Marcus swallowed hard. “Don't, Master, of course you deserve me. You are a prince. I am just a slave,” he said quietly. He reached up and touched his face lightly. “I am yours."
Wilhelm shook his head. He ached to take Marcus in his arms but he couldn't. “You are a slave no longer,” he said, barely above a whisper. “You are free. I will let the steward know, and he will give you a stipend to live on. You are free to stay in the castle if you like, but it will be your choice.” He turned away to hide his despair.
Marcus gasped. “But why?” He stepped towards him again. “Master, have I displeased you so much? Please, can't I have another chance? I swear to you ... I swear I shall never cause you pain again,” he pleaded.
Wilhelm frowned and turned to look at Marcus. “Don't you understand?” he said more harshly than he intended. “You are free. No longer a slave. You don't have to serve me any more. You don't have to serve anyone.” He would instruct the steward to give Marcus plenty to live on for a while.
To Marcus, it was as if he'd said he didn't want him anymore. He looked down. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “Your Majesty."
Wilhelm wanted to sob, to take it all back, to keep Marcus at his side forever. But he couldn't. Marcus didn't want him, not really. He needed a lover who was with him willingly, body and soul. “Good luck to you,” he said, choking back tears. “You may go.” He wanted him to go, to be away before he begged him to stay.
Marcus could barely see his way to the door. He didn't thank him. He didn't say anything. He just fled. He made his way down the back stairway, straight to the slave quarters. He didn't know where else to go. He climbed into the farthest corner pallet and curled up in a ball, sobbing brokenly. It hurt so much; he wasn't sure how he was going to carry on.
Wilhelm didn't move for long moments after Marcus left. He stood and stared at the door, feeling the emptiness of the room acutely. Finally, once he'd pulled himself together, he called for the steward to arrange for Marcus’ freedom.
* * * *
"Were you punished badly?” Frederic said, crouching beside Marcus. He'd walked in the room looking for the source of the crying.
Marcus was startled when he heard Frederic's voice so close. “No,” he mumbled. “I wish I was. He sent me away. He never wants to see me again,” he said, covering his face with his hands as tears spilled down his cheeks and his slender shoulders shook.
Frederic looked stunned. “He wasn't angry, though? He didn't have you beaten?"
"No,” he said sniffling. “He spent the whole day in his rooms and wouldn't let anyone inside. Finally he looked out and I begged him to let me apologize.” He took a hiccupping breath. “He said I hadn't done anything wrong, and then he said I was a free man, then he sent me away.” Saying the words brought a fresh round of broken sobs.
Frederic gasped. “He freed you? After he found us together? That doesn't make sense."
Marcus shrugged, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “He doesn't want to see me anymore. I wish he'd had me killed instead."
"Don't say that,” Frederic said, rubbing Marcus’ back. “I just don't know why he'd do that, unless..."
Marcus quieted, a lull in the torrent of emotion. “Unless what?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Not that it mattered. He would never see his handsome prince again. Nothing mattered at all.
After a moment, Frederic shook his head. “I don't know. Never mind, just rest for a little bit, all right? Don't leave or anything without telling me goodbye.” He rubbed Marcus’ back once more before standing up again.
Marcus nodded. He felt numb. “I'll probably go soon, though, so don't disappear,” he said quietly. He wanted to run away, hide from the world. He hadn't given any thought to what he was going to do now that he had a choice.
"I won't be long,” promised Frederic, and he slipped out.
* * * *
Wilhelm looked up when a slim figure appeared in his quarters. It wasn't Marcus, though, but Frederic. He frowned and sat up. “How did you get in?"
Frederic bowed his head. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I needed to speak to you. About Marcus,” he said.
Wilhelm pushed his hair out of his face. “Is he all right?” he asked in a worried tone. His stomach churned at the very mention of Marcus. He wanted to be angry with Frederic, but he couldn't.
"I guess that's a mater of opinion, Your Majesty. He's a free man, or so he said. But he's miserable about it, for some reason.” He folded his arms behind his back. “He seems to believe you never wish to see him again."
Wilhelm felt odd discussing this with Frederic, but he was thirsty for information about Marcus. “He ... he's miserable? But he is free..."
"If I may speak plainly, your Majesty, he told me that he would have preferred that you'd had him executed than to send him away from you,” he said, boldly meeting the prince's gaze.
Wilhelm gasped, eyes wide. “Why would he say such a thing? I thought he would want to be free of me. Unless, of course, he wishes to stay with you. I did tell him he didn't have to leave the castle."
"Your Majesty, ‘twas obvious to me that it is you he wishes to be near, not me. You were all he could talk about. He kept saying that you didn't want to see him anymore. He was completely despondent."
Wilhelm wanted to believe it. But he couldn't, not yet. “Why would you tell me this?” he asked. “I do not intend to punish you, if that's what you're worried about."
Frederic frowned. “I thought that perhaps you freed him because you cared for him. And if that were true you would want to know that he is going to leave."
"I do care for him,” Wilhelm answered immediately. “I love him, in fact. Which is why I had to let him go. Because I no longer wish to force him to be with me.” He looked down. He felt awful about it all over again.
"Well, he does not know that. He is certain you never want to lay eyes on him again. I thought you would wish to know, your Majesty. He was in the slave quarters an hour past. I made him promise not to leave without saying goodbye."
Hope sprang up in Wilhelm's heart. Was it possible? He stood a little shakily. “I will go to him,” he said softly but definitively. He looked at Frederic. “Thank you. For telling me."
* * * *
Wilhelm raced to the slaves’ quarters, hoping he wasn't too late. He pushed his way in past several surprised slaves and guards. He asked where Marcus’ cot was, and he was directed there. But it was too late. The guard told him that Marcus had gone.
Wilhelm stood, stunned for a moment. Then he did the only thing he could think of. He sought out the steward.
* * * *
The steward saw the prince walking briskly towards him, and he slowed his steps. He turned and waited for him. “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing. “I have delivered the documents you requested. However,” he held up a sizeable purse, “he refused the coin. I insisted, but he would have none of it."
Wilhelm blinked. “But where has he gone? If he refused the money he has nothing!” He looked around as if he might catch sight of his love.
The steward looked nonplussed. “He was leaving, Your Majesty. You granted him his freedom."
"I know!” Wilhelm exclaimed impatiently. He resisted the urge to stomp his foot. “Did he say where he was going?"
The steward stiffened a little. “I am sorry, Your Majesty. He did not tell me his plans. He did not leave long ago. I can send a guard to search for him if you wish."
Wilhelm thought about it for a moment. He didn't want to force Marcus to stay. “No, I shall look for him myself."
Marcus could have been long gone, but he'd waited, hoping to see Frederic again. Finally, he'd felt as if it was time to go. He'd pulled on the clothes he'd come to the castle with, and headed for the gates with a heavy heart. He had no destination in mind. He had no money. He was simply going to throw himself at fate.
Wilhelm didn't know where to look, but he thought he'd position himself by the gates so he could see everyone who left. He hoped it wasn't too late
already. He'd borrowed a long cloak with which he could conceal his identity, and stationed himself to watch.
Marcus trudged towards the gates. It didn't matter what happened to him, anyway. He looked down, hair falling in his face. He wrapped his arms around himself as a cool breeze whipped around his arms.
Wilhelm watched each of the people that passed by, searching frantically for the man he knew he couldn't live without. If he was too late, if Marcus had already passed outside of these gates, he knew he would never find him. Every time he saw a young, slim man his heart leapt; but then they would get closer and he could see it wasn't Marcus.
Marcus was barely aware of where he was going. He knew where the gates were. They were large enough that he couldn't possibly miss them, even though he was staring at the ground, for the most part.
Wilhelm could barely believe his eyes when he spotted Marcus. He walked forward, needing to be sure. It had to be him, though he looked so small in his cloak. He almost lost his nerve, but he knew it was his last chance. He stepped into Marcus’ path and said, “Marcus."
Marcus looked up, wide-eyed. He swallowed hard. “Mas ... I mean ... Your Majesty.” He bowed his head. “I'm sorry. I am leaving,” he whispered. His bottom lip trembled, and he fought to hold back the tears.
"No!” Wilhelm cried, a little too loudly. “I mean ... please. Wait, I wish to speak to you, Marcus. Can you not wait a moment?” He stared at Marcus, drinking him in.
Marcus raised his eyes to the prince's. “I would stand here for the rest of my life if you asked it of me."
Wilhelm felt the tears welling up in his eyes. “Then why, Marcus? Why would you leave? I set you free because I love you and I do not wish you to be with me only because I owned you.” It was frightening to say the words.
Marcus gasped. He glanced around. They were almost surrounded by people. “Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, Your Majesty?” he said quietly. He knew he wasn't going to get through this conversation without making a scene that would hurt the prince's reputation, even if it ultimately made him happy.
Wilhelm frowned. Marcus clearly did not even wish to be seen with him. “All right, if you promise not to run away this time,” he whispered, trying not to sound as if his heart was breaking.
Marcus nodded and followed the prince back to his chambers. He could tell that the prince was not happy about his suggestion, but he hoped things would go better once he could speak freely. As soon as the door was closed behind him, he turned and looked at the prince. “I did not think it would serve you well if the king were to hear you declare your love for your former slave,” he said softly. “And the only reason I was leaving was because I thought you wanted me to, your Majesty. I did not wish to cause you any further pain. If you want me to stay, nothing could make me depart."
"I do not care what the king thinks,” Wilhelm said impetuously. He barely held back from kissing Marcus passionately. “I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you, my sweet Marcus. I should never have kept you as my slave; I should have freed you long ago. But I was selfish and wanted you to never leave me."
"I ... I love you, too, my beautiful Master,” he said softly. He reached out and touched the prince's face gently. “I am so sorry that I hurt you. If I had known, I would never have gone with Frederic. I swear to you. I don't want anyone but you."
Wilhelm looked down. “I am so ashamed that I took advantage of you like that. I never said you could not be with Frederic. But it just hurt so badly to see his hands on you.” He didn't dare hope, though he had heard Marcus profess his love.
"And you shall never see it again. I thought I was just an object to you. A possession. And that it would not matter to you. But even so, I felt guilty going with him, like I was betraying you. Because I love you, and I wanted to be with you. I will never be your equal, but at least I am more than property now,” he said quietly.
Wilhelm looked into Marcus’ eyes. “I am sorry I made you feel like a possession,” he whispered. Though the man had been just that. His property. He ached to take him in his arms, but he held back. He wanted no misunderstanding between them now. “I ... I love you. I cannot live without you, Marcus. Please stay with me. But I ask you as a lover, not a prince."
For the first time, Marcus felt bold enough to make a move. He stepped close and slid his arms around the prince's waist. “How should I address you, then, Your Majesty? When we are alone, I mean."
Wilhelm moaned at Marcus’ touch. He almost couldn't believe he had him back, after thinking he'd lost him forever. “Call me ... call me Wilhelm,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.
Marcus smiled. “Wilhelm is a lovely name,” he said. He leaned in and kissed him on the lips, feeling brazen because Wilhelm seemed to like it.
Wilhelm whimpered for a moment, then began to kiss back eagerly. All his despair turned to desire, and suddenly he was achingly aroused. He pulled Marcus tighter against his body, and kissed him as if he would die without it.
Marcus let himself be pulled, melting against Wilhelm's body. It was strange to think of his Master by his real name, but it was nice, too. He wasn't used to being almost like an equal. He hoped he didn't overstep. He kissed his lover back, all the sadness and despair ebbing away in the feeling of being loved.
It was better than before, even. Wilhelm devoured Marcus, kissing him thoroughly, hands moving restlessly over the former slave's body. He needed to possess him. It felt like it had been years since he'd done so, and suddenly he was nearly frantic. He didn't want to force Marcus, though. He needed this to be mutual.
Marcus responded more than usual. Before he had done as he was told, though he enjoyed it as completely as his Master did. Now he felt that he had unspoken permission to participate actively. He slid his fingers up under the back of Wilhelm's fine soft shirt, feeling every ripple of muscle beneath the creamy smooth skin.
Slowly, everything in the past was dissolving, and all that mattered was the two of them. Marcus was in his arms at last, willingly, and they had all the time in the world. He was so hard for this beautiful young man, and he would take him soon. Over and over, all night and all day. He loved the feeling of Marcus’ hands on him, and he returned the favor, pushing the other man's shirt up, caressing his bare skin.
Marcus leaned back and pulled his shirt off for his lover, then helped him with his shirt. He ran his hands all over Wilhelm's chest reverently. “I have always thought you the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” he breathed.
Wilhelm smiled. “Funny, I thought the very same thing about you,” he replied. He dropped his hands to Marcus’ trousers. “I wish to touch you everywhere, my love.” Calling Marcus his love was exciting and new, but it felt so right.
Marcus smiled. “You may touch me wherever you like, whenever you like,” he said softly. He tugged loose the tie on his trousers and slid them off until he was standing naked before the Prince again. “I love you ... Wilhelm."
Wilhelm's breath hitched; no matter how many times he'd seen Marcus naked, he never failed to stun him with his beauty. And now that he knew his love was returned, it was even better. “'Tis a shame to cover that gorgeous body,” he said, eyes roaming.
Marcus grinned. “I could say the same, Ma ... Wilhelm,” he whispered, tugging at the Prince's trousers. “It was only two days past, but it feels like a lifetime,” he murmured.
Wilhelm moaned and helped remove his trousers. “Any time away from you is too long,” he said, and when they were both naked he pulled Marcus into his arms again. “Much better.” Their bodies fit together perfectly.
Marcus bent his head and nuzzled and suckled at the side of Wilhelm's neck. “I was miserable without you. I could not imagine what my life would be like, but it seemed dark and horrible."
"Life without you would not be worth living,” Wilhelm said earnestly. “I wish you to stay with me forever. As my consort, or whatever my father will allow. But you will be with me."
> "I will never leave so long as you want me, my love,” he said. He raised his eyes to Wilhelm's and kissed him again.
"I will want you forever,” Wilhelm replied, after the kiss broke, and he began to pull Marcus toward the bed. He didn't want Marcus to think he only wanted sex, but right now it was all he could think of.
Marcus tumbled back onto the broad bed with a happy smile. He could never have imagined such joy after such despair just a few hours before. He scooted over, making room for the prince. “Then you shall never be rid of me."
"Good,” Wilhelm grinned, rolling on top of the former slave. He moaned as their bodies lined up perfectly. “I love you, sweet Marcus,” he moaned. “Now you are truly mine."
Marcus was desperate for Wilhelm suddenly, and he raked his nails lightly up his back. He leaned up and kissed him deeply, plunging his tongue into the slick heat. Wilhelm's words set him on fire, and he wanted to show him the depth of his desire in his actions.
Wilhelm groaned into the kiss, undone by Marcus’ passion. He'd never desired anyone this much, and he knew it was because of their love as well as their lust. Marcus was his perfect lover. He moved against him, pressing him into the bed, because he knew Marcus liked it that way.
Marcus shifted beneath the other man, spreading his legs apart in obvious invitation. “Take me, please, Wilhelm. I need you so much.” He was throbbing with desire as he gazed into the prince's warm brown eyes.
"My Marcus,” Wilhelm breathed, reaching out for the oil, then slicking himself quickly. “Need you, all of you...” He was as desperate as he had been the first time.
"I'm yours, my beautiful Master,” he breathed, using the word as an endearment. He was panting now, and it all seemed so much more real. “Yours forever."
Wilhelm's cock seemed to slip into position automatically and he pressed upward, entering Marcus’ hot, tight body. “Mine,” he groaned, drowning in sweet friction.
Marcus sucked in a deep breath. He remembered that he was free, and could do as he liked now. He moaned, tilting his head back. “So perfect,” he whispered.
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III Page 9
