Duels of Honour: Giving the Lie

Chapter the Third: Repercussions


Sleeping in strange rooms always left the Arbiter edgy. Fortunately, this suite in the officers’ quarters of the base smelled of Rtas; it was the only reason the Arbiter was able to fall into a deep, sound sleep.

That sleep was interrupted by the sound of the suite door opening. Reflexively, the Arbiter reached under his pillow and seized his sword hilt, tensing his body, preparing…

The lights illuminated overhead.

The Arbiter blinked and flushed as he recognized the Sangheili in the doorway. He looked down at the hilt in his hand in embarrassment and set it on the table beside him. “My apologies, Rtas.”

He was expecting Rtas to make a wry joke at his expense, or perhaps soothe his concerns that assassins could be found anywhere, even on Earth. But instead, Rtas simply nodded a greeting and proceeded to make his way to the far side of the bed, where he brusquely stripped his armour plates and crept into the bunk.

No words of greeting? No hug, not even a touch? The Arbiter weighed the appeal of the sight of Rtas in his bed with the fact that the other Sangheili had chosen to leave his jumpsuit on.

The Arbiter decided to do his level best to rectify that situation. He slipped beneath the covers and cuddled up behind Rtas. Wrapping his arm around the Admiral’s chest, he lapped gently at the nape of Rtas’ neck.

Rtas stiffened.

It wasn’t the reaction the Arbiter had been hoping for. Coaxingly, he let his hands caress Rtas’ chest, because he knew the other Sangheili liked that. The second he heard a purr, he’d sink his teeth into Rtas’ neck, then solve the jumpsuit problem and…

“I don’t feel like this tonight,” Rtas said.

The Arbiter drew back, bewildered and hurt. “We’ve hardly had a moment’s peace in the past two months. Now at last, we have a private room, a long, long way away from Sangheilos and its noble but incredibly demanding populace, and you do not feel like it?” Privately, this had been the true reason the Arbiter had been looking forward to his return to Earth; he’d been craving some private time with his mate. He’d thought Rtas would feel the same.

“I’m tired,” Rtas replied. “It was a long flight, and dealing with humans is wearisome.”

Apparently not.

The Arbiter sighed, feeling dejected. “Have you not missed me at all?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Rtas said quietly, “but I…I just don’t feel like it.”

Silence for a few moments, until Rtas felt compelled to justify himself. “I can’t change that.” His words rank through the stillness as the Arbiter struggled to come up with a reply.

He could not say it’s all right because it was not; nor would he debase himself to beg, or dare to order his mate, a hero in his own right, to please him.

The Arbiter was seized with a brief urge to sink his teeth into Rtas’ neck anyway, to trigger the reflex that made a Sangheili’s muscles go limp. With Rtas helpless before him, surely he could convince his mate that yes, Rtas did want this after all?

But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than a strong feeling of revulsion followed hard on its heels.

He, of all people, would not and could not force his mate in such a manner.

If Rtas said no, then the Arbiter had to respect it.

The Arbiter rolled onto his back and let out his breath. How had he even for a moment considered doing something like that? He felt his own desire vanishing, replaced by self-disgust.

He was a better person than that.

Wasn’t he?

The Sangheili once named Thel ‘Vadam wasn’t sure how long he stared up at the ceiling, wondering again whether he deserved the mantle of the Arbiter, the role of Dervish-King of the Sangheili, or the warrior by his side.

In his sleep, Rtas rolled over to face him. The Arbiter looked down at his mate and smiled sadly, running his hand over ‘Vadum’s cheek, listening to a soft purr escape his partner’s mouth.

Rtas’ jaws formed syllables: “Ku….so…”

The Arbiter froze.

Rtas nudged the Arbiter’s hand with his muzzle, his eyes sealed shut. “Kusovai?” The word was slurred with sleep but its tone was no less needy.

Not even the Mark of Punishment had hurt so much.

It took all of the Arbiter’s willpower to force his hand to continue to stroke his bondmate’s face. Rtas’ mandibles split into a smile on one side of his mouth; on the other side, his stumps went through the motions of parting jaws that were no longer there.

The Arbiter knew, as he comforted his sleeping mate, that there was something terribly wrong between them.

And he had no idea how to make it better.

*

Even as Usze ‘Taham shut the door behind N’tho and locked it, he realized that he’d never felt less like being alone with his mate.

He’d thought he’d be happy to see Nitro after their two days apart. Nitro certainly had seemed glad to see him, bolting off the Phantom and sweeping him up into a hug.

But a strange comment from Rtas ‘Vadum had dredged up the smouldering embers of Usze’s fears and fanned them into a raging inferno.
Usze had let Nitro down in the past. Nitro had wound up in the arms of current SpecOps Commander Vaa ‘Moiril, followed by a return to his bad old habits of sleeping with anyone who paid him any attention. Yes, it had been partly Usze’s fault for abandoning him, but that fact didn’t change N’tho’s predispositions.

Living on Earth with no other Sangheili save N’tho’s father, his mate, and their daughters had eliminated N’tho’s temptations for six blissful months. But Usze had been hard pressed to hold his tongue when the Arbiter had announced his intent to visit Earth, and N’tho had volunteered to go to Africa to greet him. Usze had worried about leaving N’tho alone with a whole ship full of other Sangheili—but he knew that a relationship had to be built on trust. He had to have faith that N’tho would not cheat on him the second his back was turned.

That faith had proven hard to find.

Usze was crippled and broken and getting fat. He was all rank and mouth now, with none of the lethal grace he’d once possessed to back up his imperious demands. N’tho, on the other hand, was an ascending star, and one look at him showed that the blood of Kaidons ran in his veins. A parting of the ways was sure to be inevitable.

Usze’s eyes fell on the purple doarmir-fur cloak that lay across their bed. The cloak had been N’tho’s gift to him.
Ras had insinuated that it had belonged to the Arbiter.

He’d never looked for the maker’s embroidery mark. Perhaps he should…

But N’tho stood between him and the cloak.

N’tho was wasting no time in removing first his armour, then his jumpsuit. Usze stood frozen to the spot, not knowing how to begin to explain why his desire for his mate had vanished.

Surely it was evident that N’tho could do better now—and probably had.

N’tho tilted his head. “Why are you wearing that helmet, Usze?” he whispered.

The helmet. Usze had almost forgotten that he’d traded in his open-faced combat helmet for his old standard, the closed assault helmet. How could he explain that he didn’t want Rtas to see…

He couldn’t. He simply removed it and stared helplessly at N’tho.

Nitro nodded as Usze set the helmet on the table near the door. Then, ‘Sraom turned around and folded himself onto his knees, leaning forward over the bed, giving Usze a very nice rear view…

Usze didn’t admire the view for long, though. Nitro was making a needy little noise in the back of his throat, a cross between a lonely whine and a desperate panting, over and over… And Usze felt a strange sensation welling up from the wound where his jealousy and paranoia had torn a hole in his heart.

“Nitro…I….”

N’tho’s next words cut him off. “You can smell much better without it, sir.”

“Smell…?”

N’tho’s long neck bent so he was peering up at Usze.

“I know what you were doing, sir.”

Usze’s gut clenched. He considered denying it.

“And without my clothing, you’ll be able to tell for certain if anyone else’s scent is on me,” N’tho continued quietly.

‘Sraom didn’t seem angry. He didn’t seem hurt, either. Usze would have preferred any mix of those two emotions if it would only get rid of that look in N’tho’s eyes.

“Nitro…I….”

“Smell me,” N’tho said firmly. He bowed his head again. “Sir.”

Usze limped forward and rested his hands on N’tho’s shoulders. He didn’t know what else to do. Wanting to weep, Usze lowered his muzzle to N’tho’s hide and took a deep breath. He smelled nothing but the thick, warm musk of his husband.

“Why are you calling me sir?” Usze whispered in N’tho’s earbud. He felt terrified, as though some new horror was about to assault them both. The idea that N’tho might be associating him with some of those warriors who had used and abused him in the past sickened him.

“Some guys get off on it.”

Usze shook his head. “I’m not one of them.”

N’tho closed his eyes, ashamed. “I am.”

Usze stared at his husband, not comprehending. He tried to get down on his knees to look at Nitro face-to-face, but his lame leg was stiff and he ended up half-sitting, half-falling onto his left thigh.

N’tho’s eyes flew open and the noises in his throat stopped. “Usze? Are you okay?”

Usze leaned back against the bed, clenching his mandibles, trying not to let any of the curses in his thoughts make their way into words. He succeeded, but he could not keep the moisture from his eyes.

“Usze? Sir?” N’tho’s eyes were wide with impending panic. He lapped urgently at Usze’s wet cheeks. “Uzi!”
“I’m useless,” Usze spat.

“I need you,” N’tho whispered. His urgent little sounds turned to a sad, slow whine that sounded like air deflating from a Huragok’s flotation bladder. “Help me.”

Usze still hated being lame and fat and ugly, but he had to—had to—start thinking of his marriage and not just himself. He put his arms around Nitro. N’tho didn’t seem to notice that he could do better for himself. He nuzzled right up to Usze and held on tight.

And Usze owed his mate an apology.

“I’m so sorry,” Usze whispered. “That wasn’t fair of me, to test you like that.”

N’tho shrugged. “I have a bad reputation. I can’t say anything to make it go away. All I can do is keep proving to you that you’re the only one I want. And if you need to…” he swallowed hard, betraying at least some hurt behind his brave words “…you can smell me all over all you like, whenever you like. There’s nothing to find. There’s never….” His voice broke. “…never going to be anything for you to find. Because there’s nobody but you for me. There’s been nobody but you since your bracelet closed on my wrist.” His hand gripped the bonding bracelet tightly. “Uzi….please. Put your teeth in my neck and tell me I still belong to you.”

Usze sighed. “Do I have any right to do that?” He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the aggressive nature of that idea.

“I want it,” N’tho said, closing his eyes, laying his head on Usze’s chest.

Usze felt suddenly, horribly conflicted. N’tho’s words rang with honest candour. And the whole time he’d been fighting with N’tho during the Halo mission, he’d never seen any sign of the Arbiter showing interest in N’tho…or vice versa.

A sudden remembrance hit him like a lightning strike.

By the Rings, what had Usze said back then? Had he not told Nitro to stop pestering him with his affections, to go chase the Arbiter instead? N’tho had answered something to the effect of informing him that the Arbiter had eyes only for Rtas, and N’tho had no desire to get in the middle of that.

Nitro stirred, whimpering.

Usze took a deep breath, relented, nipped Nitro’s neck. Nitro nuzzled against him, beginning to purr.

“I feel the need to justify myself,” ‘Taham said as he stroked his mate.

N’tho cuddled closer and opened his eyes.

Usze took a deep breath. “Admiral ‘Vadum said some things to me that I found upsetting.”

“Rtas?” N’tho appeared confused.

“Something about that cloak of yours.”

Nitro tensed in Usze’s arms, and Usze felt sick all over again.

“Nitro. Did you…”

Usze’s mouth felt as though it had been filled with sawdust. His mandibles churned as he struggled to form the words.

“You…and the Arbiter…did you…”

“He wasn’t the Arbiter.” N’tho swallowed. “Not yet.”

Usze’s eyes widened as he struggled to take this in.

Not yet. That meant history…something that pre-dated Usze and N’tho’s relationship, pre-dated even their first meeting. Something that was over and done with.

But by the Ancestors’ holy honour, the Arbiter.

How could Usze possibly compare to…

And then another thought struck him.

Even as the Blademaster, he doubted he’d have been the Arbiter’s equal in a fair fight. He thought he could have beaten the Arbiter—maybe—if he’d had the element of surprise, or attacked when the Arbiter was wearied from prior battles. Now, as a cripple, he had no chance in such a combat. He had no doubt what the outcome would be.

And yet, if the Arbiter had hurt N’tho, Usze saw himself with no other choice.

“What did he do to you?” Usze hissed.

N’tho looked uncomfortable. “Uzi, do you really want to hear about this?”

No, Usze didn’t want to hear about this. He didn’t want to hear it at all. He wanted to close his ears and his eyes and pretend that he’d been the only mate that N’tho had ever really wanted to be with.

But want and need were two different things.

“I need to know the truth.” Need, because if Rtas was going to try to make N’tho pay for a past mistake, Usze needed to know how to counter the Admiral. For that he needed an accurate understanding of the facts that had led them all to this point; whether he enjoyed learning those facts was irrelevant. He would protect his mate at any cost.

N’tho sighed, looking dubious. “You ain’t gonna like this.”

Usze swallowed hard, and took N’tho’s hand. “We have to deal with Rtas and the Arbiter for the next week. I need to know what I’m up against.”

“It was my act, not yours.”

“And you are my mate, and so we will have no more debate on this matter. I will defend you and you will assist me.”

N’tho nodded, acquiescing. “Can we get up off the floor, though? Sit at the table, or something?”

“The table?” Usze was surprised. “Not the bed?”

“You want to be in bed with someone who’s telling you all about being with another guy?”

“Do you want my teeth in your neck or not?”

Usze said it purely out of selfishness. He knew he would need the reassurance he could get from dominating N’tho. What surprised him was how much N’tho seemed to want to be dominated. The words had him in the bed in a flash, peering up at Usze hopefully.

Usze took a deep breath and climbed in beside his mate, maneuvering himself so that N’tho’s back was against his chest.

He licked the nape of Nitro’s neck and listened to his partner moan. Ever so lightly, he let his teeth scrape N’tho’s hide.

“Yes,” his mate whispered. “Please.”

“Mine,” Usze said, and bit down.

Usze had to admit that some black little corner of his heart liked the power rush he received from sinking his teeth into Nitro’s nape. He knew he’d bit hard enough to trigger the muscle-relaxing reflex common to all Sangheili. Nitro’s limbs would be sluggish and numb now, leaving Nitro helpless in Usze’s grip. In the dark ages before the Prophets, the bite had been a way for rulers and leaders to underline their power over their subordinates; after the coming of the San ‘Shyuum, the bite became a taboo used only between lovers. To be the one delivering the bite made Usze both mate and master.

Usze could not understand why N’tho moaned as if in ecstasy, or why ‘Sraom accepted this sort of subjugation. He was not certain if he wanted to understand the dark satisfaction he got from mastering N’tho this way.

“Tell me,” Usze murmured in N’tho’s earbud as he settled himself on the pillows, tugged N’tho onto his chest, and pulled a blanket up over them both..

“Last chance to change your mind…” N’tho was panting a little. “And you know I don’t usually do this…talk about who I’ve been with, I mean. I learned pretty early that the last thing a guy wants to hear is all the details about the other people his mate’s had sex with. And, you know, naming names gets people in trouble.” N’tho fidgeted. “So I don’t ever talk about…y’know…who, exactly, I’ve all been with.” He lay his head against Usze’s shoulder. “Except for you,” he said, closing his eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Swear you belong to me.

But N’tho had already done that, ‘Taham realized. It was Uzi who could not muster enough faith to believe it.

Usze ran his hand down N’tho’s cheek. “Just this one, Nitro. Just these one set of details, this one time.”

N’tho took a deep breath.

And told him.