Duels of Honour: Giving the Lie

Chapter the Seventh: Consolation

Usze watched his mate blinking up at him, apparently with no more story to tell.

“So that’s it?” Usze asked weakly. “I got the story you wouldn’t give your classmates?”

N’tho nodded.

Usze put his arms around his husband and waited, trying to sort out the maelstrom of emotions surging through him. He was upset, very upset, and he didn’t know why.

It had to be more than sexual jealousy. Usze knew that N’tho had had lots of mates. He’d even forced himself to watch that horrible little movie Epse ‘Gamulee had spliced together from security camera footage, images of Nitro with his mates, and he well remembered the twin sensations of disgust at the gratuitous display entwined with fierce possessiveness of the wayward soldier who was apparently his responsibility.

Looking back now, Usze realized that an offhanded assumption by Sergeant Johnson—a presumption that Usze was the senior of the pair and therefore responsible for N’tho’s behaviour after he became intoxicated at the hands of Doyle, the Marines’ premier bootlegger—was not an order that a Sangheili Blademaster should have been compelled to obey. And yet, somehow, he’d felt obligated to look after N’tho, despite the fact that many of ‘Sraom’s problems seemed at the time to have been his just deserts for indulging in excesses. Usze had told himself then that having his fellow Honour Guard in combat-worthy condition was in his own best interest – and it had been, because N’tho saved his life several times – but now he admitted that some part of him had simply liked taking charge of N’tho and ordering him around.

And some part of him had simply liked N’tho.

Was it all right, because somewhere along the line it had turned into mutual love?

“Can I ask you,” Usze said slowly, keeping his words steady and even, not permitting any hint of the roiling emotion in his mind to taint them, “can I ask you what happened between yourself and the Arbiter during the Halo mission…I mean, when I wasn’t around?”

N’tho swallowed. Usze watched the tendons in his long neck flex with the motion. “When we…when we first got to Earth…well, you know I was feeling lonely. And I…” His mandibles churned. “He looks good, you know?”

Usze nodded warily.

“So when we were all camped out in the jungle eating lunch, I was going to ask him if he wanted to…” N’tho didn’t say it. He swallowed again and continued, “But when I went to, er, gauge his interest, I heard him telling the Master Chief about how he was in love with Rtas ‘Vadum. And I just turned around and walked away.” N’tho shrugged. “I didn’t want to get in the middle of that. I mean, Rtas was the only superior officer I’d ever had who didn’t ask me to fuck him before he would overlook my Mark of Punishment. Trying to seduce his consort is a hell of a way to say thank you, Rtas, you know?”

Usze nodded, suddenly relieved.

“Instead, I decided that I would take Private Doyle up on his offer to taste his home brewed liquor in the mess. After a few shots, when he challenged me to chug the whole thing, it seemed like a great idea at the time, and…” N’tho blinked his eyes, suddenly shy. “And the next thing I knew, I woke up in your bunk.”

Usze nuzzled his husband, wondering what his past self would have done if he could have seen this far into the future. ‘Taham could only shake his head as he remembered how irritated he had been with N’tho, how frustrated, how disgusted….and how intrigued against his own better judgment.

Usze felt a similar mixture of emotions when he thought of how he had been wearing the cloak N’tho gave him…the cloak that had been Thel ‘Vadam’s parting gift to a young warrior. What had ever made N’tho think a token from a former lover would be an appropriate present for his mate? Usze had two choices—to dwell on it, or to ask the question and be done with it. And, since it was a night for clearing the air between them, he voiced his inquiry. “May I ask you why you gave me that cloak?”

N’tho looked away. “A few reasons, actually.” He coughed again. “First, you needed a disguise at the time and that was the only real option at hand…”

Usze nodded. That was true. “But you didn’t ask for it back.”

N’tho flushed. “Well, er, the second reason is, um, you know that fur kind of turns me on.”

Usze felt his face heating up as well. That statement was also true. Every time he walked into the room wearing only the cloak, N’tho had been all over him. And Usze had taken full advantage of the fact.

Then he thought of something and he shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t…Nitro…do you pretend I’m….?”

N’tho’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, Usze, I….”

Usze felt better, but he didn’t want to linger on this subject. “You wanted me to keep it so we could play with fur, is that it?”

“And because it’s the only thing I had that was worth giving you.” N’tho looked ashamed again. “You’re a classy guy, Uzi, and I don’t have much…I mean…you wouldn’t want a Human music player, or a little model of a Ghost….”

Usze blinked, surprised. He kept forgetting that his “arrogant gentleman” persona came with a price attached. N’tho didn’t feel any of his things were good enough to make acceptable gifts, and perhaps he still feared he wasn’t good enough either.

‘Taham eased sideways to lie next to ‘Sraom. Uzi leaned his weight on his left elbow so his right hand could stroke N’tho’s cheek. “I think I would very much like a little model of a Mongoose. Do you think you could build me something like that?”

N’tho wiped at his eyes. “Yeah, sure I could…a Mongoose?” Their eyes met and suddenly ‘Sraom smiled. “In honour of my elite driving skills?”

“In honour of your not obeying orders and saving my hide,” Usze murmured, remembering that horrifying incident on the exploding Omega Halo where he’d crashed his Chopper and found himself lying there, injured, as the world came apart around him. N’tho had turned his Mongoose around and come back for him. Usze doubted he would have done the same, not then, and it shamed him now, how he’d treated N’tho. How he’d had no idea what the Minor Domo would come to mean to him.

N’tho was obviously remembering it as well, because his eyes shimmered and his voice sounded thick as he said, “Yeah, I think I could do that.”

Usze purred. “And I will get a long, thick fur cloak…black, perhaps …that I can wear around…and to bed with you…”

He hoped N’tho would respond to his overtures, because he was beginning to realize that his jumpsuit was an unwelcome barrier between himself and his unclothed mate.

“I’d like that,” N’tho whispered, “sir.”

Usze shivered, still feeling odd about N’tho’s submissiveness. “We are both Ambassadors, N’tho. You don’t need to call me sir,” Usze said patiently, wondering if N’tho would ever be able to accept that Uzi didn’t want to dominate him, use him, hurt him.

N’tho moaned low in his throat. “But…it feels so good when you take charge…”

Usze’s mandibles clicked with sudden realization. He slid his hand under his mate’s lower jaws and lifted his head to look into his eyes. N’tho looked up at him as he did so, and he could see the younger male was nervous. “You’re telling me you say that because you want to?” The idea was bizarre, alien. Usze could barely wrap his mind around it.

N’tho had been forced into a lot of unwanted situations in his life due to the Mark of Punishment he had once worn branded into his hide. The Mark had made him a second-class citizen, though he had done nothing wrong; it had been his grandfather’s sins that had resulted in the Marking of his entire family. Usze had accepted that N’tho had been taught, by force, to obey. What he did not understand was why now, when N’tho was a hero and the Mark had been removed, he might choose to be submissive. Sangheili society valued power, conquest, and strength—not servitude.
But how much of his story about himself and Thel ‘Vadamee had been about N’tho’s discovery of how much he liked to submit to another’s control?

N’tho was shivering now. “Do you want me to stop it?”

Usze gently licked N’tho’s cheek. “Ssssh…relax now.” He drew Nitro close and stroked him. “Easy…easy. Let it go.” His mate let out a deep sigh and his body relaxed against Usze’s, but a small whimper escaped his mouth.

‘Taham shifted against his mate, all too aware of both of their arousals. He pressed with his hips to test N’tho’s reactions. Nitro made a needy keening noise.

Uzi whispered in his mate’s earbud, “Would you like me to take charge of you right now?”

N’tho nodded.

Usze was still uncertain about the power dynamic in their relationship, but if N’tho wanted this as much as he did, he was not going to question it. He eased the bottom zip of his jumpsuit open and, not bothering to shed the rest of the clothing, joined himself with his mate.

Their union was a slow and gradual thing. N’tho panted, eager, but Usze held him down and shushed him. If N’tho really liked being instructed…perhaps that was just as well, because Usze loved control and this meant it was all right if he spent a little time gently tormenting his mate.

“Breathe deeply,” Usze murmured as he thrust slowly, gently, entering a little deeper each time.

And N’tho obeyed him, mewling in pleasure, until their union was complete.

Usze rocked back and forth with his mate, and N’tho gasped, “It feels…different…”

“Very slow,” Usze murmured. “Very sweet.”

“I…” Words failed ‘Sraom. Tears crept from his eyes.

Usze used his tongue to sponge them away.

N’tho wrapped his arms around his husband’s shoulders, weeping now, and Usze lapped his tears until his mate drew a deep, shuddering breath and started to purr instead.

Usze’s poor mate was so starved for affection, and he lapped up everything Uzi gave to him. The only possible response was for Usze to be as generous as he could, lavishing attention on his mate until N’tho felt secure.

It meant, of course, that Usze had to bite down on his mandibles and use every ounce of self-discipline the Ascetic Order had taught him to keep control when his husband hit climax beneath him. Over and over again, Usze gritted his teeth and steeled his nerves and gave Nitro what he needed.

Finally, an exhausted N’tho mumbled, “Usze…I love this…but I…I can’t stay awake…jet lag…Africa…”

Usze smiled and permitted himself his own release at last.

When it was done, Usze remained joined to his mate, curled up on top of N’tho, listening to both their hearts thundering.

“Do you still love me?” N’tho asked abruptly.

Usze wrapped his arms tighter around his husband. “Of course I do,” he said soothingly, licking his mate’s cheek. “Do not ever worry about that.”

No, it wasn’t Nitro who he was angry with. What else could he have expected? The post-graduation mating night was Sangheili tradition. Usze had done it too, though his experience had been less pleasant.

Was that it? Was he jealous that Nitro had enjoyed himself, whereas Usze had suffered through an extremely awkward encounter with a High Priestess? ‘Taham didn’t think so. He had been pleasantly surprised not to hear some terrible story of coercion and abuse. N’tho had endured enough of that.

No, N’tho was entitled to have a good time with the best partner he could get, which in this case happened to be an extremely superior officer, and…

N’tho interrupted Usze’s musing. “Was it…” N’tho blinked, seeming tired. “Was it because he was my first?”

“No,” Usze said gently. “I don’t care about that.” He curled up closely around his mate. “I’ll be all right. We’ll be all right.”

N’tho purred. “I love you, Usze.”

“You should go to sleep.” He leaned over to whisper in his earbud, “I promise you…we’ll have some fun this weekend. Something special.”

N’tho grinned.

Usze smiled and bunted his mate. “Rest now.”

“You gonna…” N’tho’s voice slurred. “…you gonna be here when I wake up?”

There it was.

Pieces fell into place, or some of them, anyway. Thel ‘Vadam had taken it upon himself to share something so intimate with N’tho and then he had simply left. As though Nitro was nothing more than a pleasant little diversion. And that act had kicked off a long line of leavers, from N’tho’s first serious relationship, which had ended when he received the Mark of Punishment and his mate had dumped him because of it, all the way down the series of Sangheili who assumed that Mark meant that N’tho was their plaything to use and discard, until Usze had come along. Usze was still an Ascetic in very many ways, and he took his responsibilities seriously.

Responsibilities. They came with rank. And if one was going to use one’s rank to attract the attentions of a junior officer and order him into one’s arms, then one should stay to deal with the consequences of those actions. Thel ‘Vadam had either failed to anticipate what his deeds had done to N’tho’s ideas about relationships and mating, or else he’d not been bothered to address those consequences.

And what about N’tho’s responsibility in this matter? Why, he’d only been doing what he’d been taught – that if you want something, whether it be companionship or status or comfort or simply to shut up those who were badmouthing you, all you needed to do was catch the eye of a superior officer. And the worse his situation—the undeserved Mark of Punishment, the scorn of his comrades, the bad reputation he’d racked up—the more outrageous his sexual conduct became.

Thel ‘Vadam had set the whole damned pattern.

And N’tho had been repeating it ever since.

Thick, choking rage rose up in Usze’s throat.

Intentional or not – coercively or not – the Arbiter had hurt his mate, and Usze ‘Taham could not ignore that fact.

Usze swallowed down his fury to respond to N’tho.

“I will always be here for you,” he murmured. “I will always be there to protect you. No matter the cost.”

This was no platitude. It was a holy vow.

He would keep it, or die trying.

*

Admiral Rtas ‘Vadum stood alone on the cape overlooking the beach, a solitary figure in white armour under a diamond-studded sky.

He had woken from a terrible nightmare, and while he did not wish to think of it, the images continued to intrude into his conscious mind.

He had been back on Infinite Succor. The Flood had been everywhere – infection forms, and Pure Forms, and worst of all, the bodies of his former comrades.

They had been his Elites. He should have protected them. Instead, they were broken shadows of their former selves, and he was still alive somehow.

He was the least worthy to be alive. They had done nothing wrong. He had failed them. In some gross miscarriage of judgment, he was spared the Flood’s wrath. His men received the punishment for his failing.

The only thing he could do was lash back at the Flood. The only possible salvation left to him was to prevent the Flood from spreading throughout the Fleet of Particular Justice.

And so, Rtas ‘Vadum had drawn his energy sword and drove it through the heart of the nearest Flood-infected Sangheili…

Miraculously, the infection had retreated from his fury. It had poured out of the other Sangheili’s body, reducing itself to an infection form that scuttled away and popped harmlessly…

…leaving Rtas’ blade through Kusovai’s left heart.

Kusovai looked up at him with an expression of shock. Rtas recognized his mate too late to take back the blow. Betrayal tinged Kusovai’s features; he mouthed the word “Why?” as his knees buckled, and his weight fell forward, driving his body even deeper on the sword that somehow Rtas had forgotten to deactivate, had forgotten how to deactivate.

And the universe spun around Rtas, for he knew in that moment, he could still save the fleet, but his own world had already ended…

Rtas woke up screaming, but Thel had not stirred. Thel had grown far too accustomed to Rtas’ nightmares and no longer bothered to react to them.

Unable to sleep, Rtas had come out here to the beach in an attempt to get his thoughts in order.

There was nothing more he could do for Kusovai. There was, perhaps, nothing he ever could have done for Kusovai—how could Rtas have known about the Flood, or that the Infinite Succor mission would go so horribly wrong? How could Rtas have justified leaving his Subcommander, the best Swordsman of all Sangheili, behind, even if he had known?

No, there was only one way Rtas could apologize to Kusovai and the rest of his dead soldiers. There was only one way he could ask their forgiveness for the fact that he had survived and they had not.

He had no choice but to dedicate his life to making a difference to all the other Sangheili soldiers, the ones who were still alive for him to help.

He would defeat the renegade Admiral Xytan ‘Jar Wattin. He would keep his promise to Fil Storamy. And he would help his former SpecOps warrior, N’tho ‘Sraom.

‘Sraom deserved better than to be pressed into service as the sexual plaything of that obnoxious Ascetic, Usze ‘Taham. Rtas was not entirely certain that the arrogant, coldhearted ex-Blademaster was truly on their side; perhaps his act of rebellion against the Ascetics had been made for personal reasons. Perhaps it had nothing to do with allegiance to the Arbiter whatsoever.

N’tho ‘Sraom had fought too hard to make something of himself, despite his undeserved Mark of Punishment, to spend the rest of his life as Usze ‘Taham’s thrall.

Rtas ‘Vadum smiled, but it was forced, and the only expression to reach his eyes was a cold, predatory glitter.

Tomorrow he would reassign N’tho ‘Sraom to Iruiru, far away from Usze’s clutches. To Kusovai, he would offer this act of benevolence towards a former SpecOps warrior.

And to himself, he would offer vengeance on Usze ‘Taham for what Usze had done with the Arbiter.

End Part One


Author’s Note:

So, it’s looking like “Duels of Honour” will be a part of a longer series– two duologies – not just one. The reason for this is because it’s become apparent to me that Thel and Rtas are going to need an opportunity to tell their sides of the story, their buried secrets, and their futures.

I write using a technique called “tight third person.” Each sequence is told from the point of view of a specific character. Imagine that they are “holding the camera” and filming the world as they perceive it to be. When you’re reading their sections, you’re getting their interpretations of events, told in their kind of language (which is why N’tho’s sections tend to use slang and casual language, while Usze’s are more formal) and you’re also getting their biases.

People see events in different ways. Rtas, for example, has taken the evidence he’s seen and drawn a mistaken conclusion – that Usze seduced Thel during the Halo mission, and that Usze is bullying N’tho. And we know he’s got post-traumatic stress and unresolved issues with Kusovai. He’s not just being a jerk. But he does have the potential to cause Usze a lot of problems…

The next story in this mini-series is “Duels of Honour: Giving the Blade” where the conflict between Usze and Rtas comes to a breaking point.