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Author: Dying In Black
Title: Lavender Eyes
Rating: Rated R for adult situations, Abuse, Rape, Homosexuality, and Language
Summary: A peasant and a pleasure slave meet and realize they have more in common than looks and eyes. Love from a King and Knight, Lysander is torn, Jessamine a tortured soul who had never dreamt of love, until he meets Robyn. But love isn’t easy when rivals, enemies and pasts are mixed into them.
Chapter Three: In the Flat Field
There were hundreds of servants helping with the loading. Knights in armor stood beyond the gates, laughing and joking amongst one another. Village people talked amongst themselves each curiously leaning towards the far away carriage.
Four white horses stood calmly against each other, a few times nipping the other gently their trainer close by, petted their mane and stroked them to calm them down, obviously from the various of people that were bothering them. The carriage was dressed in silk hangings, the oak pricey by its enriched cherry red wood and specific carvings of flowers and vines. A woman in a hood stumbled out of the carriage wine and platter in hand as she walked away.
Lysander sighed and leaned against the soft cushions, he drank deeply from his goblet and stared out of the window. Fingertips held the silk fabric just an inch away so that he could peek out at the villagers.
King Devon had agreed to let him join the trip, with the help of Lysander’s coaxing of course. Lysander enjoyed the travel, despite his pleadings of riding along side the King himself he had been denied that little factor.
Lysander would bite off his tongue before mentioning to anyone that sometimes Devon’s possessiveness of him drove him up the wall more than often. He understood why the King had wanted him in the carriage, it was a lot more comfortable than riding on a saddle, definitely more appealing to those who despised the long hot weather and sun beating against their backs, but not many knew that Lysander himself had lived that life prior to his becoming the King’s lover.
His father had been strong, much like Devon he had used brawn to get things he had wanted. Lysander was quite the opposite, he had never had the brawn or strength to overcome ruthless leaders or fight against a man that towered over him. His presence had only demanded attention, whether he had wanted it to or hadn’t.
His father dark, blonde and blue eyed had made him travel with him at tender age of seven. They had gone off to other villages, had met primitive men and women, holy priests in the upper snowy mountains, had traveled far west to the balmy beaches and had always returned to their quaint little village. His father was a man who held himself highly and would have never desecrated his name for fear of destroying his honor.
And now Lysander wondered of what had become of his father. The man had beaten him black and blue after finding Lysander in the arms of another older man. Had disowned him and shut the doors.
Lysander had wandered his village desperately pleading with anyone to welcome him into their home and to no avail. He’d returned to an empty house, belongings gone, and father gone. And soon enough Lysander had left; he wanted to forget the things that were once there, the father who had been his only parent and only love.
Then again, Lysander could never imagine his life without King Devon. The man was so much like his father, strong, filled with pride and honor, and was dedicated to only one person the one he bedded night and day. He lavished him with attention gifts and love, much like his Father had long ago.
But Lysander knew times were changing. People changed. Just as Devon would soon, what would become of him when he began to grow old? When he began to loose favor with the King? When their burning love soon extinguished? It was inevitable, and Lysander knew well that he’d never be like Devon’s old lovers.
How they had clung to Devon as he had sent them on their way. Pleaded, cried, fought to keep their place by their King. Lysander had watched it happen. Had stood beside the newfound lover a mere servant to the little Adonis before he too had been banished and he himself welcomed.
The goblet he held was gripped harder, knuckles turning white as his breath labored and lavender eyes narrowed in odium.
He’d never allow it. He’d leave Devon before he’d be cast aside like a mere fly. He’d gone far and long being a nothing, and he wasn’t willing to returning into one. He wouldn’t cry and beg as the others had. He’d watch closely at signs of waning in Devon’s eyes and when he would fins any slightest hint he’d make sure that all the years spent in Devon’s bed chambers, would be without vain. He wouldn’t come out empty handed in the end.
“Lysander?” at Roberts’s concerned voice Lysander turned to look at the handsome man and feigned a smile.
“Robert,” he knelt against the knight and gave him a brief and consensual hug before returning to his seat and spreading his skirts “Are we almost ready to leave?”
Robert nodded his head and ran a nervous hand through damp black hair as he stared at Lysander’s face, eyes soft and warm that made Lysander take notice for the first time the way blue eyes whom he had been accustomed to see fierce and angry softened and inexplicably made him blush for the first time.
A little confused he fanned himself with a gloved hand “That’s good, will Devon see me before we set off?”
Robert’s face lost all warmth as blue eyes turned cold and he stood straight, massive shoulders at attention “Yes, King Devon is just consulting with Captain Hendrix he’ll be coming soon enough.”
“That’s good,” Lysander kept quiet a little unnerved and a little fascinated as Robert walked away without another word, back stiff as he barked out an order that made a servant carrying a basket of baked breads stumbling.
Lysander couldn’t help but smile a little, so the Knight had a little infatuation. He leaned back and toyed with a lock of hair, thinking of ways he could make that infatuation grow into something more. For his time was nearing, and maybe he was ready to move on. What better way to get back at the King then to openly suggest a relationship with his Knight? No other way, decided Lysander and giggled, things were certainly looking up.
-
Jessamine’s hands were raw. He knelt down again and began to scrub his clothes on the side of the rock as the white of fat he was using as soap flowed down the stream. His dark hair was loose and wet at the ends as he leaned down and scrubbed a pair of trousers.
A soldier stood beyond the trees hidden as he watched Jessamine wash, shirt loose and skirt pulled into a knot to settle between his legs.
It had been four weeks since his mother’s and twin sisters deaths, and the demoralizing event. He’d healed well enough and had managed to walk through the villager’s markets with his held high despite the fading bruises. He wasn’t a coward and he was letting his families name go on in ridicule, he’d been taught better by his mother.
The soldier leered, even as Jessamine had tried to ignore the man. Nearly forty the man’s brittle skin and coarse hands reminded Jessamine the day he’d been raped at the village’s pewter. He would not admit defeat even though the man made him want to scramble and run.
He had walked beyond the grove basket on hip dodging pieces of broken tree branches as he had made his way to the stream. The soldier had followed smelling of sweet ale and the strange juices of meat still lingered on the cuff of his shirt.
Jessamine chose to ignore him and soon he was finished with his washing as he rolled the pile of wet clothing onto his basket and unrolled the knot of his skirt and made his way back to the village the soldier at his heels.
The basket was heavy, filled with wet clothing and became a burden for Jessamine’s raw fingers.
“Want a little help?” at the soldier’s voice Jessamine quickened his pace, “Where ya going?” The soldier dodged his steps and ran a little ahead as he placed himself firmly in front of Jessamine “Such a pretty little sparrow” old hands grasped his wavy locks and rubbed them against a bearded chin.
Jessamine pulled away and quickly turned the other direction trying to loose the man as he circled a tree “Leave me alone,” he emphasized and threw a dirty look at the man.
“Where ya going? Let me help,” suddenly the basket was torn from Jessamine’s side as the man dropped it, clothing scattered onto the dirt.
“Imbecile!” seethed Jessamine as he knelt down to retrieve his soiled clothing before being completely attacked by the man’s wet sloppy kisses.
Arms pinned against his sides as his elbows dug painfully against his ribs and a heavy weight fell upon him, legs pinned by the man’s knees.
“Let me go!” he cried pitifully as he struggled against the man, frantically trying to move away. The man kissed under his chin and licked the underside of his ear before pulling back eyes gone soft with lust as he moaned painfully.
“So pretty,” he whispered, Jessamine hawked and spit at the man, it landed against the soldier’s face as he grimaced and wiped the nasty glob away with edge of his sleeve.
Outraged he growled and backhanded Jessamine who spit blood, cheek burning.
The man continued with his menstruations hands running across Jessamine’s body and face, he closed his eyes painfully humiliation and anger clear in his eyes as lips pressed in a thin line, he wanted the man to get it over with it, the faster he would come the quicker he could go on living his pathetic life.
Yet even as he thought that, Jessamine’s coherent side argued. He was no weakling and if he would fall…he would fall fighting.
“Let me go! Buffoon! I’m gonna scream my head off if ya don’t let me go!”
“And who do ya think will come save a peasant like you? Raped out in front of the whole village to see, no one saved you then what makes ya think anyone will save ya now?”
“Shut up!”
“Why pretty sparrow? It’s true, you’re nothing but a little whore now, what’s one more man?”
“I will kill you.”
“Yah? And you with what army?”
“There’s no need for an army sir, only for an ally,” Robyn grasped the man’s thinning hair blade of his knife gleaming brightly, held against the man’s Adam’s apple “Now I advice you to let me woman go, no use in soiling yourself as you say.”
Slowly the man let go of Jessamine who quickly scrambled out of the way, wiping cheeks, neck and mouth from the man’s saliva. The soldier stood, hands held abaove neck still exposed as the other man clad in black let him go.
He stumbled a little, but narrowed his shoulders and turned a burning look at the man “You’ll pay young one,” he sneered and turned away only to lock eyes with Jessamine as he grinned slyly “Be seeing ya pretty sparrow,” before making his way back.
“You okay?” Jessamine stared at his defender, dark green eyes, skin as dark as night, and hair a handsome shade of chestnut. The man was tall, muscled and clad all in black, even his horse who stood just a few steps away was lack as night, mane wild and untamed.
“Yes,” he lied and began to gather the soiled clothing as the other man bent down to help.
“A pretty woman like you should stay at home, you’re husband should have been here to protect you,” the man nodded his head and curiously looked at Jessamine who had falled silent lavender eyes wide with surprise. The man a little taken back when Jessamine threw his head back and a bubbly laughter erupted from his throat clear and beautiful.
Robyn could only grin at the sight of the pretty woman laughing, she had seemed cold and unmoving in the beginning, but now, Robyn did not know what to make of her. The woman was clearly beautiful.
“Shut up!” even as Jessamine cried it out he could not stop laughing, the man actually believed he was a she! Of all the idiotic things!
“But its true,” Robyn smiled.
“I thank ya for helping me, but Im not a woman.”
Curiously Robyn looked at the “not woman”, “You’re not? Then what are you?”
“I’m a man.”
Robyn blushed and it amazed Jessamine how his face dark as coal burned fiercely red “S-sorry, I just thought, you know with the, and the face, and laugh and I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Jessamine stood feeling confident as he took the basket and held it against his hip, despite the soiled wet clothing he grinned at the strange man.
“I better go,” suddenly desperate to run away Robyn walked away from the deadly attractive man.
“Wait!” Jessamine ran to catch up to the man pulled at his arm feeling the man go tense he quickly let go “I just wanted to thank ya, wont ya come back home with me and share a drink? My treat?”
Robyn knew he’d ought to decline, but just seeing the impossibly attractive man smile up at him, lavender hues twisted in glee he couldn’t help but agree “Sure, why not?”
They both walked together making their way to the village, black horse slowly following them as night began to descend.
February 6, 2006 8:43pm
