DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of 100% FICTION and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between 2 consenting teenage boys. This story is based 100% off of my IMAGINATION and does NOT reflect the views of the celebrities mentioned. If this type of content offends you or if it is illegal for you to read this type of material, please don't.
Enjoy.
What Happened to the Green Fairies? By Danimpa
Chapter 32
Earldom of Cornwall, England May/June, 1398
The assistance from Scotland arrived the next day and I was brought out of bed to instruct them.
A hundred men, enough to tip the balance a bit.
I was to lead them rather than Matt for several reasons. For one, he wasn't blood related to their earl, wasn't a member of the Ross clan the way I was. For two, most of them didn't know English and Matt didn't speak a word of Gaelic.
I'd been raised to comply with Scottish people and traditions as well as English because my uncle, Mother's only brother, had been born sickly and the possibility of my having to inherit Ross as well as Cornwall had always been there.
I even knew how to play the bagpipe, simply because my parents thought it would be a nice way of showing the Scots that I was 'one of them'. I wasn't complaining, though, I liked playing although I did prefer the mandolin.
Their arrival went well, though, and I had a short briefing with Matt and the Celtic captain, getting their soldiers integrated in our defence.
I had a constant lump in my throat, though, the constant fear of what would happen when Father returned and realised all the things that had happened. Most of all, more than any scolding or insulting he could present me with, I was scared for Brendon, warily and too easily remembering the threat that had been about the last words I'd heard from my father before leaving for my sister's wedding.
The sister I'd killed and the wedding I'd ruined.
'Someone's head is going to roll'
The mere thought of those words was enough to make me shudder.
On the day Father was meant to return, things were looking up for us, battle-wise.
The enemy had fallen back to regroup and adjust to our reinforcements, giving us time to rest and lick our wounds, so to say.
I couldn't allow myself relief over that thought, though, not with the threat of Father's return hanging over my head.
What I hadn't been prepared for, though, was the sight of him returning on a stretcher. Nor the fine-looking chariot that was there with our men as well.
Upon hearing the news of the arrival, I asked Brendon to stay in my chambers, not wishing to provoke my father with his presence.
Matt was the one who carried me into the great hall and got me situated in a chair while our father, equally injured, was taken inside.
Mother was there within minutes, rushing to his side to start gushing and pampering him.
"George," Father started, his gaze hard. "We need to have a long talk. I want to see you in my study in two hours."
I was about to leave when I saw someone else enter the great hall and I felt my breath hitch in my throat and was suddenly rooted to the spot.
Jacqueline.
"Please take me to my quarters," I muttered to Matt who got me into a standing position and supported my walking out of the hall, strong arm draped across my back.
Luckily she didn't even try to catch up with us.
It was with much apprehension that I entered Father's study two hours later, somehow, though, managing the walk on my own. I raised a hand and knocked on the door, almost immediately receiving an order to enter.
And so I did, walking, or more of stumbling actually, across the floor until I reached the chair in front of him. I sat down heavily, biting down on my lower lip while I waited for him to say something.
"George," he greeted.
"Father," I returned with a small bend of my head.
He raised his head from the pillows that were put on his chair, propping him up. "You are without doubt the biggest failure of my life," he stated. "But I must admit I'm grateful you're still alive."
Of course he was. It was still all about the blood.
"I would appreciate an explanation, though," he stated, his voice still surprisingly low and calm.
I sighed. "Frederick crossed some boundaries. I probably over-reacted in challenging him for that duel, but once I had I obviously couldn't back out." I took a deep breath. "Matt broke the rules and saved my life. Starting a feud." I looked down. "And Eleanor died by her own hand three days ago."
He sat still and silent for a while, face hard, cold and motionless as a stone. Finally he spoke, "Know that I'm very disappointed in you, boy." His eyes narrowed a bit. "And there are many things about this matter I would discuss with you, but there are more pressing matters to attend to at the moment."
I raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Such as the defence. What are the Celts doing here?"
"Grandfather sent them to help us out. If he hadn't, Cornwall would've fallen yesterday. And don't worry about them, they follow my commands."
He huffed slightly. "Perhaps that is what's worrying me."
I refrained from rolling my eyes, resorted to clenching my good hand. Hard enough, actually, that my nails dug in and punctured the skin.
"Enough about that," he replied. "As long as you follow my commands and they follow yours it'll be fine."
I nodded, unclenching my hand a bit, moving it up, instead, to pick at the knob of my sling.
"Now, to an entirely other issue," he started.
Dread gathered in the pit of my stomach and I had a feeling I knew what was coming next.
"I realise that your wedding wasn't supposed to happen before your twentieth birthday, but as you can see I'm not as well as I was before my departure."
I nodded, gulping, wishing that he'd just get down to business.
"I need to know that you have an heir before I die," he told me. "You will marry your betrothed in ten days."
I felt the blood drain from my face, dropping to my feet and making me light-headed.
How could I marry her after all that had happened? How could I marry her after her unwanted seduction? Or with the depth my feelings for Brendon had reached?
But I had no choice. I was born without it.
"I..." I started, swallowing a lump in my throat. "Can't Matt marry her?" I suddenly suggested, reaching for straws now. "It would still be your blood, it would still be this direct line. I'd take their sons in as my own, raise them to inherit Cornwall and Ross."
Father sighed, looking old and tired all of a sudden and for a moment I was stuck between the hate I'd held for him the last many years and a love I remembered from when I was a small boy. "So you can have a 'happily ever after' with the valet you're hiding in your chambers?"
I looked off to the side, hiding embarrassment and surprise.
There had been no name calling to either one of us, only a bitter, rhetorical question.
Father seemed to be losing his edge, a fact I was grateful for.
"George," he addressed me again, calling me something other than 'boy' for the first time in years.
My head snapped back, facing him again.
"You and I were born with privileges, with a responsibility. The price for being something is to live up to the responsibilities, put ourselves second to the bloodline and give up on some of our freedom for it." He sighed, suddenly seeming all too weary again. "If I had had the choice, George, I would've married Matthew's mother instead of yours, but we must all make sacrifices. Love is a thing for commoners."
I bent my head, inwardly cursing the way of life. Why wasn't I born a commoner?
"Yours, you know, would've been impossible even for a commoner," he added. "If I wasn't holding my hand over you, the church could burn you at the stake."
I didn't know if he was saying it to be a bit mean again or if he was simply telling me.
It was the truth, though, the truth that even if my father never loved me and I'd grown up hating him, he had protected me.
Perhaps I did owe him something. Perhaps I owed it to him to accept the duty that came with my blood and make the same sacrifice he had.
But how could I?
"You need to send him away," Father informed me. "Before you offend Lady Jacqueline and the whole of Upper Lorraine, before I'm not around to hold my hand over you."
I gulped. That I couldn't do. I shook my head, looking up and meeting his deep blue eyes. "I can't," I whispered. "I don't even know if I can marry Jacqueline."
"You have no choice," he told me, hard edge to his voice again. "Nothing is more important than your blood, boy. You will wed her, you will bed her and you will beget an heir on her. Do not defy me on this."
I bit my lip, my nails digging into my palm again. "Then he is staying," I muttered, hearing the edge crawl into my own voice as well.
"You will keep it hidden," Father demanded. "Don't ever touch him unless behind closed doors. Let your betrothed think she means the world to you." He paused. "Or I'm letting the church have him."
"George!" someone called out from the hallway behind me.
I whipped around, putting a fake smile on my face at the recognition of the annoyingly high-pitched voice and the French pronunciation of my name. "Jacqueline," I returned, awkwardly reaching my left hand out to grab onto hers, bending down to politely kiss her hand while I pushed the initial, growing, disgust to the back of my mind, let it linger there as I stood up fully again.
"Your pere said you were malade," she informed me.
"I am," I answered truthfully.
"I was worried," she added.
I mentally rolled my eyes, suddenly feeling a confused expression on my face as her petite arm wrapped around my waist.
"Let moi assist you to ze chambers," she replied.
I let her, not really responding to her small talk on the way there. I wanted her touch far away from me, but a deal was a deal and I couldn't let the church get my lover. I politely told her, though, at my door that I needed rest and would see her later.
To my surprise she accepted and left with a giggle and a wave, swinging her girly hips a bit too much for my liking.
Brendon took me in his arms the moment I was inside, quickly pressing a kiss against my cheek. "Are you alright?"
I sent him a small, uncertain smile. "Believe me or not, but today he was actually only half-bad compared to what I've seen earlier."
He smiled back, leaning in to kiss my lips this time, his hands resting on my waist and holding me close.
I would have to tell him about the changed wedding date, but at the moment I couldn't bring myself to it.