is an abomination, offensive to the senses and the mind."
Christopher was surprised to hear all this from Joshua. He was in an uncharacteristically pensive mood that day. "So you have made your point about the love between a freeman and a slave, Joshua. But what of the Twins? And Lansten and Justin?" he pressed.
"Yes, Lansten and Justin. They fell in love, only to be separated and forbidden to see each other again-"
"But we know the ending to that story, Joshua. They are together now."
"Only by the most extraordinary grace of the gods. Had Justin not belonged to a trusted subject of the king and Lansten been a favored pleasure slave, no one would have bothered suggesting the arrangement they have. The king would never have allowed a royal pleasure slave to have relations with a commoner. And all of this only to see each other for mere moments at a time."
"And do you argue that they are not content with the arrangement? I have known Lansten most of my life, and never have I seen him happier than when he is with Justin. Sometimes, as you put it, that is the best a slave can ever hope for."
Joshua shrugged his shoulders in reluctant agreement. There was an uncomfortable silence. Christopher feared he had angered Joshua, and wished he had not squandered his time arguing with him.
Then Joshua swallowed and whispered, "What happened to Lansten and Justin - I do not think I could bear it. I know I could not. The separation almost killed Lansten, you know that. He did not eat, he could not sleep. He almost went mad like the ghostly slaves who haunt this castle. And yet he is braver than I, Christopher. And I see Brittany when she comforts Christina when she has her nightmares. You are not subjected to those, Christopher. She awakes in fright, having relived witnessing the murder of her former masters and the abuse she suffered when she first came to the castle. I see Brittany hold her and cry with her until she falls asleep. I am not that strong, Christopher."
Christopher struggled to gather his thoughts. "Do you mean to tell me you purposely withhold your emotions for fear of ever experiencing pain?" Joshua did not answer. "You seem to think that love only consists of pain, Joshua. That is not true. Joshua, if you keep yourself so contained that you never feel pain, you will never allow yourself the happiness either."
Joshua finally spoke. "That is a risk I shall have to take, Christopher. I will not survive otherwise."
For the first time in his life, Christopher discovered a sadness in Joshua's eyes. The eyes of an exhausted slave, tired of being wanted and used, wishing only to settle down with one freeman who would take care of him until the end of his days. Understanding that such may very well not be his destiny.
Suddenly, Christopher pitied his friend, this pleasure slave who seemed to have nearly every freeman lapping at the palm of his hand. No. Certainly now was not the time for Christopher to reveal his feelings for Joshua. Christopher sensed that he could have taken advantage of Joshua's vulnerability, which would make him no better than the freemen who used him everyday.
Christopher closed Joshua's hand in his. Joshua squeezed Christopher's hand in return. Perhaps Joshua did know, and was grateful that Christopher kept the secret in his heart.
"Will you think me terribly rude if I take a nap now, my friend?" Joshua asked. "You may lay down with me, if you wish."
Christopher shook his head. "Certainly not." He was surprised to find that he was not disappointed that his time with Joshua would be curtailed. He helped Joshua move the cloth of beads over to the side of the pallet. Joshua kissed Christopher on the cheek and lay under the covers, stretching out his limbs. Christopher laid out on top of the covering and stroked Joshua's hair as he closed his eyes.
"Mmmm. That is nice," Joshua murmured. Within moments, he was asleep.
Christopher considered leaving Joshua at peace and joining the others outside. He needed to lighten his own mood now - he could pull a prank on Brittany and Christina, they were so gullible. Perhaps he could discover how easily Justin would fall prey to his tricks.
But then he stared at Joshua again, and decided otherwise. Christopher had never noticed how long Joshua's eyelashes were. He also realized he had never seen Joshua look as peaceful as he did while he was sleeping. He fingered the beads on his bracelet and watched Joshua as he slumbered.
Finally, he himself fell deep in his dreams.
He did not awake until Alan came to collect him for supper. It was already dark outside. Brittany, Christina and Lansten exchanged self-satisfied smiles as he awoke, unaware that not much more than sleep had taken place between the two men.
As Christopher stood to leave, Joshua stirred and sleepily bid him goodbye with a smile that made the older slave's heart ache for him. He bid the other slaves goodbye and followed his groom back to the king's quarters.
-FINIS CHAPTER ONE-
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===== "Yea, verily, this sucks." - Christopher in "Idle Pleasures"
I like my alcohol like I like my men. Strong, sweet and fruity.
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