Title: Honor Bound 3/16

Author: Elandae (j_3101@yahoo.ca)

Pairing: Craig/Karl, Craig/Dave, Karl/Dave (implied)

Rating: NC-17 overall

Beta: my darling Daea

Disclaimer: Don’t know them, not one bit of this is true. Considering that it’s an AU, it really is just one big load of well…you know. *g*

Warnings: violence

Feedback: Love it!

Dedication: Bumblebee-a-tuna to *my* muse. *sneezes near you*

Website: https://www.angelfire.com/hero/worship0/homepage.htm

 

 

Chapter Three: Intrigued

 

 

            Craig could feel the harsh pounding of blood in his head, making every place that had been hit ache with each beat of his heart. He could taste his own blood on his tongue, a heavy metallic taste. There was a sharp pain just behind each shoulder blade from the insistent angle his arms were held at but he said nothing.

 

            They entered another room, this one simply decorated, though Craig’s eyes were drawn to the two men who stood talking, their backs to the door. One he recognized immediately from his dress as Aenan. The other man stood proudly, the line of his back straight, his shoulders broad and strong. He had short dark hair that curled just the slightest bit at the nape of his neck against tanned skin. There was an arrogance to his bearing, obvious from even the simplicity of his stance. There was something about this man that Craig knew he should recall but he did not know why. He turned his head, and Craig could see his face profiled now, the elegant lines reminding him why this man was familiar.

 

“Your Highness,” one of the guards said, his voice low, obviously the most senior of the men assembled here. He bowed low as he spoke, a necessary symbol of respect to the superior of the two men before he turned to Aenan.

 

            The two men exchanged a few words, but Craig did not hear whatever it was that they were saying. He studied the Prince thoughtfully, surprised by the beauty of the man. The dignity he exuded without thought made it obvious that he was a man of fine breeding, he had an ease that made the men around him seem clumsy and common. There was an indefinable quality about him that commanded one’s attention though it was not just his looks. It was the way he carried himself, the self assurance clearly evident as his gaze swept the room, eyes passing over each of the men in turn as though they were not people but merely part of the décor. The barest hint of a smile showed at the corners of his mouth when his eyes fell on Craig, who did not drop his gaze to the floor as was customary. He stared right back at the Prince, blue eyes steady and proud.

 

            Craig was startled to feel rough hands jostling him forward until he stood in front of Aenan and the Prince. Aenan’s eyes slid over him, a cold light sparking in them as he listened to the men explain what had happened. Craig realized that several of the men had been dismissed and he wondered how he had missed this. 

 

He could almost see the thought processes taking place in Aenan’s mind and a wave of revulsion washed over him as he realized how much Aenan would enjoy this. He could still hear the sharp crack of whips in the haze of the afternoon heat. He could almost feel the sharp sting of leather biting into his skin, a series of razor thin lines of fire racing across his skin as he stared at the man before him. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a male voice cutting through the air.

 

“I will deal with him.”

 

            Craig stared blankly as he realized that the words had come not from Aenan, who Craig could not imagine possessing a voice like that but from the Prince. It seemed he was not the only one shocked by this statement, as the room momentarily fell silent at this. Craig could see the amusement in the Prince’s eyes at their reaction. Aenan was the first to recover himself.

 

“I am sure that you have more pressing matters to deal with, your Highness. Do not waste your time on the likes of him,” his voice turned colder at the end of the sentence, casting a look of distaste in Craig’s direction, taking in the bedraggled state of the man before him, the blood that lay darkly on his fair skin. The contrast was made stronger at Craig’s nearness to the Prince, immaculately clothed with not a single strand of hair out of place.

 

“I will deal with him,” the Prince repeated, his tone pleasant, but Craig could hear the unvoiced challenge, knowing that Aenan dare not go against him. Craig marveled at the seemingly effortless way the Prince kept control over these men.

 

“Show him to my office,” the Prince said, turning to face the man who has bowed to him earlier, looking at him for a moment, before dismissing all the men with a casual wave of his hand. He turned back to Aenan, confident that his directions, however simple they may be, would be carried out without incident. Craig wasn’t sure why he was surprised by the self assurance this man radiated, but it was not what he had expected of this man, this Prince.  

 

*   *   * 

 

            The Prince’s office was decorated not in the ostentatious style that was dominant throughout the rest of the palace, but with an understated sense of class, more of an insinuation of wealth and power than an outright statement. The two guards flanking him dropped Craig unceremoniously into the chair opposite the desk,  one made of a rich wood polished to a brilliant sheen, and left him alone in the room. Craig was surprised at that but heard the men take their footsteps stop outside of the door, and knew that they were standing attentively on either side of the doorway.

 

            A wide window stretched across the wall behind the desk, offering not the Prince the broad view of the city, but whoever sat opposite him. Craig wondered at that for a moment, soon forgetting it as he gazed around the office. Bookshelves lined one wall, rows upon row of books, all bound in soft leather casings. The lightly musty smell of them tickled Craig’s nostrils. Some of the books were aged, jagged cracks splitting the rich dark shades of their skin, others with golden script that had faded from age and use. Many of the books had titles written in languages that Craig could not comprehend, others in symbols that he couldn’t recognize. He found himself wondering if the Prince had read all of these books, could speak all these languages.

 

            His gaze moved from the books back to the window and the bright light that spilled into the room from it. He could see a broad band of brilliant blue sky, dotted sporadically with puffy white clouds that drifted lazily across it. The air shimmered with waves of heat that danced across the parched earth outside the city, though inside the palace the air was cool.

 

            He could hear the soft sound of the door opening and closing behind him, but he did not turn around, knowing it could be only one man. The Prince crossed the room in silence, not even looking at Craig, giving him the feeling that he wasn’t even truly there, but had somehow faded into the tapestry the moment the other man had entered the room. The Prince seated himself behind the desk, his attention on the various scrolls scattered across its top. His gaze was fixed steadily on what was before him, and Craig had the feeling that he was not deliberately being ignored, but rather that he had simply ceased to be visible to this man.

 

            The silence reigned; Craig’s discomfort grew as it seemed to expand, pressing heavily in on him. He wondered if he should speak, what he should say to this man. He wasn’t even sure why he had not been left with Aenan, but he was grateful either way that he had not.

 

“Thank you,” he finally spat out, his voice seeming unnaturally loud in the silent chamber, making him wince.

 

            The Prince did not cease what he was doing, did not even look up from his work as he scrawled neatly formed letters across the parchment before him with a steady hand. Craig’s brow furrowed as he watched the man continue with his work, not even the slightest twitch of his composed face giving away that he had heard what Craig had said.

 

He finally laid his quill down beside the paper, looking across the desk at the other man, and Craig suddenly wished he had let the silence continue. Being invisible was preferable to this, the feeling that this man’s eyes were looking straight through him, the steadiness of his gaze  wholly unnerving.

 

“For what?” The Prince finally asked, making Craig jump lightly.

 

            He stared back at the other man for several moments, completely forgetting that he was expected to reply to this query.

 

“You are thankful for what?” The Prince prompted with a disdainful look before Craig could compose himself enough to reply.

 

            Craig longed for the uncomfortable silence of before. This man was so entirely at ease, so completely and unquestionably in control.

 

“For not leaving me with Aenan,” Craig finally replied, his voice coming out low and quavering slightly. The Prince stared at him, not speaking, but clearly demanding a further explanation.

 

“Do you have an issue with Aenan?” The Prince asked, the sound of his voice making Craig jump again. His lips thinned in the slightest and the tone of the other man’s voice slowly sunk into Craig’s mind. This was not how he had intended the statement to sound. He did have a problem with Aenan, but there was no way he could say that to the Prince. That type of honesty would most likely cost him dearly.

 

“I- that is, no….. Craig said weakly. “I just wanted to…thank you,” he finished lamely, feeling his jaw protest as he moved it, nervously catch his bottom lip between his teeth before forcing himself to at least appear composed.

 

“I did not do it for you,” the Prince replied, his tone verging on disinterest.

 

“Oh. Uh…I see,” Craig replied slowly. He berated himself for the unintelligent reply but the mere presence of this man seemed to scatter his wits so that all he could do was stammer a barely logical reply. It took another moment for the impact of the Prince’s statement to sink in.  

 

            The Prince studied him with a blank look, “You have not had much schooling, have you?” he asked, returning his attention to the scroll waiting patiently before him.

 

            Craig’s blue eyes widened at the insult, “I have had as much as I need,” he said darkly, his fear of this man disintegrating as quickly as it had appeared, making no attempt to mask the contempt he felt. Not everyone had the resources this man obviously did but he had been properly educated.

 

            The muscles in the Prince’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at this, “When you speak to me, you will address me as your Highness,” he instructed, his voice flat and controlled, though Craig could see the smallest flare of anger in his eyes.

 

            Craig fell silent once more, not wishing to continue this conversation. The Prince went back to his work, acting once more as if Craig wasn’t even there.

 

“Why did you do it?” Craig asked suddenly. The Prince looked up at him, a message clear in his eyes. “Y-your Highness,” Craig added stuttering. The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

 

“Why did I do what?” The question was asked carelessly, but Craig could see a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

 

“Why did you…choose to deal with me yourself….your Highness,” Craig asked carefully, barely remembered to add on the last statement.

 

            The Prince rested his elbows lightly on the hard surface of the desk, twining his fingers together and resting his chin on his hands as he studied Craig once more.

 

“You intrigue me.”

 

“Pardon me?” Craig was taken entirely by surprise by what the Prince had said. He intrigued him? There were many responses Craig had imagined and that one had not even entered his mind.

 

“You are a lot more trouble than I had anticipated.”

 

            Craig wasn’t sure how to respond to that, or even if a response was expected.

 

“I do not like that. I cannot keep complete control when things don’t run smoothly. I make it a point to always be in control. A man who is not in control of his emotions falls into situations like the one you presently find yourself in.” The tone of the Prince’s voice clearly implied that he himself would never deign to be caught in such a situation. “You should have known better than to start a fight with one of the guards.”  The tone was surprisingly mild, almost amused Craig noted.

 

“I did not simply start a fight-“ Craig started but was abruptly cut off.

 

“I don’t care what it was, it should never have occurred.”

 

“You don’t understand-“

 

“The way you are speaking to me is unacceptable,” The Prince interrupted, “One must always address their superiors with respect.”

 

            Craig merely stared at the Prince for a moment, a look of disbelief on his face.

 

“I treat those with respect who deserve it and so far I see nothing you have done for me that deserves respect, save for intervening with Aenan and I thanked you for that,” he said coldly, steeling himself for the Prince’s response.

 

            He was shocked to hear the man laugh. Craig looked up to see a rare smile gracing his face.

 

“Precisely why you intrigue me so. Any other man would know better than to speak to me in such a way. Such blatant insolence is what distinguishes you. I must admit I am curious to find out what makes you think makes you are above such customs.”

 

            The man had a way of confusing Craig, his every reaction unpredictable.

 

“I do not think myself above anyone,” Craig returned tightly. “It seems to me that you do.”

 

“It will not take much for my amusement to turn, so I suggest you watch the way you speak.”

 

            Craig sighed wearily, the sharp aches where he had been hit throbbing dully.

 

“You can start by explaining why you started a fight with the guard,” the Prince said infuriatingly as he had cut Craig off the last time he has tried to explain.

 

“He was making an unwanted pass at Anna-at a young woman.”

 

“How chivalrous of you to intercede on her behalf but as I said before, you let your emotions take control too easily.”

 

“I could hardly let that be.”

 

“And why could you not?” There was something in the Prince’s tone that Craig did not quite trust.

 

“I could let her be because it is my responsibility to keep her from harm,” Craig said, ignoring the sharp twinge as he clenched his jaw muscles.

 

“Is it now?”

 

“It is,” Craig replied staunchly.

 

“And why is this? Your responsibility is to defend your sweetheart from every imaginable harm there is out there?”

 

“She is not my sweetheart.”

 

“Then why is it that you bear such a responsibility for her?”

 

Craig finally looked up at the other man, “She is my sister. Would you not agree that her well being is my business?”

 

            If the Prince was at all surprised by this piece of information he did not let on that he was but merely said “I see.”

 

            Craig wasn’t sure exactly what he meant and waited.

 

“So, this is why you two were spotted together as I have heard. Not at all what I had thought.”

 

“You knew about that?”

 

            The Prince laughed once more. “It does not do to be ignorant of the happenings in one’s own palace. Do not mistake yourself and think there is one thing that occurs within these walls that I am not aware of.” He paused for a moment before adding, “You would go to any lengths to protect this girl from harm?”

 

“Yes, I would, your Highness,” Craig said earnestly, not seeing any point in hiding that.

 

“I see. This could cause problems.”

 

            It was not possible to detect what the Prince was thinking as silence descended once more over the room.

 

“I will make you a bargain,” the Prince said suddenly.

 

            Craig eyed him warily, waiting to hear what this man had in mind.

 

“I will set her free….in exchange for you.”

 

“You will set her free in exchange for me?” Craig repeated blankly. “You mean, in exchange for my life?” He felt a lump grow in his throat but already knew that there was only one possible answer.

 

“Not quite,” the Prince replied wryly, a sardonic smile lighting his feature. “What use are you to me dead? None at all.”

 

            The turn of the conversation confused Craig.  “What are you asking of me?” He asked, his mouth suddenly so dry the words were hard to get out, but knowing that whatever the Prince asked he would get it. No matter how painful the prospect, he had promised his father that he would always watch out for Annalise.

 

“I am proposing that I will set your sister free in exchange for you. Or more specifically your body. Her freedom in exchange for you becoming my consort.”

 

            The words rang in the air as Craig stared dazedly back at the man who watched him with a richly amused look evident in his steady gaze, please with the shocked look in Craig’s wide blue eyes.

 

“Your consort?” Craig asked numbly, his shock making his voice come out flat and dull.

 

“Yes.” The word was simple and brisk as he waited for his answer.

 

/////

 

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