A Lesson in Obedience (PG-17)

Writers: Len, Miriah
Date Posted: 13th January 2015

Characters: L'fael, Yarmel, Kestren
Description: Yarmel gets caught abusing a drudge
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 9, day 15 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Bryvin, Yriadha, Humari; PG-17 for violence and implied assault
Rating: PG-17

It was so late! Lafael sighed and glanced out the window. The glance
became a lingering look as he began to count the stars that were out
on the clear night. It seemed like the last sevenday had been nothing
but rain, blotting out all the stars in the sky.

But not tonight.

It was as clear out as it could be, with Pern's two moons in their
waning phase. Lafael leaned out of the window, forgetting how tired he
was or how long he had worked today.

All that mattered was the beauty of the night.

"Hey!" A rough voice cut through the clear night air. "Get to work.
You're supposed to be gathering the rest of this wood for the
Headwoman." Yarmel stepped into the small room, a dark scowl twisting
what appeared to be deep scratch marks over his face.

"W-was I?" Lafael couldn't remember just what he was supposed to be
doing. The Headwoman_had_said something, but really, the night was so
lovely and the stars were so bright that whatever he had been sent out
to do was completely forgotten.

But this man...

This man was horrid. He was menacing looking, with scratches on his
face that made him look like a proper criminal. His hair was
dark...but that was the only thing that was attractive about him. The
look in his eyes was murderous and the scowl on his face...Lafael
quailed under that scowl.

Quickly he dropped his eyes, too afraid to look at the man anymore.
Stammering in his fear, he managed to get out, "S-sir, I'm s-sorry,
I'll be done here now."

Still angry over the incident with his sister and the fact that his
wife had dared question him about his face (she had quickly been
taught a hard lesson in obedience), Lafael's scared reaction was a bit
of a balm to his soul. He was a guard. The drudges should fear and
respect him. "You're not even close to being done. This should have
been done candlemarks ago and you were sitting about, mooning at the
window." He raised a hand, eager to mete out more justice.

"Y-yes sir, I'm really sorry, sir." Lafael flinched, knowing what was
coming to him. That fist wasn't raised to fan the man off, after all.
He had seen the end of many a man's fist since coming to this horrible
place.

The blow was a quick but brutal blow to the cheek, then another, just
for spite. Rejoicing in the boy's fear, Yarmel dragged him upwards by
the collar and shook him. "Do you know what happens to little drudges
that slack off on their work, boy?"

"N-no--!" All of Lafael's earlier happiness was washed away, faster
than a flit could fly. He squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe the man would
go away, maybe this horrid horrid place would just go away. He let his
mind go to that place where no one could touch him, to where those
secret voices sometimes talked to him and him alone. In that place the
two blows to his face--ones hard enough that he knew he would be badly
bruised--couldn't hurt. Nothing there could hurt.

His rage consumed him. Everything that had happened in the past month
caught up with Yarmel and he was more than willing to take it out on
this boy who could not escape and could not fight. He dragged the boy
over to the table and shoved him face down. "You'll listen from now
on, won't you?"

But Lafael didn't. He didn't listen, he didn't react.

Worst of all, he didn't answer.

Like a rag he lay under the man's hand and on the table. His body may
have been in that room, on that rough table, but his mind was far far
away. It was flying as high as a dragon could. What were dragons like,
Lafael found himself wondering. He had never seen one. Were they mean,
like this man? No, they couldn't be. He bet they were as beautiful as
the flits that were plentiful around the Hold. There was a Lady who
even had a gold. He sighed, as his mind thought about the way the sun
shown through those golden wings, and as his body suffered under Yarmel's
abuse.

The lack of response infuriated Yarmel. The boy just laid there,
taking it. He didn't even make a sound and Yarmel needed him to
scream. Panting in frustration and perverse irritation, he fell back
on the one thing that always made them scream. He yanked the boy's
pants down hurriedly.

***

Kestren sighed as he slowly went about his duty. A glance out the
window told him his shift was almost done. The night shift was so
boring, nothing fun ever happened. There were no cute girls to tease
and flirt with, no games of dragonpoker going on. And worse of all, he
had to share this shift with that no good Headwoman's son, Yarmel.
Even the man's name was annoying. Worse of all, that bastard was
always sneaking off, never doing his work.

Like now.

It took a few moments before Kestren realized that wherry of a
man_had_once again skivvied off. Kestren could feel the heat rising on
his face as he turned an unattractive shade of red. That man, that
annoying arse of a man, where had he gone now?

**Probably off to beat on his poor sister some more.** That thought
alone made Kestren even more angry. No matter what many of the men
were like here at this Hold, you_never_hit a woman. Or anyone weaker
than yourself. It was not honorable, and he was a guard. It was his
duty to protect the ones who couldn't protect themselves.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he set off to begin another set
of rounds when he heard a noise. And then more noises rapid in succession.

And the unmistakable sound of Yarmel's voice.

And then the most terrible sound of all, that of a body being thrown
to a hard surface.

Kestren didn't think, there was no time for it. He merely reacted, the
way his father had raised him to react. That body, it had to be some
poor girl caught out by Yarmel. Kestren ran as fast as he could, his
belt knife drawn. Ahead was a closed door. He slammed his body against
it, causing the door to fly open.

What greeted his eyes was not a girl about to be raped. Yarmel was
there, leering over the figure, his own pants drawn down. But the
figure under him--the figure Kestren would later realize that he had
saved from a terrible fate--that figure was a boy.

"WHAT THE BLOODY SHARDS ARE YE DOING?" In one fluid motion, Kestren
had grabbed Yareml off the boy and held the knife up to the man's
throat. "What're you doing, you perverted bastard? Itching to join the
Weyr and practice their ways, are ye?" He pinned Yarmel to the table
with the point of his knife, not in anyway afraid of a man he easily
outsized and outweighed. With his free hand, he grabbed at the boy,
who seemed to be in shock by the way he remained laying there. "Get
up, you silly fool! Get up and get the bloody shards outta here, you
hear me?" Better to be rough, if only to scare the child into fleeing.

Lafael didn't need any more encouragement. Grabbing his trousers, he
quickly pulled them back into place. Now that he knew he wasn't going
to be raped he was crying, nervous and scared in his relief. The man
didn't need to tell him again, without a backwards glance he fled as
fast as his feet could carry him, deep into the night.

Snarling, Yarmel shoved the knife away and rose, hauling up his pants.
He shoved at his fellow guard's shoulders as Lafael ran. "Get off of
me, you fecking prick!"

The boy gone, Kestren snorted. "I could say_exactly_the same thing
about you. I wonder if Bryvin knows one of his guards is into raping
boys?"

"Bryvin cares not about what I do as long as I keep order." Yarmel
snapped. "The boy was lazy and I was teaching him a lesson." Yarmel
pushed him aside as he made his way out of the room.

Kestren let him go without a fight. The boy--if he had any sense at
all--would be far away from Yarmel by now. He sighed heavily and not
for the first time thought about taking his young wife and two little
boys far far away from this place.

Last updated on the January 20th 2015

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A Lesson in Obedience (PG-17)