Defiance Ch. 09

He expected fury but Christian lifted his hand and extended his finger. "That is one, pretty one. Shall we see if we can make it two?"

His comment very nearly brought on another gibe but Tate managed to swallow his outrage in time to save his own neck, for the moment at least. A painfully long time passed before Christian spoke again.

"I was going to ruin you." He said softly. "Not that your reputation isn't already in tangles. You've become a scandal, you're family are in hiding." He paused a moment, to let the last part sink in. "I was going to use you, break a few things then give you to Richard. He has quite a thing for you." Tate didn't comment. He had no idea who Richard was. "When Richard grew bored with you I intended to share you among my men and then throw you onto the streets. You'd be so disfigured and ruined that no one would want you then. You'd die, alone and in utter disgrace. I thought it was a fitting punishment."

Tate couldn't help himself. Outrage sapped away his fear and left him seething. "Punishment, punishment for what? What did I do to you that was worthy of all the terrible things that you've done, the things that you're doing? I did not want you Christian; it is as simple then as it is now. No man or woman is compelled to want you despite whatever you may think. You tried to force me and I fought, then you tried to have me taken away from everything I knew so you had something to play with so I ran, I ran because I do not want you Christian! For the love of the lady, why can't you just leave me be?"

Christian was fast and Tate was exhausted. All he managed was to throw his hands up over his face as Christian caught hold of him. He was lifted bodily and dragged towards the huge bed. The air was momentarily knocked out of him as he landed forcefully on the thick mattress. "No!" He yelled as Christian began pawing at him. Tate bellowed as his body twisted and strained to be free of Christian's tight hold. One large hand caught both of his and lifted them high above him head. He remembered that night so long ago when Christian had done the same thing to him. Tate fought hard but he wasn't strong enough to dislodge Christian.

A heavy weight settled on his legs and he was completely pinned down. Panic, fear and shame whirled within him. "Stop it!" He yelled hoarsely as Christian ripped the gypsy garbs from his flesh. He heard Christian mumbling as he fingered the material like it was little better than filth. He threw it away until Tate lay naked and trembling beneath him. "Stop!" He screamed, the sound piercingly loud enough to momentarily gain Christian's attention. His crazed crystallised eyes settled haltingly on Tate. "You wear their clothes well, half-blood. What did you do I wonder to earn them?"

Tate spat at him and a moment later a great crack exploded against the side of his face. He blinked stupidly but he couldn't make his body do what he wanted. He dimly realised that Christian had finally released his hands. Tate let out a whimpered cry when he felt Christian roll him onto his stomach. He had known it was coming. One way or another he had expected that Christian's revenge would involve what was happening to him now. Nor did he expect Christian to be gentle. A moments prodding, a little spit and then his entire weight settled on Tate's back.

The half-blood closed his eyes tightly and reminded himself of one very important thing. Lukas was alive; he had escaped Tanis and was wondering free in the city. Perhaps he meant to buy some of his family at auction. He had looked so different in the northern garb. Tate had barely recognised him.

He let out a muffled cry when Christian forced himself into Tate. The prince was not gentle and didn't intend to give him time to adjust. His violent thrusts hurt more keenly than anything Tate had ever felt. He pushed his face into a soft pillow and tried to contain his cries. He could not contain the tears.

It doesn't mean anything, Tate told himself repeatedly, it not my fault, he was being forced. It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my...

He felt Christian stiffen and then his pounding became more urgent. Tate tensed, willing the entire ordeal to be over as quickly as possible. A few more strokes and Christian came within him. A moment later he let out an almost drunken laugh as he pulled out and got unsteadily to his feet. "A pity you were soiled when you whored yourself out to the gypsies Tate," He said conversationally, as though they were friends. "It doesn't really matter though, a few more tumbles and you'll be free of their rotten taint. Luckily their interference did little to your performance. It's a disappointment though, I would have enjoyed hearing your delightful scream the first time I tore into you." Tate sensed Christian's shadow pass over him and felt wine soaked breath on his cheek. "So much could have been avoided if you had just stayed in your place. Never fear though beautiful one, I intend to make sure you're never given the opportunity to step out of line again."

Tate didn't move. Eventually Christian grew bored of mocking him and fell into a loud drunken sleep. Tate still didn't move. He feared he might wake him if he moved. Lying there as the pillow became wet with his tears Tate began to consider his options and realised with a pang that they were looking dismally meagre.

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Christian rolled over, expecting to find Tate's warm body pressed against him. He sat bolt upright when he realized the half-blood was gone. He rolled out of bed, preparing to yell bloody murder when he noticed Tate's still figure in the furthest corner of the room. Christian was irritated to see that he had changed back into what remained of the garish gypsy clothes. He would have to send someone out to fetch the half-blood something more appropriate to wear later in the morning.

Tate looked achingly small curled up in a ball with his face buried in his knees. Christian felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. The satisfaction he felt was without equal. He had known he would win in the end, he always won. He marched up to the half-blood, purposefully stepping heavily so Tate knew he was coming, reached down under the smaller mans arm and hoisted him to his feet. Tate refused to look at him so Christian dragged him back towards the bed and threw him down on top of it. He straddled the older man's hips and lent over him until there was barely a finger's length between their faces. "Open your eyes." Christian ordered quietly. If anything Tate only closed them more tightly. Christian wondered what he could do to force Tate to obey without having to hurt him physically. The other man was already bruised and swollen and anything that took away from his beauty was a hindrance. He had a brilliant idea then. He sat forward and pressed his lips against Tate's ear. "Open your eyes and look at me Tate, else I'll lend you out to Richard. You remember I told you about him? " Tate jerked beneath him and Christian allowed himself a satisfied smile. He lent back until he was sat up straight and stared back down at Tate's trembling body. "Open your eyes!" he snapped.

Tate flinched and looked up at him. His amber colored eyes were wide and frozen with fear. Christian's satisfaction grew tenfold as he watched the tears form in the other mans pretty eyes. Odd how they didn't actually fall. He reached out and cupped Tate's cheek in his right hand. "Do not leave my side again unless I give you leave." He said very quietly. When the half-blood didn't respond he moved his hand, forcing Tate to nod his head. "Say yes, Tate."

"Yes," he whispered, his eyes closing briefly as he let out a quiet shudder.

Christian climbed off of him and smoothed down his hair. He let out a loud snort, causing the half-blood to tense visibly. "By the god's Tate, stop sniveling." He saw a quick glimmer of anger pass over the smaller man's face before he smothered it and looked away. Christian considered taking him to task for it but then he decided he had a life time to teach the bastard how to behave, there was no need to do everything at once. He got changed, occasionally watching the half-blood to see what he was doing. The other man met his gaze once but he had an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm going out; when I come back we'll have something more appropriate for you to wear. Those colors are making me sick. Then we can introduce you to court. I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you? " When Tate just gaped at him Christian smiled. "There now, I knew you'd be happy."

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Christian really was a cruel bastard. He paraded the half blood around the court, ignoring him for the most part, though occasionally he would reach out in the middle of a conversation with a guest and find some reason to touch him. Tate moved languidly after Christian, looking up occasionally to stare at the exits and windows. His right eye was slightly swollen and bruised but he looked otherwise unhurt. A few of the other guests approached him, speaking to him with great mocking smiles on their faces. Tanis was surprised when Tate lifted his head and answered them. He seemed confident, brave even. It was all a show of course; every time Christian touched him the other man shuddered or flinched.

Abruptly the lord chandler approached Christian. He spoke quietly to the prince, who nodded his head and turned to the half-blood. He grabbed the smaller mans arm and lent his head down to Tate's ear. A few words were spoken between them and then Christian turned on his heels and followed after the lord chandler. Tate stayed where he was, his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

Tanis could see that some of the other courtiers were preparing to approach the half-blood. Despite himself he was reluctant to leave him alone with them. He stepped past them and stood directly in-front of Tate. The elder man looked up at him briefly. A look of distaste turned down the corner of his generous mouth. "Your highness." He said softly, acknowledging Tanis's title with a slight and obviously reluctant bow.

Standing so close to him, Tanis was once again struck by how small Tate actually was. He suddenly remembered seeing the bandage wrapped around his brothers hand all those months ago and wondered how anyone so slight could be so incredibly brave and so terribly foolish.

"Are you well?" He asked stupidly. The half-blood looked back up at him, his bronze eyes narrowed suspiciously. Tanis fidgeted slightly beneath his harrowing gaze, suddenly very much aware that Tate probably hated every fiber of his being. He lifted a glass from a passing servant and took a deep drink. He was surprised when he noticed Tate was smiling at him. It wasn't the mocking or forced smile he had seen earlier. It was one of genuine amusement. Tanis was surprised by how much a smile could transform a person's face. Tate truly was devastatingly beautiful. "What?" he asked before thinking.

Tate bit his lip, as though he was unsure if he should answer. Eventually he forced a more sober expression and looked away. "The wine you just drank from was taken from a tray of used drinks."

Tanis felt his cheeks flush. He put down the used glass, hoping no one else had noticed his mistake and coughed quietly. "You could have warned me." He said, smiling despite himself.

The half-blood looked surprised. He shrugged slightly but didn't answer. Tanis's couldn't blame him for being suspicious of him. After dragging him to his doom he was hardly going to suddenly forgive him. And he was Christian's brother after all and brothers were quite often alike. "I am sorry." He said honestly. He shrugged, mirroring Tate's earlier movements. "I realize you probably don't believe me but I want you to know that."

Christian stepped up behind Tate, laying one hand possessively over his shoulder. Tate flinched slightly, clearly struggling with the need to push Christian's hand off him. "Little brother, I see you've reintroduced yourself to my new squire." Christian voice boomed with false levity but his ice blue eyes were as hard as steel as he glared at Tanis. "Taken your fancy has he?" he asked in a much quieter tone. Tanis didn't answer, but then Christian had not expected him to. "It's just like you Tanis, to want something I have."

Tanis bowed slightly. "You have such exquisite taste, my lord, how could I not admire what is yours? Truthfully though, your new squire seemed uneasy. It is his first time at court after all, so I sought to show him a familiar face." He bowed again, lower than before. "I hope you'll forgive my forwardness?"

"How familiar are the two of you exactly?" Christina growled, his eyes intense as he looked at Tanis. His hand clenched around Tate's shoulder and the smaller man visibly winced. Tanis opened his mouth to defend himself but Christian waved his hand dismissively, clearly already rejecting him from his presence. Tanis left quickly but now without one last look at Tate's beautiful face.

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Tate stood behind Christian seat, trying very hard not to notice all the people that were staring at him. He had met some of them before, when they had visited his father's holding. A number of them had propositioned him in the past and he remembered having rebuked some of them quite vehemently when they grew too forward. They were all older now, and had come into their positions. And here I stand, he thought with a sickening feeling of dread, and I've never been so vulnerable in my life.

Christian lifted his glass as he spoke animatedly to the young woman sitting at his left. Tate stepped forward and filled it with wine, wanting very badly to smash the glass tumbler over the prince's bloated royal head. Their eyes met briefly and Tate had a sudden flash back to the previous night. He pushed the image away angrily and stepped back, as far from the prince as protocol would allow.

He looked up on a whim and felt a moment of complete panic. The king was staring at him, directly at him, and he was frowning. Tate was incapable of looking away. He remembered watching a snake corner a rabbit when he was a child, and how the rabbit had sat frozen with fear, awaiting its own death.

Fingers snapped directly in front of his face. He flinched and nearly dropped the tumbler he was holding. A few people laughed at him but Christian looked anything but amused. Tate met the princes smoldering gaze as evenly as possible, unsure what he wanted. "Fill the ladies drink." He growled at last, his expression darkening by the moment.

Tate muttered an apology and poured the lady a large glass of wine. She glared up at him and pressed her hand demurely over Christian's. Tate stared back at her. Was it possible that the stupid, foolish girl was actually jealous of him? He wanted to tell her that she was welcome to her precious prince. Tate wanted no part of him.

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Tate tried not to sneer when Christian introduced him to Richard. It wasn't just the things Christian had told him about the vile captain. It was the way his disturbingly pale green eyes lingered on his face, the way he smirked when he thought Christian wasn't watching. "Your majesty has been rather more forgiving than I would have thought possible." Richard said softly, his eyes pinned predatorily on Tate's face.

"No point in damaging him." Christian said airily as he placed his hand firmly on Tate's shoulder. "He'll behave now, no more running, no more fighting." His handsome face twisted into a cruel smile. "He understands now."

"Is that so?" Richard's drawled, his tone condescending and smug as he stared down at Tate. "And if you don't mind my asking my lord how exactly do you suppose to keep him? Last time he bolted it took more than a season to track him down."

Christian's brows knotted slightly as he regarded his captain. Tate backed away slightly, suddenly unsure if the prince intended to pounce on the older man. He got quite a shock when a rough hand clouted him across the ear. "Do not move unless I tell you to!" Christian hissed before turning back to Richard. "What do you suggest then? I can hardly just lock him up when I haven't need of him."

Tate wondered if Christian could see the faint smile on the older man's face. "I would suggest my prince that you put someone in charge of the boy. Perhaps someone you can trust. Someone who has your highness's best interests at heart."

"Someone like you then?" Tate asked, not bothering to disguise the distaste in his voice. Both men turned back to him. Christian looked calculating and Richard looked amused. Tate expected another clout or perhaps something worse but Christian didn't raise his hand. Instead he turned back to Richard and arched one eyebrow.

"Very well Richard." He said slolwy. "You can watch him, providing you do nothing more than that."

"My lord has nothing to fear, I would never betray him."

"You are right Richard, I don't have anything to fear, especially not from you." Christian's hand latched tightly around Tate's arm. "When I don't require him anymore I'll let you know. Unit then-" he gestured towards the door. "You may leave."

The captain bowed respectfully but his eyes remained on Tate the whole time. The half-blood released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when the other man left the room. He tugged slightly against Christian's hold and the prince surprisingly released him. "You won't try to run again, will you Tate?" He asked, his tone soft and almost childlike. "Surely you wouldn't, not after what happened last time. Just think, all of those tinkers dead or sold into slavery because of you." Their eyes clashed. "If you leave again you'll just be putting more people in danger."

"You're mad." Tate whispered, putting some distance between them.

"Mad?" Christian laughed in general amusement. "You think me mad Tate? How odd, I had thought the same of you. "

"Me, why?"

Christian stepped towards him. "You fight so hard to deny me, yet all you need to do is submit to me and I will improve every aspect of your life. I saw the way the courtiers were staring at you Tate. Half of them think you're the newest accessory and they want to bed you, the other half think you're a weak abomination and they want to be rid of you. What sort of future do you suppose you'll have?"

Tate couldn't help himself, he started laughing. "You think I care what they think? You're a murderer Christian! You've ruined my life and countless others. I'll rot in hell long before I ever willingly submit to you!"

"Why do you constantly defy me?" He suddenly boomed, the volume of his voice momentarily shocking Tate into silence. In three long strides he caught hold of Tate's collar and dragged him up until his feet were dangling in the air. "I am tired of making allowances for you. Either you show me the respect I deserve or else I'll have you flogged and thrown to the guards! This is your last chance Half-blood! I make no idle threats, I promise you that! Do you understand me?" He began shaking the smaller man so hard that Tate convinced himself he heard something snap. "Answer me!" Christian screamed. "Answer me damn you!"

"Yes!" Tate gasped! He struggled to break away from Christian but the other man just kept violently shaking him. He'll break my neck! Tate realized with growing panic. "I understand!" He said, more loudly this time. Still the shaking continued. "Please, Christian! I understand! Stop!" He bellowed the latter. A moment more and then Christian dropped him. Tate crumpled to the ground. He felt sick and weak as he stared up at the prince. Hatred flared through him but with it was also a sense of resignation. He could not carry on as he was.

Christian bent down on one knee and reached for the half-blood. Tate silently cursed himself for flinching when the prince's hand wrapped gently around his chin. "No more chances," he said softly before standing back up and heading towards his inner chambers.