Season content notes: torture, nonsexual dubcon
Released from his torment, Dannel struggled to control himself. But the pain, even now that the torture was done, continued to echo through him. His body felt like it was trying to shake itself apart. All he could do was curl up in the chair Lord Falthro had just put him in and wrap his arms around himself. After the endless time kneeling with what felt like sharp stones digging into his knees, the warmth and soft cushions were a shock.
Dannel felt tears running down his cheeks again and wiped them away. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He felt tiny pieces of grit still stuck on his knees, digging into the skin. Whining, he tried to examine them. There was no blood, though the skin of his knees felt raw, like they had been scrubbed with sandpaper. In spite of the pain it caused, he tried to wipe and scrub the bits of grit away, desperate to be free of the remnants of his torment.
Gentle hands draped a towel around his shoulders and pressed a mug of water into his hands. “There now. It’s alright. You’ll be down soon,” Falthro’s servant said.
Her voice grated on his ears, and he growled at her, his mind not clear enough to find words. When had she come in, anyway? She retreated to a corner of the room and waited.
Slowly, the shaking stopped. Dannel drank the water in small sips, surprised at how good it tasted. He had to clear his throat a few times before he could speak.
“Thank you.”
“It’s a simple enough thing. Are you settled now?” This time, the gentle voice soothed rather than grated.
He straightened in the padded chair and stretched each leg carefully in turn. They moved well enough now. “I think so.”
“You’ll be wanting something to eat soon,” the young woman said. The depth of feeling in her brown eyes belied the youth of her soft face. “If you go to the kitchen Cook will have a snack for you. Or I can fetch it.”
“I’m not hungry.” Dannel tested his legs as he spoke. They took his weight more readily, though he still shook, barely.
She snorted. “Five hundred years, people here have been tending the master and his needs. Your body needs food to recover.”
He shrugged and sank further into the black padding of the chair. “What do you care?”
“Daft man.” She shook her head and sighed. “First, it’s my job to care. The master sent me to tend you, after all. Second…” Crossing the room slowly, as if he might startle, she crouched next to the chair to meet his eyes. “There’s a reason the master sent me and not someone else. He needs me right now too, you know. But he’s had his eye on you, and he knows there’s no one else in the manor who will give you the care you need.”
“What makes you so different?”
“I know the truth.”
Dannel’s jaw went slack, and he met her gaze with his confusion and shock.
“I’m the master’s personal servant, fool. I was standing right there when he asked you to choose your punishment. Heard the whole thing.”
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Rage bled his vision.
The young woman slapped him. “Don’t you be grabbing me.” When had he clenched his hands around her shoulders? She grabbed his shoulders and shook him back to himself. “Listen to me. Listen to me now. You want to hurt someone? You want to hit something?” She pulled him out of the chair and propelled him across the room. A man-shaped figure made of leather and stuffed with hay was propped in the corner. “There,” she said, dropping his arms, “there’s your target.”
“Why?” Dannel collapsed in the corner several minutes later. Hay and leather scraps littered half the room after his rage settled.
“Which why would that be?” The young servant woman crouched next to the chair, far enough from the scattered bits that her purple-trimmed green dress and bolero were still clean.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone I’m innocent?” Exhausted after everything, he couldn’t muster the fury he longed to express.
“It’s not mine to tell now, is it? I keep my silence on the master’s business. It’s none of theirs, and none of yours unless he chooses to make it so.”
Darrel growled. “Is that to be part of my ‘punishment’ too, then?”
“If you’ll not talk sense, I have other things to be doing.” She stood and smoothed her skirts.
He waved vaguely around the room, taking in the rest of the manor, “Them, everyone, spending the rest of my life as a pariah for something I…”
“Nah, the master doesn’t think of how humans react to the things he does. He won’t have realized yet that the housekeeper and them are being so harsh because they’ve heard the story your council tells. The master treats us well, mind, but we’re, well, we’re not people to him.” She shook her head. “Except for you.”
Dannel swallowed the scream that built into his chest. “I don’t understand.”
“Obviously.” She sighed. “Let it go for now. As far as our folk go, I’d have…suggested the master make things clear to housekeeper myself if I hadn’t thought better of it.”
“And just what made you think better of it?” He scowled, arms crossed over his chest.
“Gossip. We’re not cut off here, you know.” He shook his head, confused. She clucked her tongue as if chiding a dull child, “You and the Master are planning a trap. Wouldn’t it be better if there were no rumors to warn your enemies?”
“You really think…”
“I think better safe than sorry. And if you’re done feeling sorry for yourself, get down to the kitchen and get yourself a snack. Housekeeper wants the chamberpots scrubbed out afore dinner.”
With a shake of his head, he started pulling his clothes back on. “That’s the second time in three days.”
“Aye, and they get dirty every day!”
As she left the room, he asked, “Why do you say he sees me as a person?”
“Because,” her youth vanished, replaced by the lines of an ancient, “he knows your name.”
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