Not In This Lifetime Ch. 02

Trigger warnings & Author's notes

May contain: Violence, extreme domination, degradation, sadism, non-consent/coercion, slavery.

This is a combination romance/smut.

I am not entirely sure where I am going with this, I haven't written anything in a very long time so apologies if it's messy. Really, it's basically a first draft without a plan that's barely pieced together in my brain.

I don't know much about much, I'm just a horny fool writing. Always open to feedback and suggestions.

I think I am going to try alternating between the past and present. I will try to keep things clear. We'll see how it goes.

Chapter Two: new beginnings

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Eight years before the fall of the rebellion.

"Well I'll be damned."

Officer Symond Welles stared at the image of the young man on the screen before him, his interest piqued.

"That's Mile Domarc, clear as day," officer Tane stated in disbelief.

The room of officers fell quiet as the reality set in of what exactly this meant.

Mile Domarc was the second child of the royal family. He had spent the past four years enlisted in the Royal Army -- per his father's request -- but he had gone AWOL for the last three months or so. The entire kingdom seemed to be clamoring as to his whereabouts. There was talk of an assassination, likely via a soldier from the north, or perhaps even by the small rebellion group that was gaining traction in the kingdom in response to King Oppius Domarc's "tyrannical" rule, as they described it. Others spoke of the young nobleman going rogue. Abandoning the royal life for one of quiet anonymity-- perhaps meeting a beautiful woman and eloping.

Officer Symond had rolled his eyes at that one -- the common folk loved to romanticize noble life. The reality of it was usually always much less exciting. He had suspected that the young royal had met a quiet and unfortunate end in battle, as many young soldiers do. He had, after all, been deployed up north to join the ranks of soldiers fighting to acquire more territory prior to his disappearance.

And yet here he was, clear as day, as his fellow officer had said. Seemingly alive and well. In normal circumstances, this would be great news. The issue was that Mile Domarc was in rebel territory among rebel soldiers. He was not restrained, or being threatened, and he didn't appear to be in any state of distress. He was walking among them peacefully. The only reasonable explanation was that Mile Domarc was a rebel soldier.

Symond was intrigued. He reached up to rest his chin against the back of his knuckles, and found himself staring thoughtfully at the frozen frame on the screen. The young man had green eyes typical of the royal family and dark brown hair that hadn't been trimmed to meet the dress code expected of a lower ranking soldier in the Royal Army. He was wearing casual clothing unfit for royalty -- a plain gray T-shirt and jeans.

"He's with the rebels now?" Another officer inquired, incredulously, pulling Symond from his thoughts. He nodded and stood.

"That appears to be the case. I'll report to the general."

Officer Tane shook his head. "King Domarc is not going to handle this well."

The thought brought a smirk to Symond's lips. The impetuous ruler definitely would not handle this well. He was glad he was not the one who had to break the news to him.

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As expected, King Oppius Domarc was furious when General Narder informed him and the royal council of what they had discovered. He had initially refused to believe the general's words, threatening to have his tongue cut out for speaking ill of the royal family. After a few more threats, and with insistence from the council, he eventually agreed to watch the video.

The soundless video flashed to life on a computer screen in front of the room full of tense noblemen. The general motioned toward the screen as a group of what was mostly young men were walking down a paved street.

"This is surveillance footage from the village of Wolfpine. Wolfpine is currently occupied by the rebellion. We managed to have a villager install a hidden security camera in the town square."

The rebels had swarmed the town seven months prior. At the time, King Domarc had refused to humor the rebellion. Up until that point, talk of an uprising had simply been a rumor. A quiet whisper of gossip spreading among the people. When it became clear that there was an actual movement taking place, and then the rebel soldiers had claimed the village of Wolfpine, the king insisted that it was a joke and an insult, and said he would not waste resources on "child's play." At the urging of his council and General Narder, he had ultimately allowed small groups of soldiers to be to sent to reclaim the village, but the rebel soldiers had managed to fight off the squads each time and maintained their hold on the town. Wolfpine was simply too small of a village and too far off for the King to give much thought to.

Until now, perhaps.

The king's irate green eyes were locked on the screen in front of him. The image wasn't all that crisp, but one could make out the features of the young men well enough.

General Narder continued. "Here we have some known members of the rebellion." He paused the video and indicated to three of the figures on the screen. "Dego Arcus. Bere Rancis. Elos Thiled. It is likely that these three men are the founders of the rebellion."

General Narder paused to look at the King to make sure he was still following. When he received no acknowledgment, he decided to continue. He unpaused the video. A few more people walked by, both men and women.

Narder spoke again. "Now we're going to see what appears to be your son walking with the rebel soldiers." He pointed to the right of the screen where a figure appeared, following those before him. After a moment, the king finally spoke.

"Go back."

General Narder rewound the video and they watched the figure walk by again.

"Again."

Narder again rewound the video, then paused the screen and zoomed in. He gazed at the image for a moment before turning to look at the king. King Domarc sat quietly, silent rage emanating from his very being. He stared at the image on the screen. His son. Dressed like a commoner, but definitely his son.

He swallowed, and then spoke.

"You are certain this footage hasn't been doctored?"

Narder nodded slowly. "Yes, your highness."

The king said nothing for a few moments, deep in thought. At last he turned to General Narder and said, somewhat dismissively, "place a bounty. I want him back here alive."

The General hesitated. "Your highness, allow me to send a platoon to Wolfpine. With those numbers we will easily overpower the rebellion and put an end to this nonsense. We will return your son unharmed."

"No."

General Narder blinked in surprise and all eyes were on the king. "I told you, Narder, I will not humor this joke of a rebellion. I have the most powerful army in the world. I will not waste my time and energy on this fictitious threat when my resources are required elsewhere." He was, of course, referring to the ongoing friction the kingdom had with the Northlands.

Linma Misha, one of the men on the king's council and his closest confidant, spoke up. "Your highness, please reconsider. It would be prudent to squash this rebellion before it becomes a problem for us. If General Narder can --" He was cut off by the King before he could finish.

"It will not become a problem. Place the bounty. Don't make me say it again."

The men looked around at each other apprehensively. Finally Narder bowed his head in assent.

"It will be done, my king."

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General Narder sighed as he entered his headquarters following his meeting with the king and council.

"Officer Welles."

Symond turned from where he had been mulling over documents and stood to meet the general.

"Sir."

Narder sighed again and removed his glasses from his face before pulling a lens cloth from his front pocket and wiping the smudges from the glass. "The king will not allow us to overtake the rebellion. I fear a storm is brewing on the horizon."

Symond raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Still he allows this threat to grow? And what of his son?"

"He has called for a bounty for his return unharmed." The general walked to his desk and collapsed in the chair. "He will not allow us to retrieve him. He doesn't believe the rebellion to be a legitimate threat."

Symond frowned. "And so he allows them to grow and to become a legitimate threat."

Narder said nothing for a moment as he thought about the situation. Then he let out yet another sigh. "It's the wrong move, but it is not our place to continue to question him. The council can do that as they deem fit." He turned in his chair to face to the other man. "You're my best officer, Welles. You've really proven yourself over these past few years and I've come to rely on you heavily."

Symond looked at the general inquisitively. "Sir?"

"I'm afraid I have to ask more of you, but I feel that you are the only one up for the job. I'm placing Wolfpine in your jurisdiction. Keep an eye on the situation. Get more surveillance cams in there if you can. I'll get you the contact info for our Wolfpine mole. I want more information about these rebels." As an afterthought, he added, "apprehend Mile Domarc if you are able to, but do not engage in battle with the rebels if you can avoid it."

Symond nodded. "Sir."

It was going to be an interesting year.

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Officer Symond sat under a tree on a hill on the outskirts of the small village of Wolfpine. He was bored. Ever since General Narder had put him in charge of the situation with the rebellion a couple of months ago, he had found that he had too much free time on his hands. He and the villager mole had managed to install a few more security cameras throughout the town, but nothing had come of it. Not long afterward, the villager had gotten cold feet and informed Symond that he would no longer be assisting him. Symond, frustrated with the overall situation, had berated the poor man and called him a coward. In hindsight, he couldn't blame him, living amongst the rebel soldiers whilst simultaneously betraying them certainly must have been taxing. A few days later the cameras went offline. Everything seemed to be at a standstill.

Every once in a while he would find a rebel soldier or two trying to infiltrate the nearby villages, likely scouting out their next location to lay claim to, or perhaps recruiting people to join their cause. It didn't take much to put a stop to these incidents when they happened -- the rebel soldiers were mostly young and didn't seem keen to engage in battle. Symond had to rough up a few of them here and there, but mostly they would just flee when confronted. It was boring, but he noted that was for the best.

Today was one of the days he decided to go on his own scouting mission on the outskirts of the town. The poorer part of the kingdom -- which was, admittedly, the majority of the kingdom -- was mostly off grid; not having access to modern technologies and even, in some instances, electricity and public water systems. Symond had taken a horse from the nearby town of Eastrun and set out early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. By the time he arrived, it was beginning to peek over the eastern mountain tops. Symond had decided to hunker down at the edge of the forest and see what he could see. He secured his horse further back in the trees, and then sat himself on the hillside, pulling out a pair of binoculars.

As expected, he saw nothing noteworthy. The village began to come to life with the regular hustle and bustle of the townsfolk. He saw Elos Thiled, one of the suspected founders of the rebellion. He was talking to someone else outside of a small mom and pop cafe located at the edge of town. If only Symond could be a fly on the wall.

He placed his binoculars on the ground next to him. This was utterly pointless, he'd have to find a way to get some of his tech back into the village. He leaned back against the tree and sighed, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. He decided he was going to have to speak to the general about picking up some of his old duties that had been reassigned when he was put on rebel watch. It was beginning to seem as though the king was right after all about this rebellion not being a real threat. Symond found himself beginning to succumb to drowsiness from all the sitting around, when he noticed a figure approaching from the town. He quickly put the binoculars back up to his face to get a better look.

It couldn't be.

There in the distance, approaching him, was the king's insurgent son. And he was alone. Symond couldn't believe his luck, and he quickly brainstormed the best way to handle the situation. He wasn't in uniform as he didn't want to raise any alarm bells if he were to be spotted, and he was certain that Mile didn't know who he was. If he played his cards right, he could perhaps get close enough to the young man to apprehend him before he realized anything was amiss. As far as Mile knew, he was just another villager. He decided to commit to this role and stood to greet Mile as he drew closer. He waved. Mile stopped, surprised to see the other.

"Hello there! What brings you out here?" Mile hesitated, looking the other up and down, searching for any clue as to who he might be. Finally, he spoke.

"I could ask you the same."

Symond smiled and nodded toward the forest. "I came to graze my sheep out here." He wondered if anyone in the area actually raised sheep, or if he had just shot himself in the foot. Mile looked into the trees where Symond had motioned to. It seemed as though he knew nothing of sheep as he didn't immediately question the idea that Symond was grazing the sheep in the forest instead of on the open hillside, where the grass was abundant and he'd be able to account for them all more easily.

Symond continued speaking before Mile could consider this. "So what about you? What brings you out here this fine morning?" Mile, still cautious, seemed to take a moment to consider his answer.

"I love the view from up here." He paused and looked over the other some more. "But I didn't realize this was your property, so I will be off." He turned to leave, clearly feeling unsettled by the other man's presence.

"That's not necessary," Symond carefully approached Mile to clap a hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "You are welcome here." Mile blinked and turned to face him, surprised by the sudden close proximity of the other. He said nothing, uncomfortably lowering his eyes to the ground.

Symond noticed his gaze linger and felt the young man's shoulder tense up.

His boots. Mile was looking at his boots. Symond hadn't bothered wearing something other than the boots issued to him via the army as he certainly hadn't anticipated getting this close to Mile Domarc. Of course Mile would recognize the boots, having served in the army himself.

Mile turned to run, but Symond immediately sprang into action, strategically stretching his leg out in an effort to trip the man. He managed to catch one foot, and Mile toppled to the ground in surprise.

"Mile Domarc," Symond pulled him to his feet, with a firm grip on his upper arm. He couldn't help but admire the young man's face, now that they were up close and personal. Mile was 25, beyond the minimum age of what was considered to be an "adult," but he looked so young -- just a kid, really. Symond wondered when he had had this change in perspective. He himself had joined the Royal Army at 18, and he certainly hadn't felt like a child back then. He realized it was kind of insane that these young adults were expected to serve in the army. To give their lives before they even really had them.

Mile scowled at the mention of his name, and Symond noticed the brief look of panic flicker across his features when he came to his senses and realized the officer had a secure hold on him.

"Daddy's been looking for you, he's placed a pretty penny on your head, you know."

"Fucking let go of me, asshole." Mile glared daggers at the older man. Symond smiled at the thick accent the young man sported. He was obviously trying to suppress it earlier. The "Noble" accent, as it was referred to in the kingdom, tended to be a rarity on the battlefields, what with the majority of soldiers being common folk. After so many years of being in the army himself, Symond found that his own accent had faded pretty significantly. The royal family had the thickest accents and used the most proper dialect even as far as nobility goes -- it was basically a tradition passed down through the generations. A blatant reminder of status. Symond had always found it to be kind of silly and dated, but hearing this young man curse him with such a proper accent was bizarrely endearing.

Mile started to pull away from Officer Symond when the other made no response. Symond tightened his grip on his arm.

"Listen, if you go back now, your punishment will likely be minimal. You're young and impulsive, mistakes were made. But you're still the king's son." Mile immediately stopped struggling to get free and stiffened.

"I am not going back."

Symond raised an eyebrow. "Privileged life treating you poorly? Don't be an idiot. You were born into a life of luxury. Many would kill to be in your position. Don't piss that away."

"That's not -- I am not --" Mile frowned as he struggled to find the words to reply. Frustrated, he realized he didn't need to justify himself to this enemy soldier and he turned his head away. "Fuck off, asshole."

Symond snickered and started guiding Mile by the arm. "A foul mouth for such a pretty face. Let's move, you." The younger man stumbled a bit from the sudden forced movement before digging in his heels and pulling in the opposite direction.

"Let go of me. That's an order!"

Symond laughed again, still pulling the struggling young man in his tow. "Are you a rebel soldier or are you a prince of the royal kingdom? You can't have it both ways. Either way, the king has insisted upon your presence, and his order trumps yours."

Unable to escape the other through physical means, Mile tried a different approach.

"Look, whatever he is paying you, I will double. Just let me go."

Symond shook his head. "Not interested in your money."

Mile frowned at the response and tried again. "Why do you follow him blindly? He is a selfish and cruel ruler -- he does not care about the people in the kingdom, he cares only about himself."

"I can't complain," Symond replied, without looking at the other.

"Because you are one of the few that benefit from his fucked up hierarchy, and you have not yet gotten on his bad side," Mile spat out bitterly.

Symond sighed and stopped walking. He turned to look at the indignant young man that was glowering back at him. "The monarchy existed before his rule. He is simply following the traditions of those that came before him. This system you oppose is bigger than all of us." He paused for a moment and looked off into the distance, pensively. "What you want to do cannot be done. Not in this lifetime. Don't throw your life away for this hopeless cause. This rebellion is a fool's errand. You can do more good as the king's son. As a soldier in the royal army."

Mile scowled at Symond. "I have no real power as the second son. I am just another cog in the system I despise, living on the backs of the slave labor of others. I would die before returning to that existence."

Symond sighed again and resumed walking. "So be it. But not before I take you to the king."

"You goddamn piece of shit!" Mile's struggling returned tenfold. He grasped at the man's hand that was gripping his arm and tried to pry it off of himself. Symond was growing increasingly impatient with the young man. While the situation with Mile had been amusing at first, he was over it. It felt like he was trying to wrangle a cat.