*****Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, pedophilia, and basically Butcger just being creepy-creepy. But just mentions— nothing detailed or anything.*****
SAGE—
The next week passed in a blur. Llyric and I spent our days learning Akari, and Akaran stories and traditions and the ways of life in the tribe, from Brin and Al'iya. Since I had a baseline of Akari, it wasn't long before I was picking up words and phrases. Since Llyric still refused to speak, I could only hope he too was beginning to understand the language as there was no way to gauge his progress in that regard. Though from the understanding in his eyes, and the way he sometimes directed me when Brin or Al'iya said something I didn't quite catch, I thought he was doing just fine. Better than me, most likely.
Brin and Al'iya taught us their language and culture while we helped them in their daily duties. I was used as basically a pack mule and high-place-reacher, and Llyric's soft hands were perfect for Brin's gentle work. He became quite adept at threading her looms for her, and even tried his hand at a colored quilt.
When we spent the day with Al'iya, we tended her garden, helped her mix her poultices and potions, searched the nearby forest for wild herbs, and even attended her to a few homes and farms to aid with the sick or injured.
My and Llyric's relationship with their Chief wasn't a secret, it seemed, as we were met in every home with open arms and a lot of food.
"Gods, these Akarans like to try to fatten up their guests," I joked to Llyric. Brin laughed as I made the observation aloud.
"You're the future mates to their Chief. They're trying to make sure you like them."
The words sobered both Llyric and me. I wasn't sure what Llyric was thinking, but the words frightened me just a bit. Was I really so ready to simply never return home? With being the mate to an Akaran Tribal Chief? To uproot my entire life, for his?
Each evening we ate in either Ember's suite or the dining room with the other members of the household. The chef, Smetikan— Kan, he had said to call him— a man with paler skin than normal for an Akaran, took in Llyric's skin and bones appearance the first time we met him and seemed to make it his mission in life to make the most fattening food he could think of. My waistline objected and I feared I might have to let out my belt from all the rich food, but it helped Llyric not at all.
Each night, we made love on Ember's furs. The night after we had shared Llyric's ass, Ember fucked me while I sucked Llyric to multiple orgasms. We hadn't wanted to push Llyric and hurt him, although it took some convincing. The boy seemed determined to spend as much time with us inside him as possible. He even managed to drag me into the brush a few times, dropping to his knees and very quickly bringing me to orgasm down his throat. I caught him doing the same to Ember one day after lunch, and I wondered how he had the stamina when he constantly looked as if he may fall over from malnutrition and exhaustion.
For he wasn't sleeping, as far as I could tell.
When he did manage to fall to sleep, he never failed to wake after too short a time, screaming. His wordless babblings quickly turned into wordless begging. After the first time, Ember and I never had his power overwhelm us again. I wasn't sure if it was because he was aware of it and holding it back, or if it was some resistance to it on our part. His cries still woke us, and we had to start taking turns sitting up and rocking him, holding him, so we could take turns getting some sleep.
The shadows under his eyes grew darker. His rib bones protruded through his chest and belly as well as his back, and his eyes grew duller as time went on.
"If it weren't for Llyric," Al'iya told me, through Brin, when I went to her on the third day we had been in Akar, desperate for an answer. "This is likely how all of the children would be. Instead, look at them— they flourish. Kye already nearly speaks fluent Akari, his mother says he sleeps through the nights and only occasionally flinches back from his father. And Tristan— gods, Sage, look at him. Yes, he's afraid of touch, and likely will be for a time to come, but he's learning a trade, he spends his days nearly singing with happiness. But your boy..."
She paused, her eyes sad and withdrawn. "He has to fight through the trauma without the aid of magic. On top of that, he took the pain of each of the children into himself. That in itself must have taken a great toll on him. It's going to take him time, and you and Ember need to hold onto your patience and your love for him."
She agreed to make him a sleeping potion, but it only made him groggy and irritable in the morning, and if it was possible, more clingy as he fell to sleep under the effects of the herbs.
At all times, one or both of us had to be touching Llyric, or at least nearby. If we weren't, he would begin to fall into himself, stare off at nothing, and his hands would begin to shake. He would act as if he was trying to calm himself, as if he could barely sit still for whatever was running through his mind and soul.
Through it all, Ember and I stayed as patient as Al'iya had implored us to be. We kept Llyric close, listened to his silence for clues as to how he was feeling, and kept him as fed as he would allow.
Despite my worries for Llyric, and they weren't small, I had never been happier. Ember still hadn't said anything about us staying permanently, and we never talked about the future, but I grew to love and respect him as much as I already loved and cherished Llyric. We spent our nights in near-perfect bliss, and our days sneaking kisses and moments of intimacy. Ember frequently escaped his duties to come eat with us, or just sit quietly with us as we watched the sun set.
I had never had such happiness. Such peace. Despite Llyric's battle with his traumas, he laughed often, kissed us both sweetly, and smiled gently, and we were genuinely happy. Because we were together, and we were working through his fears and pains.
We were happy.
Until the day the messenger from El'kahr, from Queen Hestiel, was spotted by tribal scouts. I turned back when the scout had left us after telling Ember what he had seen, and Llyric was gone.
I was a little worried about Llyric leaving— he had never willingly left my or Ember's side, but I was distracted when Ember pulled me towards the mansion and we met the El'kahrian messenger as he skidded to a stop in the courtyard.
"Missive for Captain Sage of Ban'daor, from Hestiel, Queen of El'kahr," the messenger said, his chest heaving with exertion. He lowered himself off his horse, his eyes flickering to the Akarans around him warily.
"I'm Sage," I called, moving to take the letter.
As I opened it, I could hear Ember telling the messenger he could stay the night if he wanted, rest before he had to return. The man seemed surprised, but took Ember up on the offer. The horse was led to the stables by one of the house men— a man I had met multiple times but could never remember his name. In my defense, I had met more people in the last two weeks than in years of my existence before now.
Elf'i, one of the maids who was mated to Chef Kan, and one of the few who spoke any El'kahrian, led the messenger back into the mansion.
As I tuned out everything around me and read what Queen Hestiel had written, my hands began to shake, the week of happiness and bliss, passion and desire behind me becoming a fading memory as I realized how Ember would react to the contents of the letter.
And finally understood Llyric and why he had never fully opened himself up to either of us. Why he acted as if each day was his last in our arms. And why he likely ran away when word of the messenger was brought to us.
Captain Sage,
I write to you with a heavy heart, praying to all the gods listening that this reaches you in time to stop any unnecessary pain or confusion.
Firstly, Lord Butcger has stood trial and been found guilty of rape, murder, treason, and conspiracy, and has been sentenced to death by hanging. I plan to let a few of his past victims have a few days with him beforehand, to ensure justice is properly served and he suffers as he so deserves to.
I know you're a man of staunch and unyielding morals and principles, so I won't go into details about what these men and women plan for our esteemed Lord Butcger, but suffice it to say he will not die a whole man. He will not die a sane man. And he will die in as much agony as I can possibly ensure he feels.
Now, onto the child you wrote me regarding.
Despite hiding the boy's existence his entire life, I've uncovered that the boy you found in the dungeons of Butcger's keep is called Llyric, and he is the son of Butcger's loins.
You may feel the same disbelief as I did when I first heard these words, as Butcger has never spoken of having an heir, nor has there been even a hint of rumor of him having a son, but I now know them to be true. They were told to me by one of the prisoners you sent my way for incarceration and justice. She is called only Nanny, and she is a woman in the last years of her life. She had been the victims of the Defiler's governess, their tutor, their caretaker, possibly since he first discovered his disgusting attraction towards our most vulnerable: our children. She seems near proud of all the children she has "raised," and doesn't seem at all ashamed of how she kept them clean and well-fed for a monster.
Nanny spoke almost fondly of Llyric, telling of how beautiful he was as a child— the child of one of Butcger's favorites. A girl by the name of Music, who was sold to the Defiler when she was barely old enough to walk to pay off a debt. The mother, Nanny said, was barely 13 when she slit her own wrists, only days after giving birth to Butcger's child. She stayed long enough to name the boy, sing to him for days on end, then took her life with a dull knife she had stolen from one of the trays of food brought to her cot.
Nanny says: "Llyric drove his father to distraction with his beauty, his sensual grace. His mama was the same way. Drew those to her that otherwise would have seen her as but a child. The boy was made for his father, made to be his best and his favorite. But something went wrong, his father couldn't touch him, couldn't make him his own, and so he punished the boy. For 17 years, he punished him in the dark for what the master couldn't have."
Captain, I am almost sick writing these words, but I need you to have all of the information I can provide to you. As you know, the laws of El'kahr do not seek to punish the son for the father's sins. But those in Akar may feel differently. If the rumors of that Chief Ember are true, he may not suffer the boy to live.
Come back to Veil, Captain, as quickly as you can. Bring the boy. He won't have a home here in the capital, for there are far too many who would never let him live in peace, but we'll find a place for him. For the both of you, if what I sensed from your letter is true and you do feel something for this Llyric.
All that being said, I've taken Butcger's wealth and distributed it among his past victims that I know of who still live in El'kahr, as well as sending some to Chief Ember to do the same for the children the Akarans have taken in. But there is some left I had planned to give to a worthy noble here— including his castle. These I would, of course, bestow on Llyric, as rightful heir to the wealth remaining of Lord Butcger. Please inform him of this, and let me know when he would like to meet and speak of what he is entitled in his inheritance.
Sincerely and with the deepest regard and respect,
Hestiel, Queen of El'kahr
******EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP cliffhanger! 🙈🙈*****