Book One: Time Of The Clan

chapter 4

"Well sir, I understand that it may be too.... greedy of me, but I would really prefer a room of my own." Atticus told Aamon.
"Pet, I understand what you want, I also anticipated that you would be unhappy with your new living arrangements, however you will get eaten if you are not safe in my room, I will take the heads out to appease your fears a little more, however I can't have you leave yet. You are not scented or collared by me." Aamon crooned, it made Atticus shudder, there was clearly something wrong with this guy, that or he was just very different than most here. First Meredith was weird and now Aamon, granted, Aamon was much nicer and much gentler than Meredith was. Atticus considered staying in the room, even if he disliked the idea. He saw the way the foreign demons looked at him, as if he were something to hide and heard away, as if they wanted to use him, the look they gave him made him feel like less than a person, more like a toy. He did not want to find out what would happen if one of those foreign demons got their hands on him, he looked around the room and decided it wasn't all too bad, and Aamon had agreed to get rid of the questionable taxidermy. Atticus sighed in a resigned manor, accepting that he was likely going to be here for a while. He told himself that it was okay because it was an upgrade from how he was treated with Meredith. Aamon saw the look on Atticus's face and figured he won, chuckling quietly to himself he looked Atticus up and down, savoring his new prey.
"The masquerade!" Aamon exclaimed suddenly. We need to get you ready; I had an entire outfit prepared for you upon our arrival." Aamon looked around excitedly.
Atticus looked up nervously at him. Aamon pulled out a semi-revealing outfit, it showed off his hips and legs, his shoulders were on display and the fabric was very light, there was a light white fabric underneath to cover the rest of him, however. There was a piece of cloth ready to be set on his head and he had sandals that were littered with gemstones. Last but not least, there was a necklace and a large piece of jewelry meant to go around his waist.
"Sir?" Atticus looked at the man.
"I will not be discussing this Atticus; you will wear it. I don't care what you want in this situation, this is proper." Aamon told Atticus, silencing any ideas of protest from the smaller man.
"Yes sir." Atticus agreed.
"Yes who?" Aamon asked.
"Yes Aamon." Atticus corrected himself.
"Good boy. Now, put this on, the banquet is about to start, I want to see you before we leave." Aamon demanded.
"Where can I put it on Aamon?" Atticus asked him.
"Right here." Aamon asked, testing the limits. "But if your truly worried about privacy right now, there is a bathroom to the left." Aamon told Atticus, seeing what he would do.
Atticus of course chose the bathroom, not yet understanding what exactly Aamon had been implying towards him. He entered the bathroom and was surprised when he saw the lavish golds on the black tiling. Atticus looked down at the outfit, as much as he did not want to hear it, he could hear a little part of himself telling him how good it must feel to be looked at, how good he would feel being admired by those who couldn't reach him. He had almost hoped that this was not how Aamon felt about him, the possessive feeling that almost hurt with how present it was in himself. Atticus started putting on the outfit, taking off his clothes and letting the cool feeling of the dark cloth cascade down his body as he dressed himself. He finally got the outfit on, it wrapped around his torso and flowed down his legs baggily. He draped the last piece of cloth over his head, he could see, but it did take away some of his vision. He slipped on the sandals and went to what he secretly thought was his favorite part. He got the jewelry and started putting it on himself, clipping the sparkling necklace around his throat, putting his wrists through the bracelets, seemingly made of lave rocks. Lastly, he saw the jewelry meant for his hips, he picked it up and wrapped it around his torso, clipping it into place and letting it sink further down to his hips, it stopped as it caught the waist band and sat in place. All in all, Atticus thought he looked good, revealed, but good. Atticus walked out timidly, wondering what Aamon reaction would be.
When he walked out, he saw Aamon look over at him. His ear tinted pink, Atticus walked closer.
"You look delicious emerald. Too bad I can't have you yet, we have a masquerade to attend." Aamon told Atticus, holding out his arm.
Atticus took aamons arm, knowing he had no choice but to go to the masquerade, his outfit matched the standards too, his face was covered. Atticus wondered if he might meet anyone at the masquerade, a friend, maybe? He did not have much time to think on it because he was quickly dragged out of the room and down the staircase once more. He followed Aamon down the stairs and through the turning hallways back into the room they had previously been in. The towering doors of the ballroom stood before them and they opened as Atticus felt an arm slip around his waist, guiding him into the dimly lit room. There were beautiful décor and people all around, they all looked wealthy as their clothes hung around them, laced with golds and jewels. None looked like Atticus and Aamon did however, nobody there had been allowed to wear black but the king and Atticus. Atticus saw this and looked up at Aamon in confusion.
"Well, it's only to be expected that a king and his bride match!" Aamon told Atticus, knowing the boy would not want to argue with him in front of the intimidating crowd.
Atticus looked away in fear, Aamon may be treating him well, but he seemed very manipulative, he knew Atticus could not speak now, he took advantage of his fear. Atticus was petrified but he was forced to keep in pace with aamons's stride as he was pulled over to a throne, what surprised him more was that when Aamon sat, he was pulled down onto aamons lap with the older man, Atticus tensed, unable to move due to the foreign touch. He felt the eyes of the masquerade guests on him, he couldn't move. All he heard was static and his breathing slowed, he was put in a state of euphoric pain, not knowing what was real or not, the last thing he felt was a drink being pressed against his lips before he blacked out.
Aamon's pov
I look down as I offer my little emerald a drink, I was surprised when I saw him passed out, I had known he would be scared, but not that scared. Aamon thought Atticus was a pretty sleeper, he breathed softly as he was pressed into the bigger man's chest. The people at the masquerade looked at the sleeping wife, how many must have wished to be in Atticus's place. The onlookers shrunk away when the lord looked down upon them, they new what this masquerade was, it was not as much of a masquerade as it was a presentation, a demonstration of power. Aamon knew that he must instill fear in his people, for if they were not scared, they would try to rebel.he looked around at the gathering and grinned in satisfaction as his people recognized their new queen.
"Emerald?" Aamon made an attempt to wake the sleeping boy. The boy stirred but did not wake. Aamon shook him a bit harder, getting a reaction out of the boy. Atticus rose slightly, rubbing away his tiredness with a yawn.
He looked around as he felt the weight of the events before he blacked out fall down upon him, he looked at Aamon fearfully.
"Emerald...don't you worry. You will do just fine as my queen." Aamon told him.
"No. No! I don't want to be your queen! Why wasn't I told about this? Aamon!" Atticus whispered desperately at Aamon.
"Emerald. You don't have a choice. They all see you as a new leader, what would they think about you if you attempted to reject my offer?" Aamon cooed as he stroked Atticus's eyes. The veil on Atticus's head was dark enough to hide the falling tears.
"I...I thought you might be better than Meredith but...you might just be worse." Atticus looked up at Aamon. Broken.
"Oh...don't cry sweet thing. Your too pretty for you to stain your face with those nasty tears." Aamon pulled Atticus closer, his gaze landing on his right-hand man, Balaam. Balaam looked back at his ruler and friend, wondering what could possibly be needed of him. He watched as his master called him over to his side, Balaam followed the stairway up to the man.
"Yes, my lord?" Balaam asked the ruler before him.
"Take him up to my bedroom, get him an outfit, and prepare him for sleep. I will be up to visit soon. You need not worry, he is just overwhelmed. If you feel that you must, you may toy with him. Report to me on any strange behavior." Aamon ordered Balaam.
"Yes sir, of course." Balaam said. Balaam pulled a crying Atticus into his arm and walked away, taking the stair to walk to the kings room. Balaam felt the arched back of the man he was carrying and how the man gripped onto his shirt tightly, wrinkling the fabric.
"I you would, please stop gripping my shirt as tightly? Your wrinkling the fabrics." Balaam told him.
Atticus jumped at the commanding voice, not having paid it much attention in the ballroom.
"Sorry sir." Atticus apologized to the abnormally tall man.
"I will belive it when it stops." Balaam said. Atticus jumped and pulled away, almost falling out of the mans arms. He was caught quickly. Atticus heard a sigh above him.
"Refrain from harming yourself, i dont want to face our lords anger when he hears you got hurt under my watch." Balaam ordered. Atticus grumbled under his breath, not wanting to listen, but knowing that he should for his own sake. They turned through th stairways back and forth until they reached the grand doors from earlier, the ones he could clearly remember being aamons room. He almost feared those doors, he remembered what Aamon said about balaam being allowed to "play' with him. Whatever that meant, Atticus did not want to find. They got in the room and Atticus felt the wave of comfort once more, being in a familiar place without people.
"Take of your clothes, you must change into night wear." Balaam told Atticus.
Atticus slowly took his clothes off. Waiting for the change to appear.
"Faster." Balaam ordered, not having his behavior. Atticus got annoyed and decided to go even slower to spite him. Balaam did not appreciate this.
Atticus was thrown against the bed with his pajamas on, an angry balaam towering over him.
"Sit." Balaam threatened. Atticus ignored him and went to stand up.
Balaam took a threatening pose and yelled.
"I said sit!"
Word count:1938