IV

The setting was splendid as usual. Jean-Claude knew the art of dazzling and seducing any guest. Knew how to impress and strike fear. How to be the Lord of his manor.

Asher felt awkward, entering the familiar, candle-lit banquet hall by Tamlin's side. The beautiful vampire had been waiting for him, leaning casually against the stone wall outside his chambers.

"There you are, Lovely," the younger one had smirked and proceeded to press a dark red rose in his hand, so dark it was almost black. He had cut himself on one of the thorns, it had been sharp enough to cut through his white satin glove and stain the fabric with a little pearl of blood.

"Love hurts, doesn't it?" Tamlin softly whispered and took his other hand.

Asher felt strangely vulnerable. He had been furious for so long, he'd welcomed the great tiredness of his heart that sent him into days of solitude and grieving. Now...he had been tired for too long. Tired and pained for so long he felt empty.

Jean-Claude had no problems with him dating this youth, he'd said. Somehow that hurt too, even if he knew better. He'd decided to give his old lover something to regret. If not for anything else, to make himself feel better. At some point analysis ceased being useful. Where his heart was concerned it only caused confusion and pain...

Nobody seemed to worry about Tamlin's motives but Asher...and Asher was too tired, too exhausted from it all to think straight. The crook of it all was of course his own attraction to the other...if it hadn't been for that, it would have been all good. He would have been his own clever, level headed self...alas, the younger vampire had brought it all forth again: The anger and the longing. Bitterness...despair...

So he clutched the rose tighter in his grip and let the thorn dig deeper into his flesh. "Yes," he smiled at the other bitterly between clenched teeth. "It does..."

He had dressed in his usual deep blue velvet with golden lining, and a white, ruffled shirt. In an act of bitter anger he had pulled his hair back: let the brat see what he had bargained for! Let him have it all in his face!

Tamlin had dressed in a soft pink and grey attire. It matched beautifully with his hair, made his eyes seem brighter. A ring with a huge black onyx on his middle finger. Just a coincidence perhaps, but it mirrored the sapphire on his own.

Oh yes, two centuries ago they would have made a lovely couple, almost as stunning as him and Jean-Claude... Now, however...they were a farce.

They passed through black drapes of thick silk and entered the room done in white, black and silver, shining, glittering. Crystal goblets and chandeliers. The wine was poured from old bottles. White linen tablecloths, embroidered and spotless. The black floor had stars in it; glittering stones that looked like jewels. Large, framed mirrors were set on the silk clad walls, reflecting the room and each other.

Oh yes, the Master was indeed a master, master of the ball, and the games. Asher lifted the long-stemmed rose to his nostrils and enjoyed the scent of it. It was a richer, stronger smell than the one filling the air of the banquet hall. Jean-Claude's roses were crimson tonight.

He lifted his gaze to take in the guests: Big werewolves padded around the elegant tables and chairs and growled deeply when they met members of the rival pack. Dereka also had wolves at her command. The cat people however sat gracefully still, unchanged in their human forms. No master had called on their beasts tonight, yet if you knew, it wasn't hard to see to which species they belonged. Moving fluidly, gracefully. Their eyes twinkling slits in the half-dark of the room.

Nathaniel was there with Damian. Asher hadn't thought about that. He saw the youth's eyes light up when he saw him, and then the same light disappear again when he saw who was holding his hand. Nathaniel still feared Tamlin, Asher realized, and it angered him.

Dereka herself sat as the guest of honor at a table of her own, surrounded by her closest minions. Dressed in a gown of pure, thick fur, the color of it similar to her waist-length chestnut colored hair. It was a thick and shiny mane; she was well fed, Dereka. She always moved and acted like a queen. Her face was a little too broad to be considered pretty, but she was beautiful in her own way with a milky, pale complexion and shiny brown eyes. Her lips were ruby red and the half-globes of her breasts spilled out of her dress, heavy and full. She was Dereka the Wild, no doubt. Even if she was now a city master like Jean-Claude she had once called the Siberian Tundra her home and the wilderness would always live in her soul, which gave her appearance an unusual mixture of refinement and something primal and exactly that: wild.

Next to her sat her human servant, a thin and clever looking man with small, round glasses. Looking like a human lawyer of sorts he fit his position perfectly. Taking care of his mistress' business during daytime. On her other side sat her second in command, a tall, broad vampire called Cerk with a mane of dark brown curls that spilled from his shoulders and over the table cloth to pile up there in heavy coils. Next, her pomme de sang, a young, sassy boy dressed only in leather. He was new, Asher realized. She must have drunk her last one dry or turned him...

"Asher! Tamlin!" Jean-Claude beamed with that special look he had only when there was pride and power at stake. Black velvet and diamonds tonight. White shirt overhung with laces. Silver linings. Beautiful always, he sparkled and shone brightly in the middle of his own kingdom.

"Have a seat," he motioned at them to a table almost entirely covered in fresh cut roses.
Anita was already there, dressed in a deep red matching the flowers. She shot Tamlin a suspicious glare but said nothing. The ulfric was missing, as always...

Asher could tell by the set of Anita's jaw, the blackness of her gaze that she knew what was going on, what bargain Jean-Claude had made with this stripper prince and that she was not happy with it.

Not *his* problem though; he was just the meat being bargained for...Funny that, it was a position he most definitely never thought he'd find himself in again...

Tamlin squeezed his hand lightly to get his attention and Asher reculantly turned his head. It was such a curse, this...wanting him and knowing that he couldn't show this want. Having him there was like a dream come true in another universe - the one he'd lost.

If it only had been true...that this beautiful vampire boy had been his own, that the bond of their laced hands had been a true display of affection...but it was not...just a game. An act...And he would play it right, as he always did.

Sometimes he thought that he'd been better off wrapped in his rage and thirst for revenge, far away from the splendor of Jean-Claude's court...

"Why do you look so sad?" Tamlin asked him and lead them to their chairs on Jean-Claude's left hand. "Don't you think me fitting company for a master such as yourself?" He sounded a little annoyed, Asher noticed and smiled.

"I am not ashamed to be seen with you..." he replied and let the 'but' hang in the air.

"Then what is wrong?" Tamlin sat down and poured their wine. "Is my hair not...black enough for you?"

Asher rose his eye-brow slightly. "Your hair is just fine, Tamlin," he said calmly. "But you have bargained for me to get me here, in this position...you can't blame me for wondering why..." he added. Wanted to let the brat knew there were other motives behind his stunt.

"Well, you owe it to me," Tamlin said. A little bitterly, Asher thought. he looked amused at the suddenly pouting young master.

"Why, If I may ask?" he continued in a polite, composed manner.

"For throwing me into that wall...twice," Tamlin shot him a black stare. "I never heard you apologizing for that..."

"Should I...?" Asher asked amused.

"Yes..." Tamlin gave him a wicked stare.

"As I recall it you were practically jumping me in the corridor," Asher mused while playing a little with his linen napkin. "I think I was entitled to defend myself..."

As Jean-Claude rose to say his words of welcome Tamlin quickly reminded him,
"You kissed me first, remember. How else was I to answer that call?" Then he turned his attention to Jean-Claude. So did Asher, or pretended to. Inwardly he was a steaming pit of shame. Of course he would remember that...that it was his own weakness that had brought this on...Nobody to blame but himself...And his own inability to see through the younger one's games.

"I am calling you no more," he said as soon as the speech had ended.

"Oh yes you do," Tamlin smiled calmly and lifted his glass in a toast. "And tonight we'll get to know each other better," he winked.

Asher toasted back but felt strangely dry inside. How was it that this slick creature knew? Could he sense his lust? His desire?

He put the glass back down on the table and measured him: the sharp profile, the little pearl dangling from his ear lobe. He wished to touch it, but knew that would be a mistake.

Chatter and music soon filled the air as the vampire party was drinking and feeding. The humans’ necks were exposed in the dim light and the shape shifters willingly offered their wrists or any other body part requested.

"We are supposed to be lovers..." Tamlin leaned over and reminded him. "It's time you start acting like one...as it is now you make it look like we've fought," a quick sweep his tongue on Asher's cheek, the scarred one, and Asher flinched.

"What *is* it that you want?" he demanded softly, with despair.

The grey gaze focused on him and the other vampire sighed. "I don't know any longer, Asher...I thought I knew, now I don't...let's just be friends and...enjoy this evening, shall we?"

Fine, he could live with that. If he was to take the other's words seriously he was for some reason suddenly useless to his purposes and could relax....put down his guard. Of course, he would never dream of doing that....

"As friends..." he confirmed.

"As lovers," Tamlin corrected him and lay his hand over Asher's on the table. Strong, long fingers caressed his gloved ones. It felt intimate, arousing and cruel. Still he could help but smile at the boy's persistence. It was *his* reputation that was going down the drain, he realized...*He* was the one who would be accused of bad taste. His first mistake as a master, Asher mused. Well, if he insisted he would have it. Asher would resist no more.

"Very well then...lover," he gave a wry smile. "You can have it as you wish." With insides that were anything but calm he lifted Tamlin's slender hand to his lips and kissed it, gently. He watched the other the whole time; watched the silver grey of his eyes, measured them, looking for signs...There were none. he didn't flinch, he didn't withdraw his gaze, just watched, with parted lips as Asher kissed his knuckles.

He was beautiful in candle light; his features so pure, expression serene...

"Thank you," he beamed when Asher's lips had left his skin."I knew you could do it," he teased him and squeezed his hand a little harder. Just like lovers, Asher thought. They were in fact acting like that.

As the night proceeded he got used to Tamlin's touch. There was no other way; it was always there. Touching him casually, embracing his waist as they mingled. He filled his goblet with ruby wine and whispered to his ear; remarks about the guests, regarding their dress and features. Actually Asher thought, the boy was rather amusing. He had a sharp mind and nothing could escape his attention...Funny how he'd never noticed how much like a bear Cerk looked, and how much he made her, *Dereka*, look like one too when they put their brown heads together. Of course that made her servant a clever fox and the little boy toy of hers a rabbit.

Asher caught himself chuckling deeply to Tamlin's suggestions, his wit and sharp tongue. He was refreshingly unjaded too; didn't explore the room with old, tired eyes. Wasn't evil for evil's sake. He lived in the moment, took it all in...

Asher gave in to the urge without thinking, the next time the slender arm embraced his waist he leaned into the body behind him; molded himself against the firm muscles and enjoyed the cool feel of the blue hair before he'd even noticed what he'd done...

It was the candles, he told himself, the crowd and the heat. It was letting go of the tiredness that had haunted him so long. Just for a while, a little moment...for tonight. It was business after all, being Tamlin's love...

"I bet he tastes like honey," Tamlin's voice sounded close to his ear. "The mommy bear's little honey pot that one...blood like sweet fuel for her Wildness," he smiled and Asher smiled with him. Allowed himself a moments comfort. Wrapped in Tamlin’s arms, his own hand rose to stroke the velvet of his pink and grey waistcoat, stopped and rested there, on Tamlin's upper arm.

"No," Tamlin suddenly said. "He tasted more like green herbs, it is hard to explain but he feels more like wild herbs than honey...what on earth does she want with him...? Nathaniel is honey...and cream," he mused. "His warrior is iron and roses...And you are..." he drew his breath.

"Asher!" Jean-Claude's seductive voice sounded and interrupted him.The midnight gaze of his wasn't entirely calm, Asher noticed. A part of him wasn't completely unhappy about that.

"You are enjoying yourselves, I can see..." The master raised his eyebrow. "Pleasant company?" he asked Tamlin over Asher's shoulder.

"Indeed..."

"So I can see," Jean-Claude had put on one of his most cat-like expressions and Asher suddenly found the scenario quite amusing. Surely Jean-Claude knew that it was just a display for the audience. He should be happy that Asher didn't find it entirely uncomfortable... How could he...when the boy was so pretty?!

"Don't forget when the bargain ends," he said low enough that no one but them would hear and Asher had to smile a bit.

"If he doesn't, I will, Jean-Claude..." he said. Besides, he added to himself, he would hardly be of much use for Tamlin when the doors to the banquet hall had closed. Whatever his purpose with this was, he became more and more convinced as the night wore on, that Tamlin, through this little one night affair, had found a way to reach his goal without having to bed him. Of which they both should be grateful, he assumed...

Relieved by this he allowed himself more freedom and coiled his own arm around Tamlin's waist. Laced his fingers with the blue-haired stripper's and kissed his hand frequently. Touched him as much as he could, he bitterly admitted, *while* he could...

He ended up treasuring every touch of blue hair on his skin, the feel of his hip against his, every touch of his lips...those rosy red lips, on his cheek, on his fingers...even on his neck once. He treasured them and preserved them. He didn't have much time with him; this creature of fire by his side. So he would, no matter the outcome, enjoy it while it lasted. A little dream, for one night, it could be real.

Tamlin left him for a moment to fill their goblets with more wine. Asher felt strangely alone standing on the floor in the huge room surrounded by chatting, growling creatures. Nathaniel approached him then, with fresh wounds on his neck.

"Asher," the little wereleopard breathed. "I know it's none of my business but..." His violet gaze flickered and Asher knew Tamlin was back, approaching him from behind.

"Nathaniel," his purring voice confirmed the assumption.

"Tamlin," Nathaniel's voice sounded stiff and unnatural. The leopard was dressed in a cream and gold catsuit showing off his delicate curves. Asher somehow found the kitten's display uncomfortable. It was not Nathaniel's fault...it was Tamlin's...he had wanted this one. Asher felt sure about that. No matter schemes, he'd wanted him...

The leopard stood a little insecure before them; his hair hanging loose, almost sweeping the floor. He didn't raise his gaze again before another dark voice spoke.

"Nathaniel," it was Damian. Dressed in cream and gold too, but old fashioned in a waistcoat, no cat suit for the lynx...His emerald eyes glared at Tamlin; suspicious and hostile. His hand came to rest on the small cat's shoulder.

Tamlin laughed. "Don't worry, warrior," he said with amusement. "I no longer want your cat...I only want Goldilocks," he came up by Asher's side and gave his golden hair a gentle little tug. "I won't touch him again," he smilingly assured Damian. "Unless my master bids me," the gaze that followed in Asher's direction was smoldering hot and dizzying. How could his eyes change like that; from a light grey to deep, dark fire?

"That won't happen," Asher replied. "On the contrary," he winked at Nathaniel and Damian and turned his back to them, couldn't face them right then. He was to caught up in his mind...by grey heat and his own sudden passion. Without noticing he'd taken his pretend-to-be lover's hand again and held it in a firm grip...He wanted him. He wanted him so bad he felt like pushing him up against the nearest wall and have his way with him. He wanted to roam his body with his bare hands, kiss his lips till he bled...

He did not.

He waited for the moment to pass. Just held on to him like an anchor while the surging heat coursed through his body.

Tamlin gave him a curious glance. "What is that in your eyes?" he asked. "I think maybe you like me a little after all..." he purred and moved in closer, brushed his velvet clad hip against Asher's, let go of his hand to embrace his waist, his fingers resting on the juncture of Asher's left hip, circling the blue fabric slowly.

"Tell me you don't desire me in the least, Asher...and I'll let you be..." he whispered seductively.

The music, the candles, and the wine made Asher's head spin slightly. The intoxicating scent of the other; orchids and dark spices...The nearness of the pale, silken skin. No, he could not bring those words of rejection over his lips. Not with the pleasurable, warm feeling of desire spreading through him, making his crotch stiffen, his lips pound and yearn for kisses. Gone then, in that moment the thoughts of his ruined face. Gone then the sorrow and grief over what he'd become. The anger and bitterness erased in that brief moment as his eyes sought Tamlin's in earnest; and was rewarded with a equally hot stare in reply.

"Asher," Tamlin breathed and smiled. His fangs gleaming in the candle lights.

Of course, this moment of forgetting...ignoring the scars and the damage on his body had a price. It had been foolish of him to believe in the lie, even for just a moment; let himself be embraced and touched as if it was his place. As if his marred features weren't there.
The punishment came in form of Dereka this time.

With her brown fan in her hand she came gliding up to them with a couple of werewolves in her trail. Her gown smelled strongly of fur, and was probably new. Fresh kills, so to speak...still with a tinge of blood and wilderness to them.

"Asher!" she beamed and exposed her sharp, long fangs. "And the new master," she bowed in a half-mocking gesture to Tamlin. "So nice to see that the two of you are getting along," she smiled sweetly.

"Dereka," Asher gave a courteous bow and saw Tamlin do the same from the corner of his eye.

"So peculiar this," she motioned with her closed fan. "How Jean-Claude seems to have this talent for bringing power to his table...It doesn't get crowded?" she asked Asher. "When you all eat from the same hand?"

Asher smiled inwardly, was she implying that it was Jean-Claude's infamous libido that kept them there?

"As masters we can keep our own food," he smiled back at her. "We don't crowd his table at all."

"Keep your own food," she chuckled and her gaze went to Tamlin. "Yes, so I can see..." her smile grew wilder. "So what exactly is it that keeps a young stud of a master like yourself on somebody else's leash?!" she snapped.

"I am on no one's leash," Tamlin replied calmly. " The only thing that's chained is my heart..."

"Youth's folly!" She gave an arrogant smirk. "It won't last...soon enough you'll wish your own house," she said almost as to assure herself.

"For the moment however I am comfortable where I am," Tamlin replied smilingly. "And I have no objections against offering Jean-Claude my assistance."

Asher felt somewhat proud of him, he was keeping his side of the bargain wonderfully.

"Hmmm...." She smiled again. "Such a uneven couple though....Ah, well...love is blind!" She gave a melodramatic sigh and her gaze fastened on Tamlin again. "See you later, lovely," she winked at him with heavy brown lashes and spun around, gave them a little dismissive gesture with her fan over her shoulder before continuing her toxic tour with the wolves around in the hall.

"I'll even you...one day," Tamlin said softly when she was gone from their sight.
Asher just stared at him, perplexed. Did he seriously think that it had been aimed at him and his still budding power? Or was it just another game?

"I don't think Dereka doubts that," he said flatly.

"And you, do you doubt it?" Tamlin continued as if it was truly his pride that was at stake.

"Not at all," Asher assured him with a slight smile.

"Really?" Tamlin's eyes twinkled at him.

"Really!" Asher confirmed with a shrug. Felt how the joy seeped away...The illusion was shattered. He ought to be grateful she had reminded him of it, grateful...so he wouldn't fall into another pit of despair when the blow fell and Tamlin's plans were finally revealed. Such silliness that; weaving himself a cloak of illusions. Wrapping himself in ideas and dreams...

"Well, till then," Tamlin continued their conversation, his gaze still twinkling merrily towards him. "I'll be happy to bend for my superiors...be at the bottom, so to speak..."

Taken aback again by his straight forwardness, Asher raised his eyebrow and cocked his head. Gave him a glance that must have revealed his surprise for Tamlin suddenly laughed out loud in a manner quite inappropriate for a master vampire. It was a clear, ringling sound and Asher dropped his gaze to his shoes and bit into his lip as not to laugh with him. How was it that this...brat...could make him feel so comfortable...Had a own way of swaying him into sheer joy of life. Happiness in the moment...

"I wonder where you come from..." he marveled at him."Where on earth do they raise vampires like you?"

Tamlin's gaze suddenly darkened.

"I am a ’despite of’... not a ’because of’..." he explained cryptically.

"A child of the dungeon courts, then," Asher concluded and Tamlin shrugged."Do you still owe them?" He asked.

"No..." Tamlin took a hold of his elbow, coiled his fingers around it in a firm grip and Asher let him. "I have sought Jean-Claude in earnest," he said and sent his dark blue hair flying over his shoulder with his free hand. "I am curious about the modern ways..."

"And what do you think of them?" Asher asked him.

"I like the idea of politics above violence," Tamlin replied. "It appeals to me...I was always too clever for my own good," he winked. "Of course I never thought Jean-Claude would already have such a charming master at his table," he openly flirted and gave Asher another hot stare.

Again that persistent thought that...maybe if...maybe. But no...It could not be.

Asher sighed. "You don't have to do that..."

"No."

"Then why?"

Tamlin just looked at him. "I really don't get you," he slowly shook his head. "But I'd still bend to your will," he grinned.

Eventually the night ended and the two of them passed through the doors from the hall. Asher had allowed himself some room; allowed himself to still enjoy, relax and find comfort in the other's touch but not lose his head in it again.

After Dereka's remarks the lust he'd experienced earlier seemed but a memory, a silly idea. Like he'd made a fool of himself just by feeling it and allowing himself to do so... Nevertheless it had been one of the most pleasurable evenings he'd experienced in decades.

The door to the banquet hall closed behind them and cut off the lights and the chatter. Jason, in werewolf form, looked at them with golden eyes when they passed him in the hallway. He was the doorman tonight, Asher figured.

The doors were closed and their deal was over but Tamlin still held his arm, his fingers were still resting on the velvet of Asher's waistcoat. Their bodies were still moving close together, hips pressed tightly together. Blue hair spilled slick from Tamlin's shoulder and over to Asher's. He already regretted the moment when he wouldn't feel the other's body close to his own.

How long had it been since he'd had the sole attention of someone as desirable as Tamlin? Just the comfort of the touch...the closeness?

They slowly made their way through the deserted corridors. Tamlin had insisted on 'walking him home', and Asher didn't have the stamina to resist. Not tonight... it might be a trap, a mistake...but quite frankly in that moment he didn't care. Just for once, he told himself, would he let his guards down a little bit. Hungry for the moment, for the dream...

When they reached the door to Asher's chamber,Tamlin suddenly turned to him and asked, "A kiss?"

"Non...!"

"Sweetness," Tamlin batted his lashes. "There is no harm in a kiss...It's common decency, after a night like ours." He smiled but refused to meet Asher's gaze.
Asher drew a deep breath. Something burst in him and a sob formed in his chest. He quickly killed it before it reached his throat.

It suddenly rose and it tasted like pride. Was this him...Asher...who used to be a master of the flesh, of this game? Was he really reduced to this?! At a young master's mercy. Yearning and being denied?

"All right," he rubbed his forehead slightly, felt suddenly both excited and drained. "Close your eyes then," he said.

"What?" Tamlin blinked at him.

"Just...close your eyes, Tamlin," his voice was so low it was almost a whisper. "I'll kiss you..." he said.

If he knew that the other couldn't see him, then maybe...he could pull it off. Let his old self flare to life for a moment and remind this young and beautiful one, who was truly the master of love.

The thought made him braver. The thought made him bold. If he was to be fooled...let the brat know *who* he was fooling.

Obediently Tamlin's grey eyes fell shut, his pink lips parted a little and he stood still in front of Asher with his hands by his sides. Looked completely given-over in that moment. Vulnerable. His.

Asher kissed him.

His arms embraced Tamlin's waist and back and he pulled the slender body closer, sought his lips, nibbled and tasted them tentatively before probing gently inside the hot cave with his tongue.

Was that Tamlin moaning? Maybe it was...

And no, Asher had not forgotten how to do this...Seduce with his lips only. He massaged the other's tongue with his own, drew a little blood from them both with his fangs. Just spice, nothing more, to mingle with the saliva. He plundered the wet cave and pressed their bodies together, felt the other's slender arms around him, fingers in his hair.

Tamlin moaned again, muffled by the kiss. Asher grabbed fistfuls of blue-black hair while gently rubbing and circling Tamlin's back and the upper part of his buttocks with his knuckles. He knew he was good, and with the visual aspect gone he could do it. If Tamlin was to betray him, play him, he would always remember this. Asher's kisses left no man untouched.

When the other vampire's breath quickened and his hard cock pressed against Asher's crotch, he stopped. Not to be mean, but because his point was made and he wasn't sure how much further he could take it without being swallowed and lost himself.

He was afraid of that, he realized. Knew his restraints were so thin and worn with Tamlin. But he would... he swore...he would make it through this night and walk from it unharmed and in charge... without having made a fool of himself.

"No..." Tamlin breathed when Asher withdrew from the kiss. His eyes were wide open and it startled Asher a bit. How long had he been looking? He decided it didn't matter. He seemed to have made his point.

"Please," Tamlin grabbed his hand and placed it on his hip. "Are you sure you don't want more?" His gaze was smoldering heat, his lips moist and swollen.

"No..." Asher smiled, but it was a sad smile. His voice was gentle and it was with regret he pulled his hand from Tamlin's grip.

Tamlin suddenly straightened up. He swallowed visibly and bowed slightly in a servile manner that somehow cut in Asher's heart.

"Very well then," The younger vampire spoke. "I have courted you all night," he added in a low, tired voice. "I can see that your rejection is sincere...I won't approach you like this again," he added. With a swift motion he caught Asher's hand and pressed it to his lips. "Thank you, for a wonderful night," he batted his lashes to conceal his eyes from Asher's view.

Of course it stung and of course it had a bitter taste to it. Of course he saw the other walk away with sorrow.

It would have been perfect...the night, the boy, the kiss...If it had been for real.


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