Brayan had expected Maric and Dara to be done talking by the time the men were done eating, but when the last bowl was empty and they still hadn't emerged from the room he decided not to bother them. Dara was a bed slave, after all, and there was a bed in the room they were in. It wasn't hard to imagine what was delaying them.
After an hour, though, the men were getting restless and Brayan was becoming concerned. This was starting to get beyond the limits of Maric's sexual stamina.
He went upstairs and knocked on the door.
It was Dara who opened it, fully dressed and looking surprisingly unruffled. The room did smell of sex, but in a place like this Brayan wasn't sure it hadn't always smelled that way.
Dara kept his eyes aimed squarely at Brayan's collarbone. Sometimes it felt like he was better at remembering himself with Brayan than he was with Maric. "Yes, sir?"
"You didn't kill Maric, did you?"
"What? No!" Dara stepped to the side so that Brayan could see into the room.
Maric was laying on the bed, completely naked and fast asleep. Dara had tossed a blanket over his ass to preserve his modesty, as though Maric's ass was something Brayan had never seen before.
"Relax, Dara. That was a joke."
"Oh, ah— sorry, sir."
"That's okay. I know I'm not a very funny person." Brayan watched Maric for a moment. He really was thoroughly knocked out. "So, will you be coming with us?"
Dara nodded. "He promised that I could. Please don't change his mind, sir."
"What makes you think that I could?"
Dara was staring at Brayan's collarbone with such focus that it obviously required conscious effort for him to remember to do it. "He respects your opinion. He would listen to you, sir."
"He respects my opinion because I know when to give it. I advise him and I guide him when he needs it. I don't overrule his wishes when he knows what he wants."
Dara winced. "That's what I did, isn't it, sir?"
Brayan hadn't intended it as an admonishment, but he could see how Dara had taken it that way. "Do you think he would let a slave overrule him? No. He wants you with him. Things just became complicated. I understand his feelings on the matter and I don't hold this situation against you."
"Thank you, sir."
Brayan watched Dara for a moment, but just then he seemed like nothing more than a simple, nervous young man. "What I don't understand are your feelings. Or if that's even what this is about for you. Do you have feelings for the prince, or did you return to him for some other reason?"
Dara opened his mouth, and then closed it again and thought for a moment before finally speaking. "I don't think you can have feelings for a prince any more than you can have feelings for a chair. You can have feelings about it, but it's not a person. It's a thing."
"I'm going to have to disagree on that. I'm quite sure Maric is a person."
"No, that's what I'm trying to say. A prince is a thing. Maric is a person. I don't have feelings for the prince. I have feelings for Maric."
A mix of emotions flooded Brayan's gut. Relief, apprehension, both in equal parts. But the one he hadn't anticipated was envy. He didn't want this slave to talk about him like that and he had no desire for Maric's affection, but the genuine feelings they had for one another... Love had never been something Brayan had sought out, but he couldn't deny its elure. Surely everyone felt that way.
"My job, and my role as Maric's friend, is to act in his best interests," Brayan told Dara. "For a while I thought that was getting you as far away from him as possible, but now I see that's not the case. Don't worry about me.. If I ever act as anything but an extension of Maric's will, I've stepped out of line."
"Okay, but—" Dara hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, sir."
"No. What were you going to say?"
"Just..." Dara's eyes drifted up and met Brayan's. "You're a person too, Brayan."
"Okay," Brayan said reflexively and almost took a step backwards. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was like having a stranger shove their hand down your pants without warning. Maybe you would have been amenable to it, given the right context, but intimacy never felt good when it was unexpected.
"Sorry, sir," Dara said, quickly dropping his gaze again. "I didn't mean to overstep. I just think it's not good for anyone to feel like their job is all that they are."
"I understand and appreciate your intention, and I prefer you speaking to me openly because teaching you not to left me with no understanding of this situation between you and Maric. It wasn't productive. Just... please be careful who you say those sorts of things to. You're going to be around a lot of people who will not appreciate having their status brushed aside. Especially not by a slave."
"I understand, sir. I wouldn't have said that to you if I didn't think there was a person beneath the job who was worth talking to."
"The person behind the job is so disinteresting that he hates time off because he doesn't know how to keep himself entertained when he's not working. There's not much of value there. Trust me."
"You can still be the person while you're working, sir. The Captain cares about the prince. The person cares for Maric."
"Ah. Yes, I have been starting to see some potential for conflict there."
Dara nodded and glanced back at Maric. "Would you like me to wake him up, sir?"
Brayan let out a long, slow breath as he thought. Finally, he shook his head. "No, let him sleep. By the time we're done with everything, we'll be behind schedule anyway. I'll send Raedon back to fill Paige in on what's happening while he sleeps."
"Would you mind asking if he can bring the uniform I left there back with him, if it's not too much trouble? I had some spares in the back of the wagon, but someone may have thrown them out after I left."
"I'm sure they're still there. The men may not understand what has been going on between you and Maric, but they know well enough not to throw anything that belonged to you away without his say so. But yes, I will ask Raedon to bring the uniform you left there back with him."
"If you can find one of my uniforms, would you mind having someone bring it up, sir? I think Maric prefers me in his colours. And a basin of water and a washcloth, if it's not too much trouble. I smell of horse."
There was some instinctive part of Brayan that wanted to push back against a slave asking for so many things, but that wouldn't have been helpful. These were all reasonable requests that were ultimately in service to Maric. "You smell of more than that. I will have someone bring you those things. Have you eaten yet?"
"Has Maric?"
"No."
"I'll wait for him to wake up, then."
"You'll eat now and if you're hungry when he wakes up you'll eat again. We don't need the guilt of him feeling like he's neglected your needs again."
"Ah. That's true, sir."
"Is there anything else you need before I go?"
"No, just..." Dara hesitated, eyes fixed on Brayan's collarbone. "Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me," Brayan told him. "I'm just doing my job."
#
The musty smell of the room was the first thing that registered as Maric slowly drifted out of sleep, his mind as relaxed as his body and in no hurry to place itself. When his eyes finally opened he saw Dara laying next to him, watching him, and the world fell back into place.
Maric reached out a hand and lightly gripped Dara's arm simply for the sake of touching him. Dara was dressed in his uniform again and it looked like he'd combed his hair. "How long was I asleep for?"
Dara glanced towards the window. The light filtering in suggested it was early afternoon. "A while. Brayan said to let you sleep."
"Mm." Maric stretched out and yawned. "I suppose he has a plan, then."
"Does he ever not?"
Maric smiled. "I see you've figured him out, too."
"I think I'm starting to."
"He's a good person. Or at least I think he always means to be."
"Mm," Dara agreed, wrapping his arms around Maric's and hugging it close to his chest. "He seems lonely."
"Lonely? You think so?"
"I don't know. He seems very focused on his job."
"Ah. Yes. You might be right about him being lonely. Sometimes I catch him having very serious conversations with his horse. The sad part is, even if his horse could talk I doubt he'd have anything interesting to say. I know because I used to own that horse and he was the most boring animal I'd ever encountered."
"He's not that bad. No yenkarth, but a fine horse."
"Mm," Maric agreed. "He suits Brayan. For him, a horse that simply does as it's told reliably is a dream come true."
"But where's the rush of knowing that your horse would kill for you?"
"Like Farah was about to do for you earlier?" Maric smiled and shook his head. "You're going to have to teach me some of those whistles. I have trouble settling her sometimes."
Dara returned the smile and pressed Maric's palm against the side of his face. "I will."
Maric brushed his thumb against the curve of Dara's jaw, then sighed and gently extracted his arm from Dara's embrace. "Ready to return to the real world?"
"Never, but I suppose we should anyway."
Maric gave himself a wipe down in a basin of cold water that had been left sitting out, dressed, and led the way downstairs.
A cheer went up when his men saw him. He had left them waiting for quite a while, but the nature of their job meant they were used to periods of inactivity. They had set up a few games of cards across the large, central tavern table and it looked like they'd even lured some of the locals into playing against them.
Maric was torn over what to do about Dara as he sat down, but Dara made the decision for him by kneeling next to him and tucking in close against his side. That was how they ought to behave in front of any onlookers, even Maric's own men. It didn't feel right, but that was how things were. Part of Maric wanted to just eat a quick meal and then take Dara straight back upstairs where things could be simple again and they didn't have to put on a show.
But he wouldn't. No, he wanted to ride on to somewhere nicer, to share a warm bath and a good meal with Dara tonight and then lay him down on a soft bed and thoroughly ruin some nice sheets. Then maybe they would talk again. Maybe Maric would ask Dara about his family, about the ranch he'd grown up on, about how that had all been taken away from him.
But for now there was dried out roast beef to be eaten and new schedules to be planned and a quiet, handsome young man with his head resting against Maric's thigh.
When it was time to leave, another problem was discovered. After they had left Dara with Paige, the wagon had been repacked without room for a passenger in mind.
"He'll ride double will me again," Maric said before anyone had a chance to get started on repacking the wagon. "The next inn is less than an hour's ride away. No reason to bother with sorting this out now."
Thayne hesitated for a moment as he met Maric's gaze. They both knew restacking the wagon to make room for Dara was a puzzle that would take Thayne no more than a couple of minutes. They both knew that wasn't the point. Thayne nodded. "Yes, sir."
Maric helped Dara up onto his horse with him, in front of him this time. He wanted to be able to get his arms around Dara, to have his hands on him while they rode.
Maric rested one hand on Dara's thigh and let his mind wander as they started the short journey to the nicer inn.
How would they enjoy one another tonight? Would Dara want to do the same thing they'd done earlier, or would he be open to exploring new pleasures now that he had broken through the fear that had been holding him back?
There would still be other fears, of course. Even if he was no longer afraid of disappointing Maric, there were things that frightened him for other reasons that Maric would not push him on. He never again wanted to see Dara as afraid and vulnerable as he had been on the night they'd met because of something Maric had done to him. If that meant there were certain things they could simply never do, Maric would accept that. Or perhaps it would simply take patience and hard earned trust. If it was something Dara wanted to explore, Maric was willing to work for it.
Or maybe they could explore things the other way around. Maric had never even considered letting someone penetrate him before. As a prince, it had always just been assumed that he would take a dominant role in things and he had no problem with that at all. Yet submitting himself to Dara... that had not been objectionable. Brayan always seemed to enjoy it, despite not being at all submissive in other aspects of his life.
Not that sex with Brayan had never been about one person submitting to another. Brayan had made it clear from the start, through his actions rather than his words, that sex for him was about satisfying an urge so that it didn't become a distraction.
He had never seen a hint of affection from the man, though. Not that he expected it towards himself. Acting that way towards his Captain, or receiving that kind of attention in return, would have just been bizarre. But they'd shared a third partner before, ones who had brought out Maric's softer side, and Brayan had always remained focused on the end goal of the act. He was never unkind, but he had no interest in even playing pretend at having feelings.
Maybe Dara had been right about him being lonely.
Dara, though... Dara felt like he was all feelings sometimes. At least when arousal took over and his mind shut down. Just the way he looked at Maric sometimes made Maric want to give him the whole world.
Maric slowly stroked his hand down Dara's thigh, towards his knee. He wouldn't go too far in front of his men, but they'd lived in close enough quarters for long enough periods that a little like groping wouldn't shock them. He paused with his hand resting on Dara's knee, his body curved over Dara's so that he could reach, and then slowly began to trail his hand back up Dara's thigh.
Maric felt Dara's body tense and he kept his hand frozen in place where it was, halfway down Dara's thigh. Not good? Maric made an inquiring sound, quiet enough that only Dara would hear it.
Dara leant back against Maric's chest and whispered, "There are people following us in the bushes, along the side of the road."
Maric didn't move, but his eyes flicked up and caught on the shudder of a bush. It could have been a bird or a lizard that had been startled into hiding by their passage, but if Dara thought it was more than that...
It was easy to catch Brayan's eye. He'd already noticed the shift in Maric's posture. Maric signaled with a subtle shift of his fingers, and a moment later Brayan shouted as he drew his sword and the rest of the men responded in unison.
And then there they were, in the bushes, a dozen or more bandits with swords and bows. Farah screamed and reared up towards them, ready for a fight, but Maric pulled her back, guiding them towards the wagon to put it between themselves and the battle.
Dara gasped as he jolted back against Maric and Maric felt something sharp cut into him just below his sternum.
There was an arrow sticking out of Dara's chest..
The next thing Maric knew he was on the ground behind the wagon, Dara cradled in his arms and struggling to breathe as blood spread out from where the arrow had pierced his chest.
Dara finally managed to take a deep breath in, and then he let it out as a scream.
Maric tried to press down around where the arrow had entered and exited Dara's body to stem the bleeding, but Dara wouldn't hold still. He kept squirming around and grabbing at the arrow, his eyes distant with panic.
The sound of the fight had gone quiet. Mathers swung down from his horse and landed at Maric's side.
"Are you hurt, sir?" Mathers asked, reaching a hand towards the blood soaked patch on the front of Maric's shirt.
Maric slapped his hand away. "Focus on Dara."
"Get it out," Dara begged, his hands reaching up to grasp at the arrow that was lodged in his chest. It had gone all the way through him, the head of it piercing out through his back. "Please, get it out."
"Leave it," Mathers said, pushing Dara's hands away. "It looks like it's gone through his heart, but it can't have or he'd be dead. But it has to be close. If we can get him somewhere with good light, a flat surface where I can work, maybe I can save him. It depends on how good his body is at healing itself, because a normal person would not survive this."
"Get it out!" Dara screamed. "Maric, please, please. Get it out."
Maric took hold of the end of the arrow and snapped the fletching off.
"Maric—" Mathers said.
"Get. It. Out," Dara gasped.
Maric pulled the arrow out.
Blood sprayed out from Dara's chest. Mathers quickly got his hands over the wounds, but blood poured out around them. Dara took one last, gasping breath in, and then he went limp.
Mathers watched Dara for a long moment, and then he lifted his hand away from Dara's back and pulled his blood soaked shirt up. Blood welled in the wound, but there was no longer any pressure pushing it out of his body. His heart had stopped.
"No," Maric said as he pulled Dara's body into his arms. Every part of him was damp with blood. The smell of it hung heavy in the air. "No, Dara. Come on. Please."
"It was through his heart, Maric," Mathers said, voice gentle.
"No," Maric repeated.
"I don't know what quirk of his magic kept him alive for those few seconds, but nothing could have saved him."
"He told me to take it out."
"He was suffering. I can't imagine what that was like for him. It was better that it was quick."
"He told me he was very hard to kill. That he can heal from just about anything."
"Not this."
And then Brayan was there, close at his side, and Maric didn't know whether he wanted to shove him away or cling to him and cry. He didn't want anything except for this to not be real. For Dara to still be alive.
"I take full responsibility for this," Brayan said. "I made the choice to let you sleep and change our plans. This wouldn't have happened if we'd kept to the schedule."
"Shut up," Maric said. He knew what Brayan was doing, and it wouldn't work. Maric knew this was his own fault. He'd known that keeping Dara with him would put him at risk, but he'd chosen to do it anyway. And now Dara had paid the price. "Is anyone else hurt?"
"No. Including the bandits, unfortunately. They scattered the moment they saw this fight wouldn't go well for them and I didn't want the men to attempt to pursue and split our forces."
Part of Maric wanted to be angry. To get on his horse and hunt down every one of those fucking bandits and kill them himself. In that moment, he was sure he could. He had no fear.
But to do that he'd have to let go of Dara's body, and he wasn't willing to do that.
Eventually he would have to. Dara would grow cold, and then stiff, undeniably a corpse, and Maric would have to accept that this was truly real. But right now he was still warm. Still loose and floppy like maybe he was just unconscious, like maybe he'd wake up soon and be just fine because he was magic and he couldn't just die.
Thayne made room for them in the back of the wagon and Maric lifted Dara in. He sat, cradling Dara's body in his arms, and made a list of all the things he could have done differently that would have prevented this.
If he hadn't slept so long, if he hadn't insisted Dara ride with him so that he could grope him like a horny youth.
Perhaps if he hadn't been so distracted by his own fantasies he would have noticed an ambush coming before his fucking bed slave had.