As The World Falls Down

The Heroic Legend of Arslan: DarunxNarsus. by: Roo

Warnings: Lemon. Angst. Sap. As always. Terribly OCC. Takes place about four years before the beginning of Tape 1. Please send comments to: Dragoness_fei@yahoo.com

~*~

Rebellion, treason, and turmoil clamped around the dry desert castle air. I couldn’t stand it one moment longer. I took the black mare I so recently tamed out of her cobbled stable and headed for the nearest moor. Fresh country air would clear my head.

As I thundered across the drawbridge I saw Lord Narsus dangling his legs gracefully over the stone archway. He frowned, immersed in some manuscript or other, occasionally making notes in the margins. I stopped.

"Good day to you, my lord," I ventured politely.

"And to you, dear sir." Narsus gave me one of his trademark ebullient smiles. He coupled it with a knowing look—the one that assured everyone he knew something the rest of the world had yet to figure out.

"And what are you doing on a bridge this fine day?"

"Envying you, Darun..." The scholar simpered beneath silken amber strands of hair.

"Oh? Envying me?"

"Envying your horse, I should say." Narsus jumped down from his perch and began slowly gliding towards the portcullis.

I turned in my saddle as I watched him go, my eyes arrested by his every alluring movement. "My horse?"

"Looks like she’s being ridden by someone who knows how to handle her, at least." His lips curved with wicked delight at watching me squirm and blush.

I should have known better with Narsus. I always took his bait. His unshakable composure while speaking of such things, the careful twist of words around his razor tongue, and the mind that led me down a labyrinth of seduction—all of it enflamed and infuriated me.

Stung, I said, "Are you experiencing some problem in that field, my lord? Perhaps you should chose wiser mounts!"

He rewarded me with a slight gasp.

I dug my heels in deep and jaunted off, hoping I wounded that brassy ego of his a little. Feeling momentarily triumphant, I galloped across the desert mounds, bounding recklessly into the warm sunshine and sandy paths of my youth. Still, I could feel Narsus’s eyes trail after me, branding me... so strange...and sad.

~*~

There’s such a sad love
Deep in your eyes
Such a pale jewel
Opened and closed

~*~

Riding remained one of my few pleasures. Despite what Narsus often suggests, I am not a barbarian. I simply cannot sit by and think about the pot I’m stewing in, think about our half-mad king and his ice queen, and think about all the battles I must inevitably fight for them. I never proclaimed myself a thinking man. I leave web spinning to men like Narsus, and when action is needed, they leave it to me.

In some ways I respect Narsus. He could wrap his mind around any intrigue and by the end of the evening have everyone wrapped around his finger. He is a genius. A master strategist. And a hopeless hedonist.

Where he could have brilliance, I could at least have purity. Simplicity. Strength. And I could lord that over him if I needed to.

But those pale green eyes... they wouldn’t let me. I hung my head in shame. I should not have insulted him so. He complimented me, after all. Going so far as to say he envied my horse...

What would it be like, to ride such a man?

Images of Narsus flat on his back, yielding so sweetly, washed over me. He would fight me at first, of course. And he would be hard won. Such a prize always is. But I lived for taming fiercely independent creatures, and he knew it. We seemed made for each other. Sage and soldier. Aristocrat and barbarian. Lover and fighter, all merging into one.

I shook my head, trying to focus my attention back on the path before me.

But my mind wandered... What if I asked Narsus to ride with me today? Sitting in front of me, resting his noble head on my chest? I would smell his hair; hold him tight. Each urging of my horse would impel my hips to cradle his. Each jaunt would send him back into me. Ah, it would be such bliss... What would he do if I brought my hand down to cup him there? I flushed.

What an idiot! Lusting after that courtesan! In the middle of a forest on a mare headed south, when I needed to be heading north, and back to the castle in time for my lesson with Arslan... Arslan!

About-facing, I drove my mount hard back to the palace. Damn the man! He would make me late!

~*~

Narsus’s eyes twinkled unmistakably. I flung myself off my saddle and gripped the leather bridle, doing my best not to show concern.

I deliberately slowed my pace and led my mare towards the stable, trying not to stare as Narsus broke away from the clutter of noblemen clamoring for his conversation. He crossed the courtyard with ease and lifted a cultured hand to rest upon mine.

"Go, Darun. The Prince is waiting in the inner garden."

I looked up at him, startled by the sudden kindness in that rich voice. His eyes glowed.

Narsus smiled. "I’ll brush her down and put her in her stall." Again, softness and civility from him.

"I thank you humbly, my lord."

Narsus’s smile deepened. "Not at all. Perhaps she will tell me your secrets..."

"Secrets, my lord?"

"Ah." He chuckled, stroking the thick black mane away from a twitching, corded neck. "On how to chose a wise mount?" His eyes sparkled with humor and something else, and I couldn’t help but grin.

Apparently he had taken no offense. So I had best be on my way. "My noble lord." I bowed extravagantly and spun on my heel, desperate not to keep the young Prince waiting longer. But I could still feel those eyes on my back.

~*~

Within your eyes
I’ll place the skies
In your eyes

~*~

Young Arslan’s quick progress showed his dedication. He started training very young, and could barely lift the sword, really. But his spirit never let him show any signs of tiring. Sweat streaked his smooth, pale brow. Rogue locks of straw-colored hair stubbornly clung to his forehead. I had to quell the urge to brush them back. I could not afford to show him tenderness.

As a teacher I must be firm to be kind. He would need to get used to loneliness and toil if he were to survive battle. Much as I wanted to hold him dear, I had to keep him at bay. He already lived as my rising and setting star. If I let myself feel much more for him, I would be beyond any use to him.

"You are not attacking aggressively enough! Come at me like you mean to kill me, my Prince."

"But, Darun... I could never--"

I lunged for him. "But you must!"

He blocked. A good perry. I had not attacked with any force. He simply had to learn the basics: the eight positions of sword, the three lunges of advance and retreat. Still young yet. There would be time enough for a true bout. For now, though, he must learn it properly, or he would suffer for all the rest of his matches.

"When you lunge, stay straight."

"Yes, Darun."

"Use your shoulder, not your wrist."

"Yes, Darun."

He frowned too hard. Tried too hard. To please me. I stopped.

"Do you know why I am so hard on you, my Prince?"

Arslan let his guard down, slumping his shoulders. "Because I am so very bad?"

I leapt forward. "No! Because you are so very good! You are as fine as any of my men, when they were beginning! You will make a fine swordsman, Arslan..."

He seemed to be eased by this. The boy worshipped me, I could sense it. He set everything by my opinion, if I felt stupid enough to express it. And so perhaps I gave him a little confidence in this admonition.

"I’m hard on you because I want to make you the best, Arslan." I rested a hand on his shoulder. "I want you to never know defeat..."

"Then how can he learn anything?" a sharp voice interjected from the gazebo. A voice I recognized instantly.

"Narsus?" I turned.

"Forgive me for interrupting your lesson, my Prince. But I fear I must protest. It would appear our good Darun would have you never know defeat. But this would cripple you. If you were to learn defeat first..."

I watched him descend upon the boy, his manner confident yet cautious, as if revealing some great secret, "if you learned defeat, young Highness, then you would learn much about your enemy. You would be able to master him next time."

I raised an eyebrow. "There is no next time, on the battlefield, nobleman! You lose, you die."

Narsus just rolled his eyes. "Not while he has you there to protect him, surely, Darun."

Flattery. It came so easily to him. I could scarce hold back my sneer. "Thank you kindly. But I seem to recall being chosen as the boy’s tutor, and so I will teach him to wield a sword on his own."

Narsus shifted. Of course, he should have been chosen as royal fencing instructor. His swordsmanship made legends even beyond Parse’s borders. But the Prince favored me more, and I confess I considered those few hours with him precious.

"But..." Narsus looked down at our royal ward, his hand coming down to gently thread through the boy’s golden hair. "He’s too young, Darun."

"Too young, Lord Narsus?"

"To hold a weapon, to learn to kill. He’s too... innocent."

I bristled. How dare he put his hands on the Prince of Parse for the god’s sakes! "Jealous, lord?"

I went too far, there. His lips tightened almost imperceptibly as he removed his hands from the slender shoulders upon which they fluttered.

Narsus bowed sharply. "My Prince." He turned and left without so much as a glance back.

"Darun?" Arslan frowned up at me.

"Forgive me, my Prince. Lord Narsus and I seem to anger one another as easily as the wind blows through the trees. It was wrong of me."

"You should go and apologize." His tiny voice echoed my thoughts.

"It is a difficult matter of pride, young sire." I sighed. Even I could not fully understand what led me to taunt the man so.

"Then, I command you to apologize."

I looked down at the boy who would someday be my king, love swelling deeply in my breast. "I obey, your Highness. You will excuse me? Our lesson is over."

~*~

I headed for the baths, anxious to wash the scent of horse and sword bout off of me. Quickly, I disrobed and marched into the poolroom, tossing my towel carelessly across a wooden bench. I tumbled into the scented water, reveling in the oiled liquid that caressed every inch of my skin. When I came up for air, I sputtered and choked on some water, shocked.

Not but two inches from my face was the perfectly chiseled abdomen of one quite wet, quite golden, quite ravishing Narsus.

"N...Narsus?"

"Darun."

"What are you doing here?" I asked stupidly, refusing to stand up and expose my body to his relentless gaze.

"I am bathing, Darun. What does it look like I’m doing?"

I suppose the comment hadn’t necessarily meant to invoke my study, but my eyes raked him nonetheless.

"A...Ah." I cleared my throat. "I’m... I’m happy I found you here."

That made him raise an eyebrow. "I can’t imagine..."

"Truly," I said, determined to keep conversation as simple and straightforward as I could.

"Oh? Did you come to sling another insult my way?" Narsus tossed his wet caramel hair back across his shoulder, revealing more of that broad, sculpted chest.

I gulped. "No, my lord. It was very wrong of me. I wish to apologize--"

"Why bother, Darun? It’s very clear what you think of me. You even admit so in front of the Prince."

I winced. When would I ever learn self-control? God, how I must have wounded him. Even if it was with the truth.

Tentatively, I reached my hand out and grasped his. "Forgive me, Narsus." I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it softly. "I never meant to hurt you."

He relaxed ever so slightly. "You are forgiven," he said, as easily as if he were telling me the hour.

I bowed, relieved.

"Ne, Darun?"

"Ah?"

"Could I ask you a favor now?"

I stiffened. Gods only know what he would ask for. "What would you have me do, Lord Narsus?"

He smiled genuinely at me. "Wash my back?"

I almost slipped into the water. "A...ah." I took the cloth from him and soaked it in the pool, sopping it with the scented warmth. Not really knowing where to start, I hesitated.

"Surely you’ve done as much for your fellow soldiers?" Narsus challenged quietly.

Yes, but my soldiers never made me this hard. Or this nervous. "I bathe alone," I said, trying to steer the conversation anywhere but where my mind was heading.

"Oh," Narsus said. He waited patiently; his back turned to me.

I stroked the wash cloth gently across the planes of his back, surprised to find the hard curve of muscle there. In time, Narsus began to sway with each stroke, and I found I liked having him in my power. I rested my other hand on his hip, and drew nearer, to steady him.

Brushing the soft texture along his shoulder blades, I worked some of the tension out of his upper torso. He moaned softly.

"Am I doing this right?" I asked, unsure.

"Oh yes. It feels wonderful, Darun."

"Here. Come back down into the water."

Narsus obeyed me, kneeling down into the pool before me. I set the cloth aside and began to massage his shoulders and neck, gently tucking his hair across his chest. He shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"No," Narsus replied, his voice husky.

"Ah," I murmured, concentrating on the fine hairs that escaped to curl along the nape of his neck. Before I realized what I was doing, I brought my lips down to taste them. Narsus let his head roll back, gasping slightly as I kissed him there.

Instinctively I wrapped my arms around his chest and I began to place soft-lipped kiss after soft-lipped kiss upon the back of his neck. "Narsus..." I breathed in his ear.

"Darun..." His eyes were closed. I wanted to see them, wanted to see those pale jewels opened.

I ran my fingers through his hair and titled his head to expose more of that white throat, before I descended to suck on it. I grew painfully hard, and Narsus melted against me. He showed no resistance, and that surprised me. I must have caught him off guard.

But then, turnabout is fair play.

Narsus spun around in my hold, stopping a bare breath away from touching our lips together. He looked deeply into my eyes, assessing my very core, before he locked his mouth upon my own.

I groaned as he pressed against me, loving the feel of his soft skin flushed across my body. He filled me with ache and soothed me with touch all at once. His tongue mapped my lower lip and I wanted to open to him, wanted so badly to give him entrance to me. But I was a warrior. I did not yield without a battle.

As abruptly as he began, Narsus withdrew completely. He left me wanton, shaking almost. I stared at his slow, sheepish smile, disbelieving.

"Thank you, Darun."

He looked so shy all at once. What could have gone wrong? "My pleasure," I responded, not knowing what else to say.

Did he tease me?

He rose to leave, slowly wading to the other end of the pool. I watched as rivulets of oiled water cascaded down his back and the curve of his luscious buttocks. He turned and caught me staring. I lowered my gaze to the water, abashed.

The next moment, I heard the door open and shut, and my damned elusive fairy creature left without a trace. It reminded me of some of the bizarre dreams I’d had lately. I swear I could remember kissing him, remember his cool breath puff onto my face and his body pliant against mine. But I couldn’t be sure; it still felt too surreal. I wouldn’t put it past Narsus to know a little magic…Best to dress and make ready for dinner. It would not do to be tardy twice in one day.

~*~

Dinners were always extravagant affairs in the palace of Parse. Dancers leapt about the room, twirling their brightly colored scarves after them. Tumblers and tricksters made merry, and the musicians played endless tunes. Ballads to Ashi, memorials to Misra, and the like. A typical Friday night reverie. It made me long for the soldier’s quarters and the simple soup and bread served there. Such affairs as these always gave me a headache.

Speaking of headaches, I spotted Narsus. As usual, he draped over some high-ranking official’s arm, making polite talk of philosophy or politics or some such drivel. He paid particular attention to a redheaded fellow with a guitar.

As if he could sense my eyes on him, Narsus turned and leveled me with one look. Emerald orbs fixed me to the spot, and suddenly the taste of his kiss, the stirring in my groin, the need with which he left me, came rushing back. Then he turned his head in dismissal, focusing his gaze on a young dark foreigner to his right.

No one could bring fury to me faster than Narsus! I could have stomped across the room and smacked him. Or kissed him, hard. He had quickly become my Achilles, and I wanted to best him as soon as possible, if only to have my sanity back.

I strode over towards him, breaking through the small crowd around him. "Your pardon my lord, but I believe you left something unfinished."

Narsus looked quite taken aback. "Why dear sir, whatever do you mean?"

I carefully kept my eyes from narrowing. "Surely you remember? I believe you were lecturing us on the benefits of defeat? I should very much like to continue this discussion. Perhaps we might have a match?"

Narsus raised both eyebrows. He crafted his manner impromptu, as always.

"Yes, Darun. I think I should like that very much. Tomorrow? A sparring bout?" He voice sounded amused, as if I was a child asking to play.

"Where?" I grated out.

"The same court yard?"

"When?"

"Oh, let’s see. Sometime in the afternoon? I do hate to rise early..."

"Of course. Your nocturnal activities must leave you fairly exhausted." I waited for the men around us to finish laughing. "I shall see you at the second hour." I bowed curtly and moved to take my place at the table, for dinner would start soon.

Narsus sat across from me, a few chairs down. He stared at the brocade cloth before him, subdued. He looked up at me and then quickly away. I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach.

I simply didn’t understand him. One minute he towered, a teasing mass of sexual prowess, the next, a small rubble of a hurt boy under a mess of soft brown hair. He never rebutted any of my insinuations as to his activities, and so therefore must have admitted to them. But for someone so open about his conquests, he seemed so devastated every time I mentioned them.

Narsus looked up again, this time at the King. I watched as his Majesty gave the nobleman a long, serious look and Narsus seemed to forget his misery for the moment. Could he and the King be lovers? Narsus turned his attention to the wealthy merchant on his left and struck up a conversation, flirting boldly before introductions were through.

I sighed. Another endless night...

~*~

His thrusts amazed me! I never dreamed he had such hidden strength. The soles of my boots slid repeatedly against the sand and I fought to maintain balance. The hot sun would not help me win this duel, I thought, as I dodged his quip in fourth.

I could have kissed him. Clean, sharp lunges, without mercy, lodged effectively against each repost. Perfect.

"What, nothing to say, my lord? No lecture on defeat?" I wanted him riled—I wanted him as easily manipulated as he had me.

"Your defeat should be enough shame for one day, dearest sir," he rejoined, warily keeping watch of the tip of my blade. A little nervous that I would knick him, I gathered. Vanity would be his weakness.

I came at him harder, backing us up until he stumbled, cornered in front of a topiary concoction. Just when I thought I had him, he double disengaged and sent my sword sprawling onto the grass. He brought his blade under my chin and I glared at him, my mouth full of venom.

Now would come the humiliating ordeal of cow-towing to the better fighter, the better man. He had his chance for revenge and I knew words from Narsus would sting as sharply as any sword.

"Why were you defeated, Darun?" Narsus quietly demanded, not moving so much as a millimeter.

I swallowed that venom. "Because... you are the better champion."

Narsus’s eyes squinted in the sun. "Not so. You lost because you let your mind wander. You let yourself see only what you wanted to, and then when you saw the truth, it was too late. That is your weakness, Darun." Narsus lowered his blade. "And if you had never been defeated, you might never had known… until it was too late."

I stared at him. His voice sang softly; his demeanor held no gloating or antagonism. His maturity, his insight astonished me. "Oh."

He smiled at me. "It would indeed be a shame, to lose a warrior like yourself."

I couldn’t help it. I loved him when he acted like this. When he took off his mask, when I could see the sincere Narsus, the entire world tumbled away, and I got swallowed into all that composed Narsus. I pulled him into my embrace, murmuring slightly above his lush mouth, "I never knew loosing could be so sweet, Narsus."

His jade eyes flashed for a moment, and I could sense the mutual want, the need. I bent to kiss him, but he backed out of my hold, frightened. So strange...

"Dear minstrel! Thank the Gods you’re here to save me from this barbarian’s clutches!" Narsus gushed, attaching himself to the one called Gueive’s elbow.

"Oh, Narsus? I thought he was under your sword?" Gueive grinned. I instantly knew I hated him.

Narsus drew a shaky breath and slipped into the musician’s arms. "Ne, ne, shall we go for a walk in the garden? It is such a nice day, and I want to get to know you better before I have to give our Prince his painting lesson."

I snorted. Narsus, and his damned art. I gathered my sword and stalked off to the stables. At least the horse wouldn’t fight my hold any longer, and a brief ride might clear my mind.

~*~

After a hard race through some training hurdles I put the little black mare back in her stall and headed in to see what was for dinner. I found absolutely nothing of interest in the kitchen… simpering serving girls not to my taste, as I discovered long ago. I preferred the companionship of men—of my equals. I preferred a challenge.

I stole an apple, winking at the kitchen maid who caught me, and climbed the winding servant’s stairs towards the Prince’s chambers. Halfway up the steps, I heard their voices echoing off the slates. His voice.

"No, your highness. You are going at this too aggressively. Let it come to you, and it will be worth all the more."

"Yes, Narsus."

"No, your Highness, you’re using your shoulders too much. The brush requires strokes of the wrist."

"Yes, Narsus."

I could almost hear the poor boy’s frown.

"Very good, your Highness. Once you have mastered shading, I’ll teach you perspective, and that will make the flowers look real."

"What’s so great about perspective?" Arslan asked, his slender face turning towards me as I opened the door of his chambers.

"Perspective is everything," Narsus said, looking directly into my eyes. I forgot to breathe.

Narsus sat on a cushioned stool next to our child ruler. His hair hung over his right arm, untied. I had the urge to run my thumb across his pouting pink lips.

Then I remembered we had an audience. "My Prince? Am I disturbing you?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"Oh no, Darun! You could never be a bother! Please come and sit with us, and watch me paint..." Arslan beamed up at me, and Gods help me, I had to beam back.

I walked over and sat on the arm of a brocaded burgundy chair, peering at the canvas. Arslan had painted a deep violet flower petal over the light sketch of a penciled lily.

"Most impressive," I said, smiling.

"It is Lord Narsus’s sketch. He is letting me paint it," Arslan chirped at me, seeking approval.

"I see. It is as beautiful as its creators," I murmured, hazarding a glance at Narsus.

I could have sworn he blushed ever so slightly, but he did not meet his eyes to mine. He simply took Arslan’s wrist and lifted it, brush and all, back to the canvas.

"Like this," he murmured, bringing the tiny hand down in one smooth stroke, slashing a deep indigo blue into the middle of the petal. The petal instantly had depth and brilliance.

"Amazing!" Arslan excitedly declared. He set about mixing more of the paint on his pallet.

"Yes. If only you could persuade Lord Narsus to continue painting flowers instead of those awful nudes--"

"—What’s wrong with my nudes?" Narsus bristled, dangerously close to the edge of anger.

I grinned. "Oh, well, I’m sure nothing is wrong with your nudes. You’ve had so much study of the male body, I’m sure--"

I saw the fury flash briefly in his eyes but I couldn’t stop myself. "But Narsus, don’t you think painting naked people is a little... squalid?"

"Sq…squalid?" He spit the word out. "Are you saying you think the reproduction of the human body—one of the Gods’ greatest works of art—is tacky? You barbarian!"

"Narsus--" Arslan attempted, but we were both ignoring him by that point.

"Barbarian am I? At least I have the decency not to make pictures of everyone I lay with!"

A sharp slap to my face. So accurate it took me by surprise.

"Darun!" Arslan pleaded, rising to his feet.

I had never seen Narsus so exposed in anger. "Is this the only way to get through to you, Darun? Physical force? Are you such an animal that you need to be slapped into proper manners?!"

"Indeed, nobleman," I said slowly, massaging my jaw. "If you are the measure of a gentleman, that I am truly an animal."

Narsus looked as though he would cry. Mixed emotions flooded me. On the one hand, his constant teasing drove me to fury. On the other hand, my endless criticism no doubt affected him likewise. Who am I to rebuke him for his conquests? In front of Arslan to boot!

"I will have you answer to me for this." Narsus’s voice fell cold and deadly.

"When?" I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Dawn."

"Where?"

"The training grounds." Narsus stared past me as he spoke.

His choice frightened me a little. On army training grounds there exist no penalties for drawing blood. Or even for killing your opponent. Surely he would not?

"Narsus?" Arslan walked over to the artist, wrapping his tiny fingers around the folds of Narsus’s shirt. "You will not kill him?"

Narsus stared down at the boy. "Of course not, your Highness. The training grounds are simply the most logical choice for a dual. Too many prying eyes in the castle..."

I scowled. "As if that ever mattered, before--"

"Dawn," Narsus reminded, cutting my insult off. He turned and walked to the door.

Arslan turned disapproving eyes on me. His frown marred his perfect boy features. I sighed.

"You are angry at me too, your Grace?" I muttered, sitting back on the arm of the chair.

Arslan walked over to me, hesitating before hurling himself into my arms.

"I don’t want you to fight, Darun! You and Narsus are best friends!"

"We were. People change, Arslan." How could I make a ten year old understand the complicated dances Narsus and I stepped through, when I didn’t even know the pattern myself?

"I don’t want to lose either of you, Darun."

"You won’t, your Highness." I sighed again and attempted levity. "Let it be said that our Prince is more mature than his advisors!"

"Darun--"

I kissed his royal brow, sweeping hair back from his face. "It is time for dinner. Your mother is said to come tonight. Perhaps you can see her at the table?"

Such a promise enthralled the boy. "Do you really think so? What should I wear?"

"Green and white. It will suit your coloring. Come, I’ll pick something out for you."

"Darun?" Arslan giggled.

"What?"

"Green and white suit Narsus. I wear only blues."

"O...oh." I fumbled, ushering him towards his closet. Dinner began in fifteen minutes and I had my arms full of a squirming princeling and my head full of an enraged swordsman. Why did I ever leave my post?

~*~

I sat myself close to Arslan that evening, knowing the boy would be overly excited at the idea of seeing his mother, the queen. She would not talk to him, I already knew that. So I planned to be there to distract him from unhappiness if needed.

Across the table sat Narsus, absently stirring his soup with a golden spoon. Several men attempted conversation, but he looked miles away, in misery. Misery I created. I could kick myself.

"There, there, Lord Narsus," the dark-haired foreigner purred. "I fear your country’s dry climate compels everyone close to tears. You look so sad." His accent was thick, telling me he was not as highly bred a man, as he would have us think.

"Not sad, sir," Narsus rejoined, in a schooled and sheltered voice. "Simply bored to tears." He waved an elegant hand as if to indicate the unbearable dullness of life at court.

"Perhaps you need more lively company?" came his snide little remark. I would sooner trust the minstrel than this dark buffoon of a man.

Narsus shifted a little in his seat. "I might take you up on that offer later, sir. Perhaps a dance tomorrow at the King’s festival?" He smiled brilliantly. I could tell he faked it. Why did he persist in chasing all these men? And such unworthy men. He should belong to me, to someone who knew how to love him properly.

"Do men dance together in Parse?" The Shindran chuckled.

"They do far more than dance, sir," I sneered. "Just ask Narsus."

Narsus rose from the table and walked out of the room, heading sharply for the balcony. The dark man bowed to me, as if to thank me for the opportunity, and then slinked after Narsus.

I fumed, though whether at the little sycophant, Narsus, or myself, I just wasn’t sure.

Jealousy.

I felt so jealous of Narsus. No, of all of Narsus’s other lovers. I wanted to lie between the man’s legs, dammit, but clearly I wasn’t as worthy as this skimpy little idiot from the South. Why? WHY, Narsus?

I moved to the balcony, catching a glimpse of Narsus with his head close to the foreign dignitary. A kiss no doubt. Something in me buckled. I marched straight out to the balcony and clasped my hand firmly over the snipe’s shoulder.

"I think you better leave us, friend. I have something to discuss with Narsus." I left no room for misinterpretation.

"Parsian customs are so infuriating!" He whined before snapping around to exit.

"That was very rude." Narsus chided.

"I know," I said casually. "It’s one of my best talents."

"What is?"

"Being rude. I can’t seem to stop being rude, all over the place, especially in your presence. It must be my barbarian roots."

Narsus looked unsure as to whether he should smile or slap me. I would have taken either. Anything other than coldly standing so far away from me.

"I am an ass," I said simply. "An utter fool."

"W...What?"

"I let my desire for you rule my tongue. Among other things." I walked over to him with dangerous intent. Narsus backed up to the edge of the balcony.

"Retreat? How unlike you," I said.

Narsus gasped and almost fell over the rim. My hands came out to steady him. "Don’t worry; I’ll catch you," I whispered. I brought my lips to his temple, drawing him in close.

"Darun!"

"Where’s the sweet and gentle Narsus I knew before? Where’s the dignity and wisdom? I worshipped you once, my lord. But you changed." I ran my hands through his hair. "When did you change?"

"Into the town slut, you mean?" I could hear the bile rising in his throat.

"Into a tease?"

"Are you sure that’s what I am, Darun?" Narsus challenged.

"I’m sure what you are not. You are not mine. A situation I wish to rectify immediately. What will it take Narsus?"

"Despite what you might think, Darun, I do not spread for just anybody!" Narsus stiffened in my arms.

I pulled him closer, so close our lips almost touched. "What will it take, Narsus?" I repeated.

He melded to me. I could sense the hairline fracture in his resolve. He put his hands upon my forearms.

"Oh Darun... don’t you know?" His breath fell warm onto my face.

I bent my head to kiss him. I kept it deliberately soft and gentle, brushing my lips over the corner of his mouth while I forced him to turn his head to me. At any moment he might bolt, like some nervous horse. I had to soothe him to make him stay.

"No, Narsus. Tell me. How should I win you?"

"Darun..." He lifted his face to me, begging another kiss. I hungrily replied.

"Narsus? Darun?" Our Prince, pushing through the curtains to find us.

"Tomorrow at dawn," I whispered. "If you win, then you may do with me as you like. If I win, then you belong to me, and me alone. Do you hear?"

My breath fell cool and harsh against his smooth cheek, but I felt him nod against me all the same. I pulled away in time to scoop up Arslan and carry him—piggyback-- into the hall. Narsus followed, slightly dazed. I congratulated myself, and we took our seats as the main course was served.

~*~

There’s such a fooled heart
Beating so fast
In search of new dreams
A love that will last

~*~

Amber rays of dawn combed through Narsus’s honeyed hair and distracted me as I unsheathed my sword.

"I may remind you, my lord, of your promise to me last night?"

Narsus lifted his head, eyes solemn. "If I win then I may punish you as I like. If you win..." He hesitated. "Then I am yours." He looked like a timid rabbit; his breast rising and falling rapidly with what I knew must be his racing heart.

"Yes. Mine. From then to the next dawn, mine and mine alone."

He peered at me. Then nodded.

I threw my scabbard to the ground. "Begin."

I have never seen Narsus so determined to win. I knew he hated the idea of being in my power, sure as any wild stallion would fight a bit. What he didn’t realize is that I had been waiting for a chance to make him mine since the day we first met here at court all those summers ago. The Gods provided me with an opportunity, and being a good soldier, I knew I would not relinquish it.

He jabbed at me, tearing a seam in my left sleeve. I lifted a brow, which egged him on. Over the head, then a balustre, and finally his infamous double disengage. None of it phased me.

We locked swords and I took the chance to herald the tip of my tongue across his chin. He stumbled backwards with a gasp.

"Have you no honor, sir!" he angrily shouted at me.

"Now, now, Narsus. Let’s not be hypocrites."

"You! You scoundrel!" He came at me again.

"Scoundrel? I like the sound of that, nobleman." I raised our swords up to sixth position and went for the kill. Narsus blocked my broad swing, but not before I clipped a flaxen strand of hair from just below his delicate left ear.

He gasped. "Is this how you intend to play?" Predictably, Narsus swung at me with a wicked lunge. It landed a bare inch from my privates. I stomped the urge to squeal like a girl.

"Narsus!" My voice cracked. "There’s no need to unman me!"

Narsus smirked. "You, sir, are no man. Animal!" He lunged for me again, and this time we locked in a death hold. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes, a mixture of hate and need swirling around us.

"I assure you, Narsus, I am very much a man."

He never knew what hit him. With my left thigh I pushed him backwards. My sword landing a slicing pupee. Shaken, disoriented, Narsus sprawled at my feet. My point rested at the hollow of his throat.

"I win," I said simply.

He panted, eyes wide, lovely mouth parted with shock. It took all the self-control I had not to throw myself upon him there and ravish those vulnerable peach lips.

"You...." He lay propped on his elbows, gaping at me.

"I win you," I stated again. I wanted to ingrain the thought into both of us. I swallowed. "You are mine until dawn, Narsus, as we agreed."

His chest heaved, and he shifted slightly to remove pressure from his bleeding elbows.

"Rise."

He got shakily to his knees and almost fell over, so I extended a hand and cupped his arm. He winced as I brought him level to me.

"You are hurt?" I asked, inspecting his wet elbows.

"It is nothing." His voice quavered.

I looked at him for a long time, then turned. "Come," I called over my shoulder. "There is much to do."

I could not be sure at first if Narsus would follow. But he had given his word—he had agreed to be my prize. So he followed my lead, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

~*~

"To the baths. We both need one. We spent half the day dueling and the festival is tonight after all." I made no small talk as he followed me, head down, to the pool. He must have thought I would hurl him onto the ground and rape or something, because he looked at me as if I were mad for suggesting a bath.

I smiled slightly. I liked keeping him off kilter; the bewildered expressions that crossed his exquisite face amused me to no end. I walked over to him and stared him directly in the eye as I peeled his tunic off and let it drop to the floor. Narsus looked totally astounded and I turned to hide my smile.

I stripped myself and calmly walked into the water. "Get in," I called out to him. I watched him remove his clothing rather reluctantly, enjoying his sudden embarrassment. The thought occurred to me that Narsus must not lose often. Or perhaps he had been used to being the one in control.

When he stood naked before me, his beauty overwhelmed me and I forgot to play master for a moment. But only for a moment. "Come here," I whispered.

He got into the water, waist high, wading over to me so carefully.

"I seem to recall you like having your back washed. May I?"

I didn't really mean it as a question, and he knew better than to answer me. I would do as I wished with him. A cloth hung on a rack, waiting to be my instrument of torment. I took it and waded back to Narsus, seeing the tension in his shoulders increase with each sloshing step. I stood behind him, listening to his rapid breathing. He didn't know what to expect, and I suspected he found the uncertainty both frightening and arousing. I waited until the small muscles of his neck quivered in anticipation, then slid my empty hand to grasp his hip, a silent command to remain still. With my other hand, I squeezed the cloth, releasing a maddening trickle of warm water across the crest of his shoulders. His body jerked at the sensation. I dug my fingers into his hip.

"I expect more self-control from you than that." I continued until his back glistened, the muscles slick with water and bath oil. Then I drizzled a thin stream of water across his shoulders and onto his chest. Narsus made a small, involuntary noise. No matter how much he pretended to merely endure the process, I knew he enjoyed it

I soaped the cloth and placed it in one of his hands. "Slave," I said, knowing the word would sting his pride, "attend me."

Narsus turned, his pupils as dark and endless as the night sky. Silently he ran the cloth over my chest and arms, wetting and scrubbing the dust and sweat from my flesh. His brows knit in concentration. I turned and let him do the same to my back. He placed a hand on my shoulder, inviting me into the water. I did so, if only to encourage him to touch me more.

Narsus surprised me. He began to work out the tension in my shoulders and upper back with his skilled artist’s hands. Then he waded quietly over to the rim of the pool and took a bottle of rich, creamy shampoo. He poured some, smearing it around his palms, then walked back over to me. I shivered slightly as the scent of it mixed with Narsus and filled my nostrils. He massaged my scalp expertly.

I purred. His fingers felt so good in my hair. He could do this to me forever.

"Lean back," he whispered.

His voice startled me. I thought his silence would be his resistance. I did as he asked and he cupped handfuls of water to rinse out my hair. This done, he stood behind me, awaiting new orders.

"Get some more shampoo," I spoke, not looking at him. "Get lots."

He did so and waited behind me. I turned. "Stay down in the water." Doing so, slowly, his hands held above the surface with fistfuls of cream. "I don’t want you to catch cold," I said, assuring him.

I took his hands in mine and smeared the soap across my fingers. Then I worked up a lather in the tangled nest of his hair. Narsus closed his eyes and leaned his head back. I suppose he had not expected such treatment, but he should have known I would not have harmed or humiliated him on purpose. Then again, I had not treated him kindly of late. Perhaps he had serious doubts as to how I would keep him.

"How does this feel?" I murmured, running my fingers along his scalp as he had done to me.

"It feels... nice..."

"Ah, so...." I continued to lather his mane until I reached the ends. "Lie back."

He lay out in the water, his hair floating like a veil around him. I ran my fingers through it, gently straightening out the tangles and working the suds out. "I love your hair, Narsus. Never cut it."

"In that case, I’ll never duel with you again." He smirked, then his face blanched, fearing a rebuke from me.

I laughed. "Good. I don’t ever want to fight you again. You were made for war between the sheets, my friend," I whispered over the top of his lips, before I kissed him.

"Mmmm." He groaned.

I straightened and pulled him up lovingly by the hair. "You were made for me."

He wrapped his arms around my neck and brought our foreheads together. I stroked my hands down his back, helping him relax into me. I needed him to want me. He became as much my master I became his, and I would make him see it.

"Dinner. Tonight is the festival of the King’s birthday."

That snapped Narsus back to reality. "Yes, the King. I... We should go."

He started forward and I caught his arm and forced him back. "Don’t forget who owns you tonight, my friend. I’ll not have you on anyone’s arm but my own."

"Darun--"

I brought my finger to his lips, silencing him. "Tonight you are mine, Narsus. No arguments."

Narsus huffed, and I smiled as I nudged him out of the pool.

~*~

The King’s birthday celebration spouted pomp and madness and none of it ever held my attention for a moment. I kept my noble slave on my arm all evening, not lifting my hand for a second. It thrilled me just to have him touch me, let alone to let all those ‘prying eyes’ see him do it.

Narsus seemed slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t really let it show. So much of Narsus hid behind a mask, but I began to see underneath. We greeted everyone, made pleasantries and spoke with our young Prince for a while.

The dark leech from the south stretched forth an invitation to dance but I shook my head no. Narsus looked as though he wished to speak with the man, but I would have none of it. I led him to the floor and ordered him to dance.

A bolero. Slow and sweet and full of gusto. Like my slave for the evening. We danced, drawing many eyes, including the King’s. But I didn’t care if he disapproved. Narsus may be his lover, but tonight I would not share him with all the Kings on earth.

As our palms flushed for turns, I ran my fingers over various parts of his hand, playing with his pads, brushing against the back of his thumb. With every touch and glance that evening, I reminded Narsus of what awaited him that night.

Only Narsus’s almost constant vigil of the dark foreigner ruined the moment. What could possibly be so enchanting about this man? He might be rich and handsome and have rank but... ah. Rich and handsome and has rank. Rank and riches I could never offer Narsus. Could he really be so shallow? Not the Narsus I remember. Never.

"Narsus?"

"Hm?"

I simply looked at him.

"Oh, sorry Darun. There’s been... much on my mind.... I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it. To ask your advice..."

"My advice? Since when do you go looking for that?"

"Be serious."

"I am serious. What is the matter?" I frowned.

"Darun... could you be... could you be the kind of man I could turn to... if there were trouble?" The dance led us in a brief circle and then he was back in my arms.

"Are you in trouble?" I asked, nervous for him.

"No... not me... I..."

"Narsus?" Another circle. Damn this dancing business anyway. Gentry had the stupidest customs sometimes. I wanted to take Narsus aside and ask him what troubled him, and how I could help. I did not like the thought of my dear one in distress.

"It’s just that lately--"

"Ah! Here they are! Narsus! Darun!" The King bellowed. "Come and congratulate me on being old."

We both stopped, Narsus staring at me with sad, cooling eyes. I got lost in their drowning depths. What troubled my nobleman?

"Sire?" I heard myself say.

"You are not yet old, your Majesty. Merely another year wise." Narsus smoothed over everything with his charm.

"Ah, Narsus, I do not like flattery… unless it is directed at me!" The King chuckled.

"Surely you have qualities exceeding flattery, my Liege," Narsus smiled, though I knew it meant nothing.

"Oh Narsus, your tongue is worth its weight in silver. Why not put it to good use and play it upon our good Shindran’s ear. I’m sure there’s much to say..."

The King nodded to that insufferable little sycophant on the dance floor and Narsus bowed dutifully. I wondered what the hell it all meant.

Narsus glanced apologetically at me and left to attend to the southerner, while the King condescendingly nodded and resumed his position next to the Queen. I sat down at the table next to the redheaded minstrel, Guieve.

Guieve passed me a slav of ale and I gulped it down. He passed me another, knowingly. I changed my opinion of this man. I liked him exceedingly.

"Love is an earthquake of tiny shivers through a man’s soul," he murmured under his breath, his eyes far away.

He made no other comment and I felt grateful for the chance to keep my eye on Narsus, who animatedly talked with the dark-haired man. I gulped another foaming mouthful down and settled in for what looked like another long evening.

About half an hour later, Narsus came back to me, a little keyed up.

"I’m sorry, Darun. I didn’t mean to stay so long away."

"You looked busy," I said coldly.

Narsus placed a hand on my arm. "I’m not busy any longer. I’m yours, till dawn, if I remember correctly."

That set fire straight across my belly and down into my groin. "You remember correctly."

Narsus nodded and licked his lips. An action which commanded my full attention.

"Let’s go," I started.

"But the King!"

"The King can have a grand enough birthday in our absence, Narsus. I want you. Now."

I stood up, taking Narsus by the wrist and yanking him towards the door. No one noticed as we made our way out.

He trailed along behind me, pulling slightly but not enough to break free. I quickened my pace, reaching the stairs and taking two at a time.

"Sweet Misra!" Narsus complained.

I chuckled. "Better start praying to Ashi," I commented dryly. I could hear Narsus swallow behind me.

When we got to my room, already softly lit of candles by the servants, I pulled Narsus to me and kicked the door shut. My arms went about him instinctively. "Now. Then. Narsus. Do you want to tell me what kind of trouble you’re in?" I murmured, about to capture him in a kiss.

He shook his head no.

"No? You don’t want to tell me?"

"It’s... nothing. It’s not a problem anymore. Darun..."

I drew him closer. "Good. You know you can always come to me. If you needed me, Narsus," I whispered.

"Darun--" he breathed into my neck.

"Do you need me, Narsus? As much as I need you?" I bent him to me then, forcing him back with my slow, branding kiss. It left him weak in the knees and he clung to me, as I clung to my control.

"Darun," he said again as he nuzzled the underside of my jaw, pressing close against me. I swallowed through the hum in my veins.

"Undress me," I whispered, not sure why we were being so quiet, but sensing that the moment as too fragile to interrupt with words.

Narsus sighed and began to unbutton my black tunic, his hand deftly pushing the gossamer material away from my chest. He placed little hungry kisses on my pectorals, and I dipped my head back as he coated my throat with his tongue. My hands tangled in his hair.

"Uhn. Keep going."

Narsus stepped behind me and pulled my shirt down past my elbows, then over my wrists, letting the cloth slide to the floor. He leaned into me from behind and wrapped his slender hands around my stomach. I covered his hands for a moment, then moved them to the top of my pants. Shakily, they unclasped the drawstring and smoothed the garment over my hips. I stepped out of the offending material, keeping my back to Narsus. Ever so slowly I turned and stood before him, naked, waiting.

He gaped. I couldn’t help myself but smile. When he caught me taking pride in his obvious impression with my body, he rolled his eyes. I reached out a hand and opened the doublet and tunic he had wrapped around his torso. They fell open easily once I tugged his green sash off. I placed the sash on the bed. "We’ll need that for later," I stated, noticing the darkening of his eyes at the suggestion.

I trailed two fingers down his chest, swirling tiny patterns around his rock hard abdomen. I undid his pants, barely brushing over his pelvis, then loosened the material until it crumpled to the floor. Narsus stood before me, naked but for the shirt that folded at his elbows, a god before a zealot.

"Lie on the bed."

His breathing quickened, and he walked to the bed, then gently sprawled over my mattress, face down. I puzzled at that.

I moved closer to the bed and drew a divan up under me. "You must truly think me a barbarian if you believe I would pounce upon you that way," I chastened.

Narsus twitched and sat up slightly.

"That’s it. Sit up on your knees. Good. Let me see you." I let my eyes travel the rounded curves of his buttocks, drinking in the mountains of muscle at the backs of his thighs. He turned.

Removing his hands placed modestly over his crotch, he revealed a gorgeous, semi-erect manhood. Slender, pale and long. As graceful as the man from which it sprang. I wanted to wrap my lips around it until he screamed with pleasure. But I kept myself in check. I had him till dawn. And I would have him until dawn. And maybe afterwards he would consider me worthy enough to come back to me. I resolved myself to entice him to it.

I raked my eyes up and down his glorious body, drinking in every crevice and mound of limb. "There is nothing that I see that does not please me."

He blushed! I could not bear modesty from Narsus.

"Touch yourself," I commanded.

"Darun?"

"Touch your face."

Narsus brought his hands to his face and lightly stroked, his confusion disappearing and re-emerging beneath his aristocratic hands.

"Hair," I ordered.

Narsus pet his hair, running his fingers through it. He closed his eyes. I wanted to remind him of the sensual creature he is. But I also wanted to remind him who’s sensual creature he is.

"Open your eyes."

He did so reluctantly.

"Look straight at me."

Pale twin pieces of stars stared at me from beneath a mass of milk-chocolate hair.

"Chest."

Narsus played with me a little, raking his fingers along his throat for a moment before descending to brush over his pectorals. He continued to stare at me as he touched his nipples.

"Yes," I said breathlessly.

He toyed with his own flesh, the sight making me so hard I wanted to stroke myself, but I concentrated on him instead.

"Keep going."

Narsus enjoyed this exhibition now. He had almost no hesitation as he gripped his penis and stroked it to life, biting his lip to keep from moaning.

"Eyes on me," I reminded him sternly.

Narsus pinned me beneath the slits of his eyes, pumping himself into hardness. I watched him as he began to stroke more roughly, moaning, and bring his hips forward to feel it more.

I breathed through my nostrils. "Stop."

He looked wounded. Perhaps he thought I would deny him release until dawn. He didn’t trust me at all. I would have to earn his faith this night. I got up off the divan and walked over to the bed, reaching my hand out to stroke his hair.

"Move up to the head of the bed, and then lie down. On your back," I teased, smacking him playfully on the behind.

He jumped a little and rested upon the sheets as I had ordered.

I took the silken green sash from the foot of the bed and twined it around my right hand. Slowly I rubbed my cloth-covered hand over his legs, delighting in the shaky breaths it drew from him. I made tiny silken swirls across his upper thighs, skillfully avoiding his twitching cock, running the cool material up over his left side and neck instead.

I unraveled the sash and took both of Narsus’s hands in mine, twining his wrists together with ease. He stirred a little, tepid, but I ignored it and tied his arms to my headboard. Then I leaned over him, careful not to touch him anywhere.

"Who owns you tonight, Narsus?"

He licked his lips. Defiance flashed in his eyes. "I’m not sure. Care to remind me?"

Ah. Here lay my Narsus. I grinned like a lion before a gazelle. "Looks like I’ll have to," I murmured.

I brought my head down, closed my eyes, and tenderly bit at his lips. I sucked and licked his mouth, never truly kissing him, instead making him lean up for the pressure I knew he craved. I ran my forefinger down across his cheek, letting it slide down his chest to tickle his abdomen before I brought it up to sweep him again. He moaned.

"Hmmm. Narsus..."

"Da—Darun..."

"Yes?" I asked distractedly between licks.

I raked my teeth along his abdomen planes, mapping my new territory with great sweeps of my tongue. He moaned and arched his back to me. Narsus resembled a cat most pleased with his petting. I smiled and worked him lower.

The tip of my tongue delved into his navel and he tensed, stifling a cry. I swirled the small well until I had him panting. I looked up at him then, anxious to see his face. He licked his lips.

"Who owns you tonight, Narsus?"

Sweat broke out on his brow. "No…" he whispered.

"Who?"

His eyes looked huge in the candlelight. "Darun…" he pleaded.

"Still need a reminder?"

With no further prelude, I took his penis into my mouth, letting it slide all the way back into the molten hot tunnel of my throat.

"Ahhh!" Narsus screamed as he threw his head back and pushed his hips off the bed. He began struggling against the sash bond, furiously attempting to get free. I pushed him back down, wickedly satisfied in my torture.

I nibbled at his cockhead, lapping his salty precum. "Such a gorgeous cock, my little slave," I praised him, stabbing my tongue into his slit.

"Ah! Ah!" Narsus’s screwed his eyes shut and panted openly now.

"Who owns you tonight, Narsus?"

"Never…"

Ah. A challenge. I slipped the tip of his tumescence back past my hungry lips, and sucked as powerfully as I could. "Mmmm," I groaned.

"Da—Darun! Oh, Darun!"

I roughly licked him, letting two fingers stroke his base, loving the way his hair tickled my nose. Then I cupped his lovely balls in a gentle vice and watched as he whined and pressed his hips up to me. I could sense his impending orgasm, so I backed off, simply holding his manhood within my powerful grasp.

Narsus whimpered. "Don’t tease me."

At this I lifted my head and raised an eyebrow.

"Please...."

Something in the way Narsus asked... pleaded. Desperate. I couldn’t bear those big round eyes. He is my weakness; he should have known I could not deny him his pleasure for long.

I kissed him, pressing my mouth firmly to his, coaxing it open and then stroking my tongue within the warm depths. He moaned and leaned up to me, so I brought my weight down upon him. This seemed to appease him greatly.

"Pleased?" I couldn’t help asking.

"Hmmm. I love your weight on me. Makes me feel so safe..." he said absently. He rocked up to me almost imperceptibly.

I licked his throat and ear by then, but paused to ask, "Safe from what, Narsus?"

"Darun," he pleaded, turning his head to give me better access. I plundered his ear, all thoughts of conversation galloping away from me. I traced my tongue along the shelled labyrinth, then blew warm breaths over my work. Narsus shuddered.

I began to suck on his neck, somehow sensing this would be a weak spot for him. Narsus did not disappoint. He arched back and sutured himself to my mouth. The kiss snatched my breath away.

"I want to taste you, Narsus. I want to taste what all your other lovers have. Hold nothing back from me tonight!"

I began to rock my hips down to him, overjoyed when our throbbing dicks scraped against each other. "Oh, Ashi, Narsus, open your legs..." I moaned into his ear.

Narsus spread his legs slightly, and I nestled between them, steeling my resolve to please for as long as I could. I pressed our passions together, listening for his panting breaths and baiting moans. I brought his right leg up to my hipbone and began humping him in earnest.

Narsus gasped then, lifting his hips to keep our straining aches together.

"Oh, Darun..." My body sang each time he called my name.

I kissed him deeply, loving the friction building between our swollen flesh. I took his slick member in hand and teased it with feather-light touches. I mapped every vein and fold of skin on that glorious cock, now glistening with streams of precum. I wanted to bathe it again, but instead I took my index finger and smeared it around his cockhead. He groaned, watching me do it to him.

I spread his legs wider, and trailed a hand down his chest until it met my other hand. Making a snug tunnel with my palms, I gave Narsus a heated look, before I lowered my head to flick his tip. I stabbed his slit with the tip of my tongue for the second time. He shined, so gorgeous in his disarray! Narsus shook his head back and forth now, humping his hips off the bed to get more of himself into my mouth.

I wanted to be a kind master. So I took him all the way in and sucked him as best as I knew how. I loved his scent; loved the way his penis crammed down my throat. It fit just perfectly, and I could take him all the way. He called my name on occasion, and twisted his arms in attempt to get free.

I sat back and watched this beautiful creature writhing in my bed, overcome with the need to have him wrap his limbs around me and beg me to give it to him. I quickly untied him and Narsus snaked his arms around me instantly. He clawed my back and pressed my weight down on him again. Oh gods, it felt so good.

He hurled me onto my back and nuzzled kittenishly against my right thigh. Hungrily, he lapped at my pulsing shaft and I thrashed like a fish upon dry land. Panting, I sat up on my elbows and stroked my knuckles down his cheek. I knew if I didn’t stop him now, I would be spent too soon.

"Wait here," I said, pained.

~*~

Within your heart
I’ll place the moon
Within your heart

~*~

I got up and went to a nightstand, removing the salve I kept for sore muscles from training and riding. I set the stuff by the bed, but before I could resume my place, Narsus pulled me down over top of him and began kissing me with unbridled lust.

I couldn’t bring myself to stop him; playing master and slave no longer interested me. I wanted Narsus in my bed, not some mindless sex servant.

We rolled about for long moments, sometimes receiving kisses, sometimes taking them. Narsus explored me with his hands and I arched into his caress. I brought his right hand down to my turgid staff and held his wrist as he jerked me across his palm. I groaned. Narsus tugged on my flesh with sincere enthusiasm.

"How is this?" he asked me.

"Harder," I said through gritted teeth.

"Do you like it hard, Darun?" Narsus questioned.

Which sparked off another fierce kiss and frantic humps into his hand. "Uhhh..." became the most intelligible thing I could say.

I felt myself getting too close; I stopped him.

"What now, master mine?" Narsus said as he kissed my temple.

"Now I take you good and properly, my beautiful slave boy." I reached for the salve, dolloping a fist full of the cold goo unto my fingers.

Narsus watched me as I brought my hand to his hardness and gently rubbed.

"Cold!" he cried.

"Not for long," I smiled as I gripped his slender flesh and worked him faster. He whimpered and his head fell to my chest.

"Narsus. Take some..."

He took the salve and spread it on his right hand, then brought that hand to my rock hard cock. I stared into his eyes as we felt each other through slicked fingers. Never taking my eyes from his, I slipped my left hand around his waist and brushed two fingers over his delicate entrance.

I took my time in stretching him. My assumptions had proven correct; Narsus must usually be on top, his tightness gave him away. His channel gripped my digits greedily, making me even more eager to invade him. When Narsus began to thrust back against my fingers, I knew we could both wait no longer.

I took my erection in hand and lovingly guided Narsus to sit atop me. "Go at your own pace," I granted him.

He climbed onto me, impaling himself so quickly we both yelped. Narsus clung to my shoulders, burying his head into the crook of my neck. He sobbed softly.

"Shhh. Shhh, baby. Uhm. Gods, but you feel good...." I held him there for several minutes, stroking his hair down to its tips.

Narsus smiled shyly and began to move off of me, coming back down more carefully. I watched the knotted muscles of his tawny thighs as he fucked himself on my prick. After several shallow thrusts I needed something more.

I rolled us over, until I leaned atop him, and I lifted one of his legs to my shoulder. I moved slowly in, slowly out, resisting the urge to pound into that blissful ass spread beneath me. I knew my thickness, and I feared I would hurt him.

"Narsus, are you all right? Does it hurt, baby?"

Narsus nodded that he felt all right. "Don’t stop," he begged. "More....more, Darun!"

I kissed him, stroking deeply inside of him. "You owns you tonight, Narsus!"

"You do! You do, Darun! Take me… make me yours…."

A strange raw force flooded my veins and I abandoned my iron control. I drilled into him, loving his moans and gasps for more. Like me, the more heated and frenzied, the more he wanted it. His grip on me became fantastically tight, and I jabbed my manhood deeply, touching all the best spots within my lover.

Soon Narsus lifted both his legs and hooked them behind me. His hands gripped the straining muscles of my lower back, and he pulled me farther into him.

I shook the bed with the force of my thrusts, my lips never more than a breath away from his. Raising his right leg up farther, I pumped into him as deeply as possible. I reached my hand down and stroked him in time with each rock, kissing him passionately as we both tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.

I collapsed in his arms and he curled around me. I breathed in the faint scent of his hair, which tangled about me everywhere. He gifted me with languorous kisses, welding our souls together. Carefully, I pulled out of him, wincing with him at his sudden pain. I noticed quite a bit of blood. He must be extremely sensitive.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"Yes. Oh, yes." Narsus nuzzled contently against me and I turned to lie on my back, scooping him up in my arms. He rested his head on my shoulder, and twined his long, lithe legs around mine. I pulled the covers over us, and nestled in to cuddle and coddle this amazing man. He sighed like a child in his mother’s arms.

I knew right then, that I loved him. Had always loved him. Always would love him. Someday, I would have the courage to say it. For now, I locked him tight within my embrace and settled to rest. Soon I would stir him again, and we would go on like this until long after the candles burned themselves out.

~*~

I awoke to a cold and empty bed. The reality that Narsus had left with the first rays of dawn stung as painfully as any wound I had received in battle. Had I been so bad a lover? Did he not come to me willingly? Why did he leave me to wake alone?

Had I been just another fuck to him?

I bounded out of bed, fueled by pure fury and wounded pride. I hurriedly shuffled into my clothes and flew out of my room. I didn’t know quiet where to begin.

Not in his room. Who’s room could he be in? Maybe the stables? I walked down the stairs and checked the kitchen. Wenches and servants. I walked across the courtyard, fleetingly wondering if he had gotten into whatever trouble he had previously spoke of. Had he been into something dangerous? Or had he kept the King’s bed warm? Where is the man that spent the night screaming joyously in my arms?

Why, in another’s arms, of course!

He stood in the hallway in front of Ashi’s west temple door, locked in an embrace with the dark-haired Shindran of all people! I walked down the hall, staring at Narsus with each step. When he saw me his eyes widened. I marched over to them, watching Narsus tense with each step I took. If I could have murdered him with my eyes, I just might have. Instead I coolly walked right past him, as if he meant nothing to me at all.

~*~

The afternoon sun bore down heavily. I pushed Arslan hard. I drove him back with sharp lunges, sending my sword in random arching thrusts. It felt so good to just let the hate flow through my arm. Hate for Narsus!

How could he? How could he warm my bed, beg me to make love to him all night, and then exit my room—sheets not even cold—and drape himself onto that-that-that bloody leech!

Suddenly Arslan lay on the ground crying.

"My Liege?" I asked, instantly terrified. I flung my weapon to the ground and rushed forward.

Arslan bled! His little left arm cut ever so slightly just below the elbow.

"Oh, my Liege!"

Arslan sniffed and looked up at me. "You…. hurt me…" he said, utterly mesmerized.

My heart burst right there. I had wounded the child that trusted me with all his heart, flung himself into my arms everyday, loved and worshipped me beyond any loyalty I had ever known. And in my anger at Narsus, I had struck out at him!

I dropped to my knees before him and tried my best to hold back hot tears. "For…forgive me, Arslan. I would never knowingly hurt you…"

"I know that…Darun… You’ve not been yourself lately…" Arslan said, trying to comfort me, though he remained the one in true pain.

I clutched him to me and buried my face in his soft locks, shaking, trying my best not to loose some semblance of sanity. "Arslan…I… have no excuse. I am so unworthy of being your tutor."

"Darun?" Arslan lifted my head from his shoulder and planted the softest kiss upon my closed mouth. "I trust you, Darun," Arslan whispered.

Arslan. Sweet Arslan. I knew I would love him until the day I died. I wanted to tell him so, but I couldn’t find my voice. I hugged him tight, then set him back on the ground and inspected the tiny laceration. I stripped off a part of my sleeve and bound thin redlined flesh. I kissed his makeshift bandage and rose to my feet.

"Your pardon, your Highness. I fear I need some time alone… to sort through some things…"

He nodded, looking wiser than his years would permit me to believe. "Hurry back, Darun. Tonight is the epic play Narsus composed for father’s birthday!"

I grimaced, wanting nothing more than to never set eyes on that harlot again. But Arslan looked at me with pleading seaside eyes. How could I refuse him anything? "Yes, my Prince. I will sit beside you, if you wish."

He smiled beatifically at me. "Of course I wish."

I bowed and stalked off deeper into the garden. I didn’t really look where I went—I just had to get somewhere secluded, before the dam in my breast flooded into my eyes. I found a small clearing with one lone tree, its branches twisting low to the ground. I threw myself upon the lowest bow and wept loudly. Not since I wore swaddling clouts had I wailed so pitifully.

Through my sobbing I could hear a quick rustling amongst the fallen leaves and I wished I’d had my sword just then. To my surprise, a light hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"Darun?" a gentle voice called to me.

I lifted my head and eyes to see Narsus standing before me, his lavender tunic clinging slightly to his waist and muscular arms. I wrenched myself away from him with a disgusted sound.

"Darun, what’s the matter?" Narsus’s worried voice begged.

I turned my angry stare on him, my voice as cold as the center of Hell. "Don’t mistake me. These tears aren’t for you! I was... so angry with you... that I hurt... I hurt Prince--" I didn’t even get all the words out because of my sobbing.

Narsus drew forward. "What do you mean you hurt the Prince?!"

"He’ll be all right. I knicked him in a fencing lesson. The boy even continues to trust me..." I snickered, letting sarcasm drench into my heart. "Though I don’t know why. I don’t even trust myself anymore!"

"Darun!"

"Look, Narsus! Are you happy? Have you conquered me completely enough now? Look at what you’ve reduced me to!"

"Darun, what are you talking about? What has happened? Is it because I left you this morning? I did not wish to wake you--"

"Oh no! You wouldn’t want to delay meeting that skunk of a southerner any moment longer I take it. What’s the matter, Narsus? Didn’t I screw you enough last night? Were you afraid you wouldn’t get fucked hard enough if you waited in my chambers? So you went to him? Or was the King’s bed too cold? Was the royal door locked, Narsus?"

Narsus drew back as if I had burned him.

"Darun, do you really believe...?"

"Don’t play wounded innocent with me, you... you whore," I whispered, staring at him with utter contempt.

Narsus drew up and opened his mouth to yell, but he just stood there, frozen. His eyes began to brim with tears and with a gasp he fled from the garden. The reaction seemed so unlike Narsus that I staggered, stunned. When the reality of the morning sank in, I lowered myself back to the bow and wept some more, quietly this time, for the love I had lost.

~*~

That evening everyone gathered in the theatre to see the play that Narsus had written for the King. Had it not been for Arslan, I would have given my notice as royal guard that night, and ridden back to camp where I belonged. The boy tied me to him with knots of love so tender that I could not bear to part from him. But he remained my only joy, and he could not keep the bitter venom from my breast. Only Narsus could ever do that, and Narsus would never be mine.

Arslan looked up at me, his sapphire eyes peering into my soul. He squeezed my hand, and said, "I am sure tonight’s performance will be brilliant, Darun. Father says he is a genius with words..."

"Yes," I replied in a monotone. I absently wondered if Narsus said the same things to the King that he said to me just last night...

Don’t stop, my love. I need you... burn for you... oh, Darun, you are the captor of my heart.... Yes, my darling, yes... oh! Make me yours...take me and make me yours...

I remembered the sweet ecstasy as I stroked inside of Narsus, his smooth thighs rubbing against my own as he lifted to welcome me... His long silken hair tangling me into his web.... His breath panting softly in my ear, precious words of encouragement, so sincere.... His eyes, dark and nervous... like when I saw him at Ashi’s temple in the arms of—

"Darun?" Arslan asked, noticing my grip on the chair.

"It’s nothing, your Highness. Look, the play is about to begin!"

The lights dimmed and the musicians began to play. Narsus had written an epic to Parse in honor of the King’s birthday. It had been completed with dance and song. I felt determined to hate every second of it. But just like its author, the work captured my fascination wholly.

The actors were all right, I suppose. I am, as Narsus so often reminds me, not a connoisseur of the arts. The plot intrigued me, however. Narsus retold many of the legends of Parse, interweaving them through chorus and dance, as well as brief scenes between the acting troupes. One particular story sent pangs into my stomach.

A knight and lady fair were clearly in love, although they didn’t realize it… and things developed rather nicely in their romance. That is, until the villain, an evil Prince from one of Parse’s rivaling countries, threatened to kill the knight if the lady refused to marry him. Wishing to protect her love, she agreed and they were wed. The knight believed she had betrayed his affections for the riches of a ruler and publicly humiliated her. She grieved for days. The villain, angry at the knight’s slander, ordered his guards to murder him, but the lady jumped in and took his blow. She died in his arms, confessing her love even then. Many of the ladies in the audience cried over their fated parting.

I scanned the audience for Narsus, but I could not see him. I looked to the highest box, spotting his Majesty, who looked intently on Arslan. Why did he stare so at the boy? I looked over, assessing the child currently enraptured in the storytelling, and then back up at the King. Nothing kind or inquisitive filtered the King’s gaze. It made me uneasy. Something felt hideously wrong.

As the play drew to a close, with a spectacular rendition of one of Parse’s victory battles over the Southern borders, someone screamed loud enough to make my blood run thin.

Arslan and I looked up so see the Queen shriek as an arrow hit the wooden box before her feet. Instinctively I drew my sword and looked for the assassin. I saw across the room the redheaded minstrel with a drawn bow and arrow. I raised my sword to hurl his death at him from across the room, when suddenly his arrow shot a man hiding up in the rafters.

The assassin fell to the floor, his black hair and dark skin unmistakable in origin. I looked over to see Narsus grappling with the sycophant Shindran in the box across from ours. Arslan drew in a sharp breath as the man shoved Narsus’s head against the golden railing. I could see blood drip down my love’s face from my position beside Arslan.

The man raised a dagger to Narsus’s throat, intent to kill, when I hurled my slender katana across the room. I missed, jabbing my weapon into his leg. He pulled the blade away and began limping off.

"Stop him! He’s getting away! Narsus!"

Narsus raised his head, now covered in red blood, as if trying to make out the words I had shouted at him over the commotion. Suddenly Narsus’s pale eyes became huge and he threw himself over the balcony into the seats. He ran towards me, and time seemed to slow. I watched him charge. His blood soaked hair clung behind him. His shirt billowed to his sides. He looked beautiful and deadly and I knew he came to kill me. Narsus… part of the plot. I slipped my dagger from its sheath in my boot and prepared to meet Narsus as a soldier... when suddenly I felt Arslan cower beside me and a strong gust of air overhead. I turned to see another assassin, clad in the black garb of Shindra, raise his sword to cleave Arslan in two.

I stood in front of my Prince and prepared to meet a warrior’s end, when suddenly Narsus flew between us and lifted his hands to the lowering blade. Thus diverted, the weapon lodged itself not in Arslan or I, but in Narsus’s breast. As Narsus began to fall I thrust my dagger into the man’s eye, letting his warm blood gush down my arms and across my face.

Guieve and his swift arrows took care of the rest of the rats in the rafters, though no one saw where the Shindran dignitary got away.

Seeing that Arslan had been unharmed and their Majesties were still alive, I knelt on the floor beside Narsus.

He did not move. He seemed suddenly much smaller than I remembered, and his face turned white. I gently nudged him over onto his back, and lowered my head to listen for his heartbeat. Not that I could have heard anything over the rush in my ears, but it gave me comfort to perform these tasks—to keep busy and not fall apart.

Narsus’s slender hands came up to thread through my hair, keeping me against him, and he petted me gently as he struggled for breath. I lifted my face slightly to look up at him, but I did not remove my head from his trembling hands.

"Darun..." he whispered.

"Narsus! Hold on! The physicians--"

Narsus wracked with coughs, and some blood trickled down his chin.

"Oh, Narsus... What happened?" I said, more to myself than anyone else.

"Shindra… he was behind it... all of it.... the King.....Darun.... tried to tell you...." Narsus lay, gasping now.

I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, and I didn’t care at that moment. I leaned over him, desperately clutching at him, trying to run my hand through his mane soothingly. "Shhh. Shhh, now. Everything is all right. You’ll see. You can tell me later..."

Narsus clawed at me, his eyes brimming with tears. I knew he felt desperate to tell me something, but he couldn’t make out the words. "Just hold on, Narsus...."

"The....King...." he whispered, stroking a shaking hand down he side of my face. He closed his eyes and lost consciousness against my chest.

~*~

As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone
Wasn’t too much fun

~*~

"Narsus!" Arslan wailed.

"Be still, my son. It was for the greater good." I turned to see the King tower over us.

"Father, how can you-"

I grappled Narsus closer to me and stood up, carrying him as I would a newborn infant. "Physicians. Now. Tell them to meet me in Narsus’s quarters!" I barked orders at the King and I didn’t even consider it twice.

Time is of the essence. With every second, more precious blood leaked out of the bearer of my heart. I raced towards his chambers, using the servant’s passageways and short cuts along the way.

When I got to his room, I gently placed him on the bed. Not even a groan reached my ears. "Don’t leave me, Narsus."

Trying to school my breathing back to normal, I searched for a cloth and basin and began swiping the blood out of his eyes. The gash on his forehead did not seem so very deep, but the wound in his chest...

I carefully unbuttoned his tunic, exposing the torso that I laved kisses upon not twenty-four hours before. Crimson rivulets stained my fingers, sticking to me just as it often had in battle. Except now I cherished every drop upon my hand, urgency twisting my guts into woven chinks of armor. Where were those damned doctors?

I pressed the cloth to the gaping wound, and watched as Narsus pursed his lips in pain, then went deathly quiet. "Narsus! Damn you! Hold on!" Angry, but more scared for him than anything, I trembled. That’s a lie. I felt scared for myself. My last words to my best friend and lover had not been ‘I love you,’ or even, ‘I care for you,’ but the cold accusation of ‘whore.’ He would die thinking I truly believed that of him. I could not bear it.

I touched our foreheads as he had done so often in passion last night and placed a soft kiss on his pale, dry lips. "Live, my love. Do not go where I cannot follow!" I begged in a whisper.

Then the door erupted and physicians and nursemaids were shouting over each other and moving things about the room. They shuffled me out before I could even protest. But I am not a hand holding kind of man. Better to let them do their work. I should go to the King and young Prince. I should be looking for the escaped assassin. I should not, above all things, hover outside his door like a lovesick puppy.

I sighed, and pulled up a chair.

Shortly after the King and an entourage of bodyguards found me outside his door.

"Sir Darun," he said coldly. "How is our lord?"

"I do not know, sire," I replied in a quiet voice. "No one has opened the door since I was shoved through it."

"I see. Well. Everything has its time."

I stood abruptly before the monarch, staring straight into his eyes—so harsh and unlike Arslan’s. "Your Majesty. I wish to know the full course of events. No one has told me of what has occurred."

"Isn’t that painfully obvious?"

"I beg your Grace to humor me."

"Indeed. We suppose, Darun, that we can trust you with this truth, considering all that has happened between us. Where shall we start?" The King leaned slightly upon the clean stone wall and narrowed his eyes on some fixed point in his memory.

"We discovered a plot amongst our allies in the South. We intercepted a courier several weeks ago. Vital information was placed in our hands, and we used it to our full advantage. Our Southern brothers believed their correspondence to be correct and genuine and we used that to unravel their plans for war. However, our royal advisor, Lord Narsus, suggested that the enemy would do better to simply assassinate our family and claim the throne as aid to our people. We therefore entrusted Narsus to unravel this attempt on our head, and so he did. In the most convenient manner possible. He seduced all of the possible candidates for assassin, narrowing them down to the minstrel, the Shindran and a merchant from across the sea."

"I see," I said, dismayed. "He got into their heads by bedding them."

The King frowned. "You do our good advisor no credit, Darun! The last I checked—and this would be the morning of two days since—our young nobleman was untouched."

"Un...untouched my Liege?"

"Are you deliberately being simple, Darun? Lord Narsus, as all gentry nobleman before marriage, is a virgin."

I collapsed to the floor, landing with my legs sprawled out before me.

Oh yes, Darun, you are the captor of my heart... Take me.... Make me yours....

~*~

At all

But I’ll be there for you
As the world falls down

~*~

My breath hitched in my chest and I shook as surely as any newborn calf. Narsus. A virgin in my bed. Narsus. Whom I had called whore. Who bled as I took him beneath my sheets. Who now lay dying in his chambers, alone, all for the sake of his King and Country, at the sacrifice of his life and reputation. All for me. I clutched my heart.

"Sir Darun? You seem ill. What troubles you, lad?" The King reached out to lend me a hand.

A hand which I did not take, as blackness claimed me.

~*~

When I came to, I lay in my own chambers, still in my clothes caked with an assassin’s and Narsus’s dried blood. I rose slowly to a sitting position as it all washed over me.

Narsus!

Pulling myself together I opened the door and bolted for his wing, pushing past perplexed servants to gain access to his boudoir.

"Narsus?"

A healer turned. "You should not be in here young man," he said sternly.

"Go fuck yourself," I said, beyond caring.

He chuckled. "Ah. I see. His lover. It must be."

I contemplated running him through. "How is he?" I asked instead.

"We have patched the wound. It is a very good stitch. I doubt there will be much of a scar. Assuming he lives through the blood loss. But there is little any of us can do with that, but pray to the Gods. And hope that fever doesn’t set in." The man turned and wiped some of his instruments clean.

I looked over at Narsus, unaware that my feet dogged my eyes. I stood over him, allowing my right hand to trace his cheekbone.

"Why didn’t you tell me, Narsus? None of this makes sense. The whole world has fallen down!" I cried.

"Please, young man. If you are going to stay, try to remain quiet and let him get some rest. Here, sit in this chair, and watch over him this night, sir." The doctor pushed a chair up to Narsus’s bedside and then placed a few more vials on the nightstand and turned to leave. I realized the late hour.

"The Prince? Sir, know you anything of our Prince?"

"No, sir. I have been operating on your friend here all night. Though I assume if there were bad news, it would have reached us by now."

"Ah. So, you saved Narsus. I am indebted to you, sir."

"Thank me when he wakes, Sir Darun."

With that the healer left me to steal my glances upon Narsus alone.

He is beautiful even in death-like slumber. I breathed when he did, stirred when he did, and stared at him, willing his eyes to open. I could see sweat break out on his brow; I could see his tremors beneath the blanket. Fever. Perhaps the blade had been poisoned and it is hopeless after all. But I couldn’t believe the great Narsus could be brought to such an end. Not like this. Not before his twentieth year!

I sat close to him, and cupped his hand in mine. Perhaps I am a hand holding kind of man, after all. His fingers felt so cold! Don’t you give up on me so easily, Narsus!

I tried to piece together what had happened. Narsus had been part of a counter plot to reveal an assassin to the royal family. He did so through flirting and the welding of certain conversations. But he had come to my bed—as my slave, I remember with a heavy blush—an inexperienced virgin. I had attributed his nervousness to his dislike of being on the receiving end of things. I realized now it was because he thought his first time would be wasted.

But he yielded to me more sweetly than I ever imagined. For me, it felt like the merging of two souls. And when I awoke without him that morning, and saw him in the assassin’s arms, I had foolishly believed him to have betrayed me for rank and riches, when in reality, my distrust had betrayed him.

I cringed to think of the countless insults he bore from me, in order to maintain his cover as the—what did he call it? Town slut. Forsaking everything—even his honorable reputation—Narsus saved our young Prince.

You saw only what you wanted to see. You did not see the truth until it was too late. That is your weakness.

I shuddered, just now realizing what Narsus tried to tell me.

Perspective is everything.

Oh Gods! He kept trying to tell me, hadn’t he?

Oh, Darun. Could you be the kind of man I could turn to in trouble?

And what had been my response? To repeatedly chastise him in public, even in the presence of the young Prince! I had defeated him and made him my slave. I ravished him and then called him a whore for it! I remain unworthy to breathe air while he lay in the throws of fever!

I buried my head just above his hipbone, whimpering in my agony.

"Darun..." I heard him whisper.

I looked up. "I am here!" I shouted, excited.

But he dreamed. Dreamed of me. I ran the backs of my fingers across his face, pausing at the teeth marks still imprinted on his neck. But one day before the world was so solid and stale before me. And now nothing remained certain but my love for this man, and his impending death.

~*~

I awoke with a pain in my neck sore enough to swear. Gentle fingers ran through my unruly mane and I looked up to see a pale, sickly Narsus smile weakly at me.

"Narsus!" I breathed.

He blinked and nodded his head ever so slightly.

"Oh, my love! You’re awake!"

Narsus regarded me silently, too drained to speak.

"Do you feel all right? Is there anything I can do for your comfort?"

"No, Darun," he whispered. "But stay with me a little?"

"I will never leave you, Narsus," I promised most emphatically.

He raised a cynical eyebrow, and I smiled to see my old Narsus back.

"Narsus, can you ever forgive me? I so horribly misjudged you! Can you--"

He raised two fingers to my lips, and then his hand fell back to his side, limp with exhaustion.

"They say..." he began, laboring with breath, "that I am a genius. But, I believe I have fallen in love with a fool... which makes me... an even greater fool." He smiled his perfect smile, one that assured me he had a dozen more witticisms and proverbs to share on a later occasion.

"I love you, Narsus. Promise me you won’t die."

"Someday, Darun," he gasped, "but not today!"

I crawled into bed with him and lifted him into my arms, settling him on his side to nestle in close. I stroked his tresses and murmured to him, "I’m going to make it up to you, Narsus. I’ll make you so happy..."

"Darun.... If you want to make me happy... then just hold me tight..."

I pulled him deep into my embrace, placing kiss upon kiss on his brow, singing him gently back into sleep. I didn’t want him to go between the worlds of awake and sleep. I could not be sure he would come back. But at least our last words had been ones of love....

~*~

I’ll spin you moments of gold

I’ll send you Valentine evenings

Filled where strangers can love

And losing the path

~*~

Some handful of hours later, as the sun began a descending arch, Narsus stirred within my grasp. I looked down at him, to see his bright, glassy eyes beaming up at me.

"What are you doing?" I murmured.

"I’m looking at my love," he stated simply.

"I confess I expected poetry out of you, nobleman. I did not think I would gain so honest a lover..." I kissed his hair.

"I cannot hide from you, Darun. Not any longer..."

"How do you feel?" I asked, blinking away the wetness behind my eyes.

"Like I have been stabbed with a sword."

"I have been called a vigorous lover by some, but you go too far." I smiled softly.

Narsus chuckled, but his eyes held little mirth. "Have you had many other lovers?"

"Only one that counted."

"Oh." Narsus drew a nervous breath. "Where are they now?"

I swallowed. "They are in my arms."

Narsus nuzzled me and I began to make swirling motions with my hands. He sighed and pressed up against me.

"You must get well, soon, my nobleman. I have the need to make you mine again."

Narsus kissed my neck and sighed deeply. "You already have, Darun. Yours..."

He began to go back to sleep, but I did not get alarmed. He felt warm but steady against my body and the threat of a fever now seemed less so.

The old oak door squeaked open slightly. I tensed, keenly aware I left my weapon in a theatre box hours ago.

The tiny golden cap of Arslan’s head peeked through a crack in the door. "Darun?"

"Yes, my Prince?" I responded warmly, happy to see he was all right, but... "Where are your guards?"

"I sneaked out just to see if Narsus was all right. Father said he couldn’t be bothered to look today, and I wanted to know!"

I frowned, displeased with both pieces of information.

Arslan stuck his head further into the door. "How is he?"

"I am well, your Highness." Narsus answered with closed eyes. I could tell the Prince had not been convinced.

"Come here, Arslan," I bade him gently. "Come see for yourself, my Prince."

Arslan crept into the chamber and padded to Narsus’s side of the bed to inspect him. "You look very white," he observed.

"Then, I shall have to take you... on a picnic....soon... and sit in the sun..." Narsus said, fighting to stay awake for the boy.

~*~

Between the stars
I’ll lay my love
Between the stars

~*~

I took pity on the child. "Say, Arslan? Would you care to join us for a nap?"

The boy brightened. "You mean it?"

"Of course. Draw the blinds shut and then hop in here with us," I said, only slightly aware that I just offered to nap like a pile of kittens with the future monarch of all Parse.

Arslan shrouded the room from the afternoon golds and then climbed up beside me.

"Now, be gentle. Narsus is still very, very sore."

"Indeed." Narsus smiled lazily at the young boy, amused that the child had no idea as to double entendre his just made.

Arslan crept between us, spooning tightly against me and nuzzling into Narsus’s open arms. Instantly our arms were full of squirming, sleepy princeling. Arslan yawned, and Narsus followed suit and I had to laugh softly at the picture of perfect indulgence they both made. It warmed my heart.

Narsus peered tiredly over Arslan’s head, smiling slightly as I placed my hand on his hip and gave him a reassuring squeeze. He whined slightly and my head shot up for a moment.

~*~

As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill is gone
Wasn’t too much fun
At all
But I’ll be there for you

~*~

I placed my hand under Narsus’s chin and forced him to look at me. After a while, the spasm of pain subsided. Narsus remained so still, that Arslan slept on, unawares.

"I love you," I murmured.

"I love you too," he whispered back. "Hold me?"

"Forever," I reassured him, as I watched sleep take over.

"Yours..." came the last word he said before slumber.

I replaced my hand on his hip and buried my nose into Arslan’s spun gold, more content in that moment than in any other of my life. My loves were safe in my arms, and as soon as they were both well and strong, I would find that Shindran bastard and make sure that no one ever had the opportunity to hurt them again. Least of all, me.

Strange what can change a man’s entire world. It isn’t events, battles, conquests or even betrayals. It is perspective.

~*~

As the world falls
DOWN

Makes no sense at all
Makes no sense to fall
Falling
Falling in love

~*~

If I had never been defeated, never loved him, then I would never have known. But now we have each other, our Prince nestled safe in our arms. I know that I belong to them both. I have been made for them. I fell completely and utterly in love with them. They had become my world.

~*~

As the world falls down
Falling
Falling
Falling in love...

~ As the world falls down ~

Beta’d & co-authored by RazorQueen. Tell her what a superb teacher she is: Razorqueen@aol.com

In loving memory of Shiozawa Kaneto, the voice actor for Narsus, Iason, Prince Diamond, and many others. Such a bright star could never truly burn out. (5/10/00) Find out more about him at: Hitoshi Doi's Seiyuu Database

Want more Arlsan fanfiction? Check out Sahari's shrine for that and lots more cool stuff!

Thanks to Narsus for this picture

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