Falling From the Tree (Darshian Tales #2)

by Ann Somerville

  “Well, my lord Arman, not exactly re-enact. I’d like to think we’re a bit more comfortable with each other now.”

  Arman pulled him close, and slid his arms around Kei’s waist. That blue colour really did suit him. “Every time,” he said, “every time is wonderful with you. I am never complacent about the gift you gave me.”

  “Nor I, but that’s why I want your first act as Ruler to be making love to me. You are my lover first, Ruler second. You can count on me to remind you,” he said, a stern tone in his voice, but laughter in his eyes.

  “I shall,” Arman murmured, nuzzling at Kei’s neck and licking the slight saltiness from his skin, even as his hands snuck around to Kei’s back, finding the tail of the braid and unfastening it. He carded his fingers through the long fall of silk as Kei let his robes slip from his shoulders to pool on the floor, then pushed his own to join them, dark red upon the azure.

  “Such disrespect for the robes of office, my lord,” Kei whispered against his cheek.

  “We could have sex on top of them, I suppose, but the bed is softer,” he said, as his hands unlaced Kei’s best shirt and trousers. Kei seemed rather amused at his eagerness, and stood smirking at him until Arman had unlaced everything. “Stir yourself, you lazy brat—you don’t need me to take them off your legs.”

  “You’re definitely the rudest Ruler we’ve had for a while.”

  Arman slapped the perfect bottom now revealed as Kei kicked off his boots and removed his pants. “You need a firm hand—you always did.”

  Kei took Arman’s hand and put it over his cock, making his need of a firm hand right there very clear. “Strange how our minds work so similarly,” he said as he pushed up into Arman’s grip, while he undid Arman’s lacings in turn. “Oh...I’ll snap a lace.... Arman....”

  Arman tightened his grip on Kei’s erection, and carefully fisted a handful of hair at the back of Kei’s head. “Don’t care about my pissing laces, I want you. Bedroom, now.”

  “Yes, my lord, of course, my lord.” Arman released him and Kei sauntered towards the other room, tossing an entirely provocative look over his shoulders. Arman undressed faster.

  He should have known that Kei would have everything ready—the bed turned down, flowers set around the room to make it sweet-smelling, and on the side table, that very useful tido oil cream which was so good for chafing...and other things. Kei knelt on the bed, his wonderful hair spread around him, and Arman took a moment to admire this man whose beauty had only increased with age, as had his own desire and love. “The first time I saw you naked, I was so frightened this gift would be taken from me,” he said, coming over to the bed.

  Kei held out his hand, and drew Arman down. “Ironic that it was my fear of loss which so nearly kept us apart,” he murmured, kissing him, soft knowing lips caressing his, perfect teeth nibbling gently. “Did you ever imagine this day, back then? That you would be so part of us, so important to us, that you would one day lead this country?”

  “Never. I only had two ambitions—to have you, and to make you happy. And if they took everything else away from me, those would still be all I wanted.”

  “Then you are fortunate in that I am yours, and I am very, very happy, Arman. I was so proud, watching you today, but I was even prouder back then. To do what was right against so much opposition, to give everything up....”

  “Not everything,” Arman said, taking Kei into his arms. “Not the most important thing. And the things I thought I had lost have come back to me, so I am richer by far than I was.” He lay back on the bed and pulled Kei on top of him. “Now, did I hear something about your lifelong ambition was to have sex with a Ruler?”

  “Indeed, my lord.”

  “And do you think you want to be the one to do the having, or will your cock wilt in front of my majesty?”

  Kei rolled his eyes and laughed. “Not hardly, my lord. Is this your subtle way of asking me to be on top?”

  “I wasn’t aware I was being the least subtle,” Arman said with a grin, even as Kei swept the mass of his long mane out of harm’s way and reached for the pot of cream. “What, straight to it? No romancing first?”

  “Well, there’s always a risk of my cock wilting, after all.” Kei bent and kissed his chest, then swiped his tongue across Arman’s nipple, making him shiver. “Maybe I should just eat you,” he said in a low voice that made Arman’s hands on Kei’s hips grip harder with excitement.

  “Please, Kei.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” He slid back off Arman’s body and knelt between his legs, running his hands down them. “Beautiful,” he murmured, bending to kiss Arman’s stomach, and then the top of his cock, before stroking his hand down it and cupping Arman’s balls in his clever, healing hands. “Hmmm, they don’t weigh any more. I thought Rulers had balls of stone.” He laughed in delight at Arman’s expression. “You still take sex far too seriously, my love.”

  “Look, you infuriating creature—”

  “Now, now, a little decorum please.”

  Arman sighed. “Kei, please?”

  Kei’s smile grew even brighter. “You know I love to hear you beg.”

  “Huh, and here I was thinking your true love was the sound of your own voice.” He wriggled a little in pleasure since Kei had finally begun to prepare him—he loved the feel of Kei’s long fingers inside him, and knowing what was to follow. “One of these days I’m going to gag you, just to see if you can make love without talking.”

  “I suspect I can’t, but you’re welcome to try. Gods, I could watch you forever—you love this, don’t you? The way your face changes.... To think I can do this for you, that you trust me to let me touch you this way...what more could I ever want than this?”

  He reached out his hand and Arman grasped it. “I can’t imagine anyone else doing this, or ever wanting anyone to touch me...please, Kei. Please,” he begged, ashamed in his need, lifting his legs over Kei’s shoulder, and bringing their clasped hands down to his erection. “I am your lover first,” he vowed.

  Kei shifted, and the bluntness of his cock against him promised to give Arman what he needed—but still he paused. “Without the ones that I love, nothing I do means a thing,” he said quietly. “Without you, my life would be dry as the earth of the plains.” He eased himself into Arman’s body, and sighed, his face slack with pleasure.

  Long and slender though Kei’s cock was, it always felt big inside, and Arman had come to welcome that sense of being filled almost to bursting. He welcomed that when he was joined in this most intimate way, he could not be closer to Kei, could not show any more completely how much he wanted him, needed to be with him. With each thrust, Kei claimed him, with every movement, Arman welcomed him, and the only regret was that they could be not like this forever, his body filled by Kei, his nostrils filled with the warm, clean smell of Kei’s body, seeing only Kei’s intent face, the beauty of his long, lean body thrusting with measured power, Arman’s whole world narrowed to the two of them here, in this bed.

  Kei tormented him with long, slow movements, in and out, every motion controlled and careful and considered, bringing him to the edge over and over until Arman babbled with the need to come. It took only a few firm strokes of Kei’s hand on him to bring him to climax, and only a few more hard thrusts before Kei yelled his name, his body rigid as he spilled.

  And afterwards, as he held Kei, panting and sticky, still joined to him as he kissed Arman languidly, Arman silently renewed his vow to his lover. Kei first, always, in his heart, wherever their duty led them, for howsoever long he lived.

  Seeking Home: 7

  Karik tried to be unobtrusive as he limped up the main street to the stables. He really didn’t want a repeat of the encounter he’d had the day before with Asa’s mother which had left him shaking. There were a few people around in the square and in the street, but most ignored him. He got a couple of looks, but he ignored them as he walked as quickly he could manage to the sanctuary of the stables. He’d not felt this ex
posed since he’d been forced to sit at table with Mekus in Utuk.

  Risa was cleaning out one of the stalls, and smiled in welcome when he spotted him. “Oh, hello, Karik. Should you be up and about?”

  He came to take Karik’s arm and help him over to the toolbox to sit. Karik needed the help. It was ten days since he’d been attacked and he still couldn’t move easily, or fast. Still, it was better than it had been—for the first three days, he couldn’t even get out of bed unless his father carried him. Myka had finally had to dose him with pijn to let him get any sleep at all as the bruises came into their full flowering and he stiffened up. Now all the aches were receding into the background, although the actual damage was slowing him down, and he still had healing cuts and scabs on his face as a highly visible reminder of what had happened to him.

  “I’m fuh-fine. I just wuh-wanted some air.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Where’s Reji?”

  “T-Talking to Fuh-Fedor. Ma’s with M-Meis.”

  “So you made a run for it, did you?” Risa came and sat next to him. “How are you feeling?” he asked kindly.

  With anyone else he would have been brave, but Risa was one of his closest friends now, after the journey north together. “Not so g-good,” he admitted.

  “Not surprised. I can’t believe something like that happened, I really can’t. It’s the worst thing I can remember since the war.”

  Karik chose not to tell him that so far as some people were concerned—Asa’s mother included—the war and the punishment of five young boys were both crimes directly attributable to him “and your kind” as she’d put it. To hear her talk—and she’d given people plenty of opportunity to do so—Asa and Jos and the others would have led utterly blameless lives if Karik hadn’t come along and put trouble in their path. Exactly what Karik had done other than exist wasn’t clear to him, but she hadn’t been the only one to make similar remarks in his hearing. Certainly neither she nor her husband had called on his parents the way Peit and Urki had done, and neither had the other fathers and mothers. Pa was furious about it, but as Fedor said, forced apologies were worthless.

  At least Peit and his wife had been genuinely regretful, and had promised their son would not lay a finger on Karik or anyone else again. They’d offered to do whatever they could to make it up to Karik, but just the fact they’d offered and meant it, was enough for him. It hadn’t taken away the sting of Asa’s mother’s words, or the shame of being dressed down by her in the middle of the street, two of her friends listening and nodding, as if Karik had been the one to have done wrong. At least Ma hadn’t heard it. She’d had enough to put up with lately.

  “Keiji and Meran keeping you company still?”

  “Mmmm. Keiji f-found some r-red feathers. M-Meran’s going to m-make a h-hair cl-clasp.” He described a circle in the air to indicate the shape. “For h-her to wear.”

  “Well, you won’t be needing one for a while,” Risa said. “What a year you’ve had, Karik, and I bet you used to think it was so dull in the village.”

  “D-Dull is good,” he said fervently. Dull would be very nice indeed, but it was something he never got to enjoy any more.

  “Well, dull is fine for a while, or if you’re content with the same thing all the time, but I wouldn’t have thought you would be.” He got up and picked up the broom he was using to sweep out the stalls, and continued with his work. Normally, Karik would have helped him—he hadn’t been able to do chores since he’d been hurt, and that, almost more than anything else, made him depressed. He hated feeling like deadweight.

  The lack of anything to occupy his thoughts had only increased the sense of dislocation he’d suffered since he’d returned. Even once Jos and the other boys had finished their sentence, their animosity towards him would remain and indeed be worse than before. Fedor couldn’t keep punishing them—sooner or later, someone would have to leave. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly who people thought it should be.

  “Are you all right there, Karik? I’ve got to get on with this, but if you want company....”

  “N-No. I’m f-fine. J-just want to th-think.”

  “Then you do that. With a family my size, I used to hide out in the stables too. It’s probably why I ended up working with your Pa.”

  Karik smiled a little. A man who understood the need for peace and quiet was a good friend to have.

  He watched Risa work for a while, lost in his own thoughts, when his father’s voice from outside the stable door broke into them. “Karik?”

  He straightened up. “Here, Pa.”

  “Your Ma didn’t realise you’d left the house,” his father said, coming inside. “She was worried.”

  “S-Sorry.” So it had come to the point when his mother didn’t believe he would be safe just walking up the street where he had walked and played all his life.

  Pa nodded at Risa, then came and sat down. “How are you feeling, son? Still stiff?”

  “A b-bit.”

  “It’ll take a while. My ribs still ache—mind you, I’m a bit older so things don’t heal so fast.”

  Karik nodded. “Sh-should I go huh-home?”

  “No, it’s fine. I told Jena I’d come find you. I think the krak-krak chicks are hatched now. I saw the parents hunting—they were pretty busy. Have you been up past the waterhole? “

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you want to walk up there now? I’ve got time, we could go together.”

  Karik was tempted. But at the same time, it would mean walking past the forge where Asa had been set to work. “M-maybe later, Pa.”

  His father gave him a narrow look, then lifted his head. “Risa-ki, I forgot to bring that salve Myka made up for that beast’s leg. Maybe you could pick it up when you come back after lunch.”

  “Sure, Reji. I was just heading off now. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Karik looked at the two men in surprise—he thought Risa had said he needed to finish sweeping out. But Risa just waved cheerily and disappeared out of the barn doors, leaving Karik and Pa sitting in the dim stillness of the stable.

  Pa seemed a little uneasy about something, and Karik realised that he must have given Risa a signal that he wanted them to be left alone. Pa didn’t say anything for a few moments, but finally he sighed. “You know I was just speaking to Fedor.” Karik nodded. “Well, he, uh...really Sira did...anyway we know what happened with Karo yesterday. What she said.”

  “Oh.” Karo was Asa’s mother. “I didn’t—”

  “No, I know you didn’t. Sira gave her a piece of her mind after you went off. I’m sorry you had to have that happen to you.”

  Karik shrugged. “Sh-she’s his M-Ma.”

  “She’s a stupid bigot, if you ask me. I know she was in the village during the war, but none of her family suffered the way some others did, and it’s not like you’ve got anything to do with that at all. No wonder Asa’s such a fool.”

  Karik didn’t know what to say. Criticising an adult member of the clan wasn’t his place, even if he agreed with his father. “P-Pa, I don’t...wuh-will people always huh-hate me?”

  Pa put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I know there are many people who will always love you. I know there are more of them in this village than the other sort, but I won’t try to convince you that you shouldn’t mind about the others. It makes me realise what an easy childhood I had,” he said thoughtfully. “But even in Ai-Darbin, there was a girl a bit older than me who had a squint, and she got a lot of teasing just because she looked a bit odd. People thought she was stupid because of it, which was far from the truth. She’s married now to a lovely man, but it can’t have been much fun for her growing up. The problem with our clans is that we’re flexible about people leaving and joining, but when it comes to real change, or difference, we’re as rigid as this.” He rapped the wooden beam at the corner of the stall. “We look after our own, but some people have some funny notions about what ‘our own’ means.”

  “I
don’t kn-know what to do, Pa.” He hung his head. A squint was nothing compared to his looks. Even if you had a squint, you could still be Darshianese.

  “Well, there are only two things you can do. You can bear it and let it make you stronger, or you can leave and make a new life somewhere else. Otherwise you just give up and let it grind you down, but I don’t see you doing that.”

  Karik wasn’t so sure about that, the way he felt now. He didn’t feel strong enough to do much else. “I c-can’t leave. N-Not yet.”

  “Actually....” His father leaned back against the wall. “I told Kei about what happened to you, and he was pretty angry about it, wanted to know what he could do to help. A couple of days ago he got in touch again and made a suggestion. At the time, your mother and I were certain you wouldn’t be interested, but maybe I should tell you anyway. Did you know Arman is going to Andon for two months? Kei has to stay behind because of his work.”

  “Oh.”

  “And, well, you know I was going to go up to Darshek in a week or so...you can tell where this is going, can’t you?”

  “I c-can’t, Pa....”

  “No, wait, there’s more to it than that. Kei doesn’t just want you up there for company. He wants you to attend some classes, use the library. See if you like the work, and then next year, if you’re interested, you can go back and attend a course for real, do the healer examination, only not to be a healer. I would stay with you both for a week, leave you with Kei and then pick you up when I come back on the next run.”

  Karik shook his head. “I can’t.” The idea of being away from his parents made him sick. “D-don’t make me, p-please?” he whispered, his eyes getting all scratchy. He wiped them on his arm, as if he’d just got some dirt in them.

  But Pa wasn’t fooled. He put a careful arm around Karik. “No one’s going to make you do anything, son,” he said, pulling close and kissing the top of his head. “Don’t get upset. It was just an idea.”