Cobalt Key part 2

by  Mink

        Jaden sat sadly in his bright window, one knee drawn up to his bare chest, the sprawling country side blurry behind his tears. The soft golden walls did not please him today, nor did the watery worlds painted so carefully on the soft silk screens catch his imagination. The bronze incense burner sat cold and unlit on the table, the fresh flowers wilted and falling to pieces, petals scattered on the floor. A tall cool glass of juice sat untouched by him on the wide sill, left by someone in a small sorry gesture towards his sorrow. The door opened behind him but he did not turn to see who it was. It wasn't his master and that was all that mattered.

        "Jaden?" A small soft voice ventured.

        Jaden, turned, his violet eyes sparkling with tears. A young man stood uncertainly, his long pale hair drawn in a ponytail that hung down one shoulder, his pale features drawn in concern. His silver silk pants where tied low down on one hip, far enough for the pearly gray of his key to be seen. A weary smile came from Jaden, and he held out his arms weakly. "Hold me please Asha."

        "Oh poor sweet Jaden." The boy breathed, rushing to the window sill and embracing Jaden tightly, gathering him up and petting his long black hair. "No music?"

        Jaden felt a small burn of relief and felt fresh tears come to his eyes, making the soft golden room around him blur. Asha had been his close friend all his young life, a fellow key, with pale green eyes like the muted rainy mist of the forests and hills that rolled around palace.  Jaden knew the ivory flute he played was tossed aside amongst the pillows. "No music." Jaden breathed into the warm shoulder. "How could there possibly be any music?"

        Asha's lean but not so tall body pressed against Jaden, and in a easy deft gesture, swung his long white ponytail over his shoulder to hang down his back. "I'm so sorry Jaden." Asha's fingertips were brushing back the hot tears on Jaden's face.

        Jaden collapsed in the tight embrace, Asha trembling arms around him.  Asha began, "There's another, I heard my master speaking of it."

        "An-another?" Jaden asked, using the back of an ivory hand to wipe at his violet eyes.

        "Yes, he is to arrive today Jaden, you must obey him and be good." Asha begged.

        "It will be so hard Asha." Jaden whispered, his hand touching the long soft hair that  hung down Asha's back.. "I wish to serve no one but him."

        "I can show you something," The boy said timidly, " Jayce, that awful new key, showed me something the other night during the fireworks," Asha suddenly blushed, and lowered his gaze. "He said his masters liked it very much so I tried it and my master did too."

        Jaden blinked. "Well what is it?" He leaned forward, curious. "Is it a new song?"

        Asha shook his head. "It is much sweeter than any song you could remember, "Asha pulled Jaden to a stand and then showed him softly to some pillows. "Your mouth can do nicer things than sing." He pushed Jaden playfully back onto the soft cushions, his laugh was low and mischievous.

        Jaden breathed deeply when he felt the warm mouth suddenly pressed on his own, and started when the mouth touched his neck and felt Asha's eager hands easing the knot at the front of his silk pants.

        "Asha!" Jaden was startled but his face felt warm. He had kissed Asha many times but Asha seemed intent to do more. But what? He liked the feeling of Asha's kisses on his neck, it was so comforting and soft. A delicious warmth suffused him. The silken knot came undone in Asha's hands. "What are you doing?" Jaden's dark lashes fluttered against his face as he lay back and sighed, the smooth silk sliding easily down his legs. Jaden knew Asha was looking at him, nude now, save for the delicate gold anklet with it's soft ringing bells, but it wasn't like any look he was used to seeing from his friend. It made him feel warm, and Jaden drew his thighs together, unsure and suddenly shy. Asha lay comfortably over his legs, and Jaden felt his thighs eased apart, the satin pillows brushing like caress on his bare skin. That pleasant ache was starting again, filling him with sweet heat.

        "Don't be afraid Jaden," Asha murmured, kissing his hard lower stomach, his hands running down Jaden's thighs. "It will make you feel better."

        Jaden nodded numbly, Asha's soft kisses and smooth touch was making him breathe harder.

        Asha's ponytail slid over his shoulder and brushed against the length of Jaden's sex. Jaden shivered, letting out a small gasp and sitting up quickly, he shamefully pulled a pillow over what Asha had done. "A--Asha, we mustn't--"

        Asha only smiled from between Jaden's thighs, biting at his lower lip. "You like it?"

        Jaden nodded sadly, his long raven hair around his shoulders. "But I am frightened."

        Asha nodded, but gently tugged the soft pillow away.

        Jaden arched his back when the hot mouth swallowed him all the way down , and another hand took the heavy silky weight of his balls in a soft but firm grasp. The sensation was the most intense sweet pressure he had ever felt, and he writhed under Asha's slight weight. The sweet burn grew stronger and stronger, the slow steady pull of the hot mouth made him so hard the pleasure bordered on pain. Asha drew Jaden's thighs further apart and pressed his face down between Jaden's legs, running his tongue back up the bottom of the hard length. Cool air breathed through the bright window and touched his face like a kiss. But then the heat rushed and centered between his legs, the bittersweet pain sliding him over some unseen edge.

        "Oh Asha, oh I think I'm dying!"

        Shuddering, Jaden felt his mind go with the pleasure and his thighs tense in unexpected, sudden release.         

        Asha giggled when Jaden jerked and moaned, cumming quickly and hard into his mouth.

        Jaden lay weakly, unable to catch his breath. "Oh Asha!" He wiped some dark hair out of his eyes, watching Asha stand. "That was... was...!" He watched Asha drink some of the juice that still sat on the window sill. "Do you, um, would you like me to...?" Jaden felt his face flush, wondering how he could make Asha feel like he had. Would he even be able to do it?

        Jaden's hand went down between his legs touched himself curiously. He couldn't keep his gaze from going to the front of Asha's silvery silk pants, tied like his own.

        "No, Jaden." Asha whispered with a small smile, putting the crystal glass back down. "Let's sleep for a little bit?" Asha curled up into the soft pillows next to Jaden, resting his smooth cheek on Jaden's shoulder. "I didn't sleep much last night, my master likes that a lot too." Asha yawned. "I can make it go for much longer."

~Longer?~ Jaden felt his eyes go wide. But looking down at Asha, Jaden felt sleepy as well, a sweet weariness after what his friend had done to him. He pulled his arms around Asha, and burying his face in the soft white hair, Jaden wondered who his new master was. Would he be able to love him as much as his last? Jaden sighed as he drifted off, sleep rushing up and meeting him in it's embrace.

******** 

        The palace was a monstrous sprawling affair, quite impressively white, with it's countless spires and brightly coloured flags that hung straight and still in the chill rainy mist. Traveling the winding forest road and then finally inside the walls into the noisy bustling city, The Captain watched the palace grow. It became larger and filled the sky beyond the city walls as he and his men approached on horseback along the crowded stone cobbled roadway. Many of the people gave out small cheers as their procession rode by, or ran to give the tired soldiers fresh water or some bread, handing the small gifts quickly up to them, on their mounts. But most of the town's people were silent and sad, for the procession was lead by a dark red flag. They were bringing the dead home.

        Motioning with a black gloved hand, the Captain signaled his men to halt near the center of the bustling city, his lieutenant coming alongside him, on a dark gray mare.

    "Sir?" The tired young man asked, looking off hopefully at the nearby taverns, where there  was warm light and music spilling out into the damp busy streets.

    "Tell them to go to the garrison towns, south and east of the city." He told the younger man. "I will need them in the morning." His eyes darkened when his gaze met the very end of the long procession of his weary soldiers. The wagons topped with the deep red flags.

The dead.

        "Yes Sir!" The young lieutenant answered, giving one hasty mournful glance towards the music. About to spread the unwelcome word, the young lieutenant paused. "Where will you be sir?"

        The Captain looked up at the tiered walls of the palace, and gave a bored sigh. "I need to be presented to the court." Looking sideways, he considered his lieutenant. "I am being given some sort of award."

        The lieutenant's eyebrow's rose. "It is a great honour sir. The Queen must hold you in her favor!"

        The Captain saw the younger man was impressed, and felt himself sneer. "I deserved one long before I started to win her wealth and land." He kicked at his horse and moved away as fast as he could in the churning market crowds, giving one last look to the dark wagons being led away to the temple grounds. "And so did they."

*******

        The Captain was a poised man. He walked tall and purposefully down the lavish corridors of the palace without one hint of fatigue, although he and his men had rode for almost three days straight. He kept his right hand on his sword at his side and his other arm free, his gloved hand in a tight fist. Taking some time to bathe, he had replaced his dull, battle worn armor with bright silver armor, etched in serpent and vine, over black, and a black cloak that flared behind him as he walked. His long red hair was still damp from the hot scented water, and he had let the servant boys braid it for him, so that it fell loose down his back but two long braids down his temples. He had been confused by their attention, their sure hands helping buckle his ceremonial armor.

~It has been a long time since you have been in these walls Marcus.~ He reminded himself sternly. Things were different here. The distant countries he where had spent fighting, were like a dream. The years he had spent in a bloody haze of war. A wave of weariness made him pause in the middle of the great hallway. ~Just accept their petty banner and leave this gaudy mess.~

"Can I help you sir?" A timid serving girl asked him, her small hand on his silver plated arm.

        He jerked his arm away from her. "Do not touch me." His hand came up swiftly, as if he made to strike her, and she scurried away from him, her eyes round with fear. The Captain looked up and saw the wide doors of his destination.

        The Queen was dining when he was shown to her table, a large ornate chair was drawn out for him and he slowly took it, his body sinking into the soft cushions with unwanted relief.   There was laughter and easy conversation trickling everywhere around in the shimmering candlelight. Dark wine was poured for him, steaming food was laid out, the room huge and airy, open out to a large balcony that could be glimpsed through the billowing gauzy white curtains. There were dancers, Marcus could see, music loud and joyous playing out on the balcony, under the night stars.

        He scowled. He needed to be with his counsel, not bantering with the Queen's large and rowdy crowd, hoping for her favor or assignment. He noticed quite suddenly that the happy room had quieted a bit with his arrival, and had grown even more subdued as he was seated.

        The Queen spoke from the head of the large table. "Welcome home Marcus, our Warrior has returned, and shown so little mercy!" Her pale jeweled hand raised her crystal wine goblet and the entire room heralded his name, the people bustling around to him patting him on the back and saying small useless words of praise in his ear.

"You have brought home our honoured dead, how hard it must--."

"You are a great warrior, I have an unwed daughter--."

"Is it true you that slaughtered--"

"I wrote a song for you lord, about the battle fields of--"

"Your sword, my lord, may I touch the sword which defeated-"

        Ignoring them, Marcus stood and gave the Queen a slow respectful bow, his bright silver armor glinting in the gesture, his clear green eyes fixed on her elegant form. A tall dazzling woman, draped causally on her deep purple divan. Marcus could not look at her and not think of silk and glass made flesh, surrounded by attendants whose beauty matched her own.

        "You have accomplished much in your years Marcus," the Queen smiled,",...more than your older companions!"

        He did his best not to sneer at her as he took his seat. Rumors had reached him even in the far off lands he toiled in, Marcus knew the court mocked his age.

~The Boy Warrior.~

~The only Captain to need a wet nurse on the field. ~

        Clutching the fragile goblet by it's stem, the conversation turned swiftly away from him, much to his relief. Marcus's gaze traveled over the filmy sheer clothing the ladies in waiting wore, the dark of their nipples showing when their breasts strained against the flimsy material as they filled a cup with wine or lent down to whisper to a guest. Drinking some of his wine, Marcus all at once noticed a remarkably stunning boy with honey brown hair and large sullen blue eyes, standing near the Queen's divan, sharp red leggings low on his waist, laced up the front with silken cord. A dark red choker lay around the boy's neck and a long, thin silver length of chain ran from his neck to a bracelet that locked around the Queen's ivory wrist. He wasn't tall but he was far from short. The Queen quite causally drew the boy by the chain, down to her face and fed him a wet piece of peach from her mouth. Some of the juice ran down the boy's chin, and he went to wipe it with a elegant hand. The Queen stopped him however, and in a delicate gesture, licked the juice from his face.

        Marcus found himself staring at him. His gaze flickered down to the boy's hip, the red waist of his leggings low. He could see a dark mark there. ~A Key~ He remembered these servants.

        "Do want to touch my Jayce?" The Queen laughed, her hand touching the boy's shoulder length hair next to her. "I do not blame you Marcus, the battlefields were lonely, I am sure!"

        "Perhaps foreign customs are not to his liking?" Someone suggested.

        Looking down, Marcus silently cursed himself for being so obvious, his face flushing  when several other people laughed out loud with them, or tried to hide it behind their wine glasses or hands. Marcus looked up again and the Key, Jayce, was smirking at him. Changing the soft beauty of him to a cunning seductive creature, and shifting slightly in his dark red leggings. He wanted to touch the Key. Marcus drank more wine, gulping it down, liking the warmth that blossomed within him, the music flowing with the incense over the table.

        ~That red~, Marcus thought, ~ enough to heat the coldest eyes.~ He tried to look away, staring at his clenched hands on the table instead. At a small nod from the Queen, Jayce walked slowly around the table. Slowly, like a bored cat, the Key moved, and drew an envelope from behind his bare back.

        He handed it to Marcus, who accepted it in a black gloved hand, his dark gaze going to the mark on the boy's hip, brought so close to Marcus's face. It was shaped like a vertical key, deep red against the pale skin of his lower stomach, as dark as the laced leather Jayce wore, and it looked as if it would smolder under a touch.

        Marcus's gaze flickered back to what he had been handed. An envelope. A dark vibrant blue. A name in sprawling script. ~Jaden.~

        "The Cobalt is all yours.," The Queen paused, sipping her wine. "The Keys are there for your pleasure. To do whatever you wish." She glanced at Jayce, with a welcoming grin.

        Marcus felt himself smile for the first time in a long time, his black gloved hand closing over Jayce's pale wrist, and yanking sharply down. Jayce's resistance was nothing to Marcus' raw strength. The Captain enjoyed the small startled sound Jayce made, it was such an angry sound, tumbling down, jolting painfully hard onto Marcus's lap, his sulky blue gaze shifting sharply and unhappily to the Queen, then quickly back up to Marcus's careful passive face.

        The chain attached to Jayce's neck jerked sharply, making the boy wince as it closed tighter around his throat. The Queen spoke. "Be sweet to our Captain, Jayce. He has made me very happy." Laughter echoed around them.

        Marcus watched the boy delicately pout and face him demurely. He found he wanted to get that dismal look off of the young beautiful face. Taking time to enjoy how the lean Key had fallen into his lap, Marcus looked at Jayce's legs spread wide, one leg over the arm of the chair, one fallen between Marcus's own parted legs, the boy breathing uncertainly, his jaw clenching and unclenching. It had been very lonely in the field.

        "Your armor." The Key named Jayce said, his blue eyes annoyed, flickering down to the etched silver plate Marcus wore . "It's abominably cold."

    Marcus, slid his hand over the boy's hard thigh and up between his legs, squeezing his grip tight over the heat between Jayce's legs. "And you," Marcus whispered, inches from his face, " are abominable, little Key."

        The boy relaxed in his lap, warm and pouting, letting his thighs slide father apart for

        Marcus's gloved hand. "Yes Lord." He sighed shortly, letting his head droop back against  Marcus's other arm, looking for his Queen again, who was already involved with a deep conversation with her ladies, stroking their long bound hair and twisting their gauzy skirts around her wrist, all laughter and soft kisses.

        Jayce tilted his head to the side when Marcus brushed his cheek against Jayce's neck, feeling the heat and scent of the insolent boy. His honey hair against Marcus's shoulder, a gloved hand squeezing the thigh until Marcus hoped bruises were left under the red leather.

      He made the pouting mouth yield to him and it was sweet and hot, like the honey of the hair that glinted gold in the candle light. The wine was strong and made him half crazed. Marcus felt his need surge under the warm weight of Jayce on his lap and it was all he could do not to push the boy onto the table on his stomach and pull the lacing on his leggings free. Would he suffer to be sweet then, or angry and fight him? Jayce was studying him with his blue eyes, as if he could read desire, and his small smirk returned.

Marcus knew the beauty of the Key. To read desire. His desire. What was his Key?

Where was his? He wanted to hear the sharp hiss he heard from Jayce as he squeezed harder, from his own Key, he wanted to own it. He wanted it to know it was owned. He deserved that much.

And more. ~Jaden.~