Season content notes: torture, nonsexual dubcon

Late that night, a rough kick roused Dannel from fitful sleep. He rolled away and onto his feet before he woke fully. A vicious, throaty voice ground into his hearing. “The master wants you. Get moving.”

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Dannel staggered out of the room, careful not to jostle any of the ten other men he shared quarters with. A few of them snorted in their sleep when he passed, but they didn’t wake. A hard shove sent him out into the lamp-lit hall without giving him time to let his eyes adjust. Still bleary-eyed and half awake, his feet drifted to the left. A rough hand dragged him back to the hall on the right and kept him moving until he reached Lord Falthro’s office.

Dannel swallowed bile at the thought of the choice he’d made in that office less than a week ago. He steeled his nerves, now fully awake, and entered. Silk rustled as the fae lord – the master – looked up from his book, and his eyes widened. “I would have thought you were asleep.”

“I was… Master.” The title stuck in his throat like a lump of mold on stale bread. This was the path he’d chosen. Dannel couldn’t change the truth by wishing. Nor could he change the blue pinstripe hose and bright green and yellow button-up robe the lord wore. The floral slippers didn’t help the outfit. “I understand you wanted to see me.”

“I did wish to speak with you, yes. But I expected you in the morning.” The fae set a marker in the book and closed it. He set it aside as he spoke. “Well, you are here now. Come, sit.” His smooth, lustrous voice carried a hint of frail gravel. Had that always been there? Or was he choosing now not to hide it?

Dannel blinked. “Is that,” he took a step toward the chair the master gestured to, “Permitted?”

Lord Falthro snorted as he continued lounging on the plump burgundy couch, “I’m the lord here. Whatever I say is ‘permitted’. I have news and a question.” Gone was the gravel, replaced by forceful sincerity.

Arguing with his new master would be pointless, so Dannel sat on the edge of the chair, hands gripping each other. Perhaps it would be better to hear the news tonight. He kept his hands still, though he wanted desperately to wring them.

“The council of Elm Grove will be arriving tomorrow at my summons. They’ve been dragging their feet, but matters can finally proceed.”

Heart racing and ears pounding, Dannel swallowed a tirade. Instead, he kept silent and still.

“It would help if you were present at the interview. It will be extremely unpleasant for you, and I will not command you in this.” Lord Falthro lounged more deeply in the cushions of his couch. “But perhaps you would enjoy facing those who handed you over to me.”

“I would,” Dannel gripped the arms of the chair, “I would like that very much.”

Lord Falthro nodded. “Go. My servant will come for you when it is time. You will do exactly what she tells you.”

“Whatever it takes to bring them down.”

“As I thought. Sleep now. Tomorrow comes soon enough.”

Dannel bowed himself out and made his slow way back to the sleeping room.

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Not long before the town council arrived, Lord Falthro’s servant (Dannel needed to learn that woman’s name) retrieved him and gave the master’s instructions. Before she finished, he nearly turned and walked out. It took a deep breath and the thought of the council’s faces when confronted with his innocence to go through it.

Already coated in a sheen of sweat, Dannel knelt next to Lord Falthro as the town council arrived. He kept his eyes on the council members when they entered. It kept his mind off the crop the lord tapped lightly and repeatedly against his balls. As the elders made their bows, Lord Falthro gave a good hard whack with that crop. With a gasp against the gag, he folded over, agony robbing him of strength. The master hauled him upright by his hair.

“Why isn’t he dead!” The gravel baritone shout from one of the town elders reached through the pain and gave Dannel’s rage a focus. He turned his searing eyes on the elder, and whatever the elder there had him taking a half step back.

The crop stopped its rhythm. “Is it wise for a senile man to sit upon your council, good sirs? It appears your companion is so lost he has forgotten basic courtesy.” At Lord Falthro’s bland and silken amusement, the elders went pale or looked away.

Old Johas, wearing his usual salt-and-pepper ponytail, stepped forward. A friend of Dannel’s father, they locked eyes a moment, and he turned away. “I will ask your pardon for my fellow councilor, Lord Falthro. This matter is a painful one for all of us, and… the swift cut heals cleanest, my lord. Seeing… that one… re-opens all our wounds.”

Dannel’s whole body clenched. Not Johas. The old man would never condemn him, never believe him a murderer. His throat tightened, his teeth clenched, and… The crop smashed into his balls.

A sharp gasp left him choking on the gag. Blessed agony ripped up his body and freed him. The searing fire focused his mind, and he sent his silent thanks to the Master. He could not afford to break. Not here. Not now. The pain pulsing through him drowned out the conversation. Soon Lord Falthro would spring the truth on them, and he would never need to face them again.

Lord Falthro’s breath tickled his ear. “You thought that I would kill him? No, for what was done to the children of your town, death is far too quick and easy a punishment. You see how he suffers?” Another hard thwack. “Is it not beautiful? He will last for years, and endure more than you can imagine.”

Pops of light burst before Dannel’s eyes. Still, through the star-bursts, he saw a few of the elders nod. Johas closed his eyes and looked away.

“This, my friends,” Lord Falthro continued, “is a fitting punishment for anyone who would harm children as yours were harmed. Or anyone who would stand back and allow children to be harmed.

“It is late. You will spend the night here, and we will speak more in the morning.”

Dannel twitched, but another stroke from the crop kept him from turning on Lord Falthro. They had a deal!

“Of course, my lord,” that pretentious drawl could only be Glanter with a voice as greasy as his complexion, “But if you will, what shall become of – that one’s – property? We would wish to claim it for the town. As recompense, if you will.”

“Whatever my slave once owned is now mine. I will…consider your claim.”

The door closed behind the elders, and Lord Falthro put aside the crop. “You may collapse now.”

Dannel fell to his hands and knees, shivering. The lord ran a gentle hand over his head and back. “You did well, toy. You did very well.”

The echo of Lord Falthro’s steps sent a whimper up Dannel’s throat as the lord went to a sideboard and poured a cup of xocalt. Dannel counted the steps of his return, and the lord removed the gag and then helped him sit. The master wouldn’t let him pull away, though he tried. “Drink.” After a few sips, Dannel wrapped both hands around the warm mug and kept drinking one small swallow at a time.

“This once, I will permit you to berate me in any manner that pleases you, but first, you will listen.

“Because you were here, because they had to see with their own eyes how you suffered for their lie, I was able to learn things I would not have otherwise. Most of our guests looked at your suffering and felt only satisfaction.”

Dannel growled before taking another sip of xocalt.

“Hush. They do not matter. They believe they see justice and are content.” The lord continued in a smooth, soothing lilt, “But among them is at least one, possibly two, who looked on you suffering and felt fear.”

Cocking his head, Dannel fixed his attention on the fae as his shoulders slumped further. “Yes. It was no accident that brought you here. Someone among them deliberately abandoned two children to be tortured to death so that they could use me to kill you.” Lord Falthro sighed, “I fear it is too late to save the children now. The best to be done is prevent any more from suffering. Any more innocents from suffering.” Lord Falthro ran a hand over Dannel’s shoulder and back now that the trembling had subsided.

Eyes blinking rapidly, Dannel froze with the cup halfway to his lips. Lord Falthro’s bitter chuckle seemed to echo his silent horror. “You didn’t think of that, did you?”

Tears now flowed freely down Dannel’s face as he shook his head repeatedly. “No. I was so focused on my own…problems.”

Lord Falthro brushed the tears away.

Overwhelmed, Dannel allowed himself to lean into the fae’s touch.

Abruptly Lord Falthro released him and walked away.

Alone again, Dannel clenched his teeth against the pain.

“I will send my servant for you,” Lord Falthro said as he walked out of the room. “We will talk more later.”

Dannel grabbed the crop and threw it at the fae, but it only bounced off the door frame.

When the servant found him a few minutes later, he was methodically destroying the room.

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