Sans Raiment

Sans Raiment 7

Spring had begun to creep into Kirlsa, making the air a soft, warm breath when blowing against the skin. The thin blanket of snow had been gone for days and the first green buds of life were sprouting from the earth and branches. The seasonal melancholy that had settled on people was beginning to thaw. It made Albel sick. It had been well over a month since he had last seen Cliff, two weeks since a letter, and the absence was driving him mad. Knowing that he was being driven mad also drove him mad.

The time apart did give the young man a chance to reflect, which, he admitted, he desperately needed to do. But there was a proper way to do it. Albel submitted a request for a formal fortnights leave so he could shut himself away in what once was his shared apartment with the late duke. When he received the request, Arzei had given the captain a strange look, then approved.

Albel left without a word. He left a fleeting note for Woltar, revealing only minimal information, and took his small bag of clothes and left for the capital city.

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The apartment was just as Albel remembered, if not a bit smaller. It looked like no one had been in the rooms since Vox had shut them up after their ‘relationship’ had been broken off. Perhaps it was best that way. The ghosts of the past were still lingering in the rooms and he needed to confront them.

It took all evening to remove all the sheets from the furniture and air out the apartment. When he was done, Albel looked around with pride. Even if there were terrible memories attached to it, the place had once been like a second home to him. It was a strangely warm, yet irritating memory, how he came to possess the quarters. Months into their relationship, when his mind had been warped beyond recognition by Vox’s deceit, the man had summoned Albel from Kirlsa for a ‘surprise’.

Vox had walked with him, arm snug around his waist as he guided the young captain to the private housing sector by the castle. Glou had lived there for a time, but once his son had been born, he thought it best to rent a small house in Kirlsa; a safer place to raise a child. The only time Albel had been to the reserved quarters was when Woltar had been staying there after a debilitating injury. His curiosity had been raised when the duke took him there.

“Why are we here?” He had asked, turning his eyes towards the man.

Vox grinned and patted his side. “I have a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

The man did not answer immediately. They walked up a flight of stairs to a quiet hallway. Albel looked around, but was pushed towards the end of the hall. They stopped in front of a large oak door, its frame decorated with intricate carvings of woodland creatures and flying beasts.

“What’s in here?” The young captain asked, running his claws over the wood.

“Open the door and see for yourself.”

Albel did as he was told. At first, he had been confused by the opulent rooms, but Vox ushered him inside and told him to explore. He had begun to investigate, riffling through the rooms with boyhood glee. He had assumed he was meant to find something, but nothing of great interest was to be found. Eventually, he retreated to the duke’s side, confused again.

“I didn’t find anything.”

Vox tilted his head slightly. “You were looking for something?”

“Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“I never said such a thing.”

The young man had furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand.”

The man had chuckled, a deep, pleasant sound. Vox had a soothing voice when he wasn’t screaming or hissing in anger. He took Albel by the shoulder and guided him through the rooms, ending in the bedroom. Dread had started to rise in the boy’s belly.

“Do you like the rooms?” Vox asked, releasing Albel and going over to a sturdy desk.

“They’re attractive.”

“Just attractive? Is that all you think?”

“I think whoever lives here is fortunate.”

Vox turned back to him and grinned predatorily. “I’m glad you think that. Now for the surprise.”

Albel held his breath, expecting the worst.

“These rooms are yours now. I have rented them for you so that you may be close to me.”

That had been the beginning of a long and terrible time in Albel’s life. At the time, he had thought it a great gift and he had shown the duke great appreciation in return. It was disgusting, looking back upon it now, how manipulated he had been. Albel had no explanation for what had happened, other than he had been young and his mind had been malleable and the duke saw that and took advantage of it.

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Exhaustion after all the cleaning allowed Albel to rest well the first night, but his peace did not last long. While eating dinner the next night, a number of unhappy memories rose unbidden in Albel’s mind. He tried to ignore them, thinking instead of the man who currently had his mind warped with emotions. Thinking of Cliff always confused the young man. It was a strange story, how they went from despising one another to where they were at the moment, trying to work out a stable, permanent relationship. If someone had told him he would fall in love with a former Airyglyph prisoner and an alien, Albel would have laughed heartily and then ripped the person’s heart out of their chest. But things had happened just like that. Once he was able to move past the fact that the Klausian had defeated him in battle, an unfair battle he maintained, and realized that they were allies, dealing with the ox had become much easier.

Perhaps it had been the absence of the captains’ haughty attitude, but once Albel stopped seeing his traveling partners as hindrances and former enemies, Cliff began to notice how good of a fighter and noble a person Albel was.

The drinking glass paused halfway to the young man’s lips as he thought. He had not thought of when CLIFF had begun to see him as more than an annoyance. For certain, the change had taken place prior to the near-fatal shot he had endured at the Training Facility, but it could not have been much earlier than that. Regardless, as they were traveling through the fourth dimension the man had started looking at him differently. More often than not, they were brushing against one another in battle. Then there was the fateful night when they first kissed, and that had opened up a door to where they were at the moment.

Albel put his glass back onto the table. Cliff had noticed, when Albel allowed him to, the good qualities the Elicoorian had. No partner he had before had ever done that. The few bedmates he had taken were only interested in bragging rights; being able to say they had slept with the infamous Albel the Wicked was worth its weight in gold as gossip. People would pay to hear what the young captain was like in bed; of course, when the stories reached Albel’s ears they were twisted exaggerations that held little truth to them. The duke had not bedded him purely for bragging purposes, but Vox also took something from their relationship. He cared not whether Albel was a notoriously good fighter or one of few men whose vision of a good future was not tainted by the war. All Vox cared about was that he had a young, impressionable lover who he could show off to his fellow nobles as a conquest.

But not Cliff. It felt, to Albel, that Cliff was the first person to look past his persona and attempt to see him for who he truly was. It had infuriated him at first, but when he dwelled on it, the young man realized if he was to commit himself to a mate, he wanted the man to see and accept him for what he truly was, not some deranged public image that people craved.

It was easy to tell that Albel more than liked Cliff. It was hard to admit, but it was easy to see. He would not be secretly pining for the man, wanting his company, if he only thought the man tolerable.

Letting out a soft sound of distress, Albel buried his head in his hands and rubbed his palms against his eyes. He thanked whatever god there was that he was alone while he brooded over these embarrassing things. There was no telling what would happen if Woltar had found him in what constituted as an ‘emotional state’ for him. The old man would try to bond or something equally awful.

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The rest of that night went similarly miserable. Cleaning the dishes brought memories of playing maid to Vox and sitting by the fire reminded Albel of the times the duke had commanded him to couple on the floor. Perhaps going to their old quarters was a bad idea; he was not chasing the ghosts away as he had thought, instead they were working their hardest to drive the captain insane.

When he retreated to the bedroom, Albel thought his mind would rest, but being in that bed only brought more memories. Those memories were by far the worst he had recalled. The feel of the blankets reminded him of when he would lie in Vox’s arms, naked and pressing close for warmth. After the duke had first commanded him to stay naked while in the apartments, Albel had only dared to challenge that demand once. He paid for that challenge and was ever after the obedient lover.

“I know what’s best for you.” Vox had told him once, holding the boy in the crook of his arm, pressing their bodies tightly together. It was a grip Albel could not wriggle out of.

At that time though, Albel had not wanted to. He had nodded his head, believing, for some reason, that the man truly did know what was best for him, so he should simply listen to what the duke said.

Albel did not sleep that night. He left early the next morning; the ghosts of his past were too much for him to battle.

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Being chased out of his own quarters because of his insufferable past put the captain in a foul mood. One night of deep thought was enough though. As soon as he returned to Woltar’s mansion, he locked himself in his room and pulled his communicator out of his desk drawer.

Albel cursed himself for the need to communicate with Cliff, to have the man close. It had been the same need he had had when Vox was still alive. That was not a state of being he wished to be stuck in again. But he knew better now; he would never make the same mistake again, nor would Cliff ever try to manipulate him like the duke had.

The letter Albel sent was very short and to the point. When Cliff read it, he knew exactly what the Elicoorian was saying: Come home soon, AKA NOW.

~END

This chapter was hard and it sucked to write. I had the energy in the beginning, but not in the end. It felt like getting stabbed, trying to write this. I don't even remember how many headaches I've gotten from sitting down and staring at this chapter. When you have chapters like these it's best to finish them as best you can then move on. So there was chapter 7, after a long wait. No porn this chapter, but there's no rule that says there has to be porn every chapter, and the first few were porn filled anyway. I have the next chapters planned out, but my inspiration ran away, help me find it again! PS--my new job sucks the life out of me. Fail.