I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao

© 2014 Onyx Tao

I, Dacien by Onyx Tao is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://onyx-tao.sofurry.com.

Chapter Twenty-Two Part Two: Conclusion

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Dellios let out a small huff of irritation as he strode back through the gardens from the south wing. Bale, the most fractious of his three ferals, was proving to be just as difficult and incorrigible as Dellios had expected. At the two day point, when Dellios had been hoping to hear from Addrissant about Wheat, Nicolai had instead summoned him after Bale had attacked him. The human's bad behavior didn't surprise him -- although it clearly came as an unpleasant shock to Nickolai -- but that didn't make it any easier to deal with him. He'd warned Nickolai that Bale was as close to untameable as any human could be -- truly feral in every sense.

The blue clearly hadn't believed him. Perhaps Nickolai had judged Bale by the standards of the humans he'd seen -- but those were carefully bred, taught, tended, nurtured. Civilized lands would never give rise to a Bale, no indeed ... that would be part of his value to whoever bought him. Dellios reminded himself that, if he hadn't chosen them, all three of them would have ended up chained to oars on a galley. For a moment he wished he'd left Bale to exactly that fate, and then regretted it. It wasn't Bale's fault he was feral any more than ... than ...

Than the clear fact that the topiaries around his suite's back entrance needed trimming, again, was the fault of the topiaries. He let out another minor huff, but it wasn't as if he could fault the gardeners. They'd just trimmed them a couple of days ago. And if the topiaries were looking a little fuzzy, then at least the beds of jasmine were blooming nicely. He paused for a moment to inhale the sharp floral scent, enjoying the crisp sensation.

And his rooms were ... perfect, he thought, looking forward to relaxing with Socks. There was a fortunate coincidence. He wasn't sure he'd have ever noticed the human if it hadn't been for that bisque incident, and Socks was so ... perfect. Too perfect, his conscience reminded him, but that raised yet another complication. He simply refused to give such a treasure to any bull who couldn't appreciate him. Socks deserved the best owner Dellios could find for him -- one who would understand just how perfect he truly was.

But that meant he truly had to search for such a paragon. If he didn't, it was merely an excuse to hold on to Socks himself, and Dellios couldn't deceive himself so. That he was even thinking about such things meant he gone past the point of objectivity; that his judgment was -- had to be -- suspect when it came to Socks. And if he couldn't think clearly about Socks, what did that say about the other one-hundred and sixty-three humans on the estate? Or the three minotaurs he was supposed to be training?

He would find a new master for Sock, Dellios told himself. And until he did that, he would simply have to find the objectivity he needed to deal properly with his charges. He could do this. He would do this.

"... could you tell him, then?" Addrissant's voice drifted out from the open casement windows across the evening air.

"Yes, Master," Socks said. Dellios let himself enjoy the sound of the human's voice. Confident, sure of himself, and devoted. Perfect.

_ Too _ perfect, his conscience reminded him. Socks was _ not _ for him. He took a deep breath, and called, "You may tell me yourself, Addrissant."

"Senior!"

Walking into his rooms, made neat and ready for him by Socks, was a pleasure. The woodwork in the room glistened with a fresh coat of polish -- he hadn't realized it had needed it, but then, he'd been so distracted over the last few weeks. Socks looked up at him, and then sank down to his knees, waiting.

So achingly perfect. What Dellios wanted -- especially after dealing with Bale -- was to send Addrissant out and show Socks just how much he was appreciated. He wasn't wearing anything beyond his loincloth, of course, but ... he was a bit dirty from the work he'd done.

Dellios decided on a bath. He'd have Socks stand in the tub, and pour hot water over him. Just thinking about the streams of water running down the beautiful face, down his chest, his legs ... and then he would soap him up. Inch by inch, and then he could rinse Socks off ... pitcher after pitcher of warm water running down him, rinsing off the soap ...

And then he could take Socks to bed and make him all dirty again. Dellios suppressed the grin that thought brought him, and focused his attention on Addrissant. "Yes?"

"Wheat has said he will surrender to me, Senior."

Dellios nodded. "Good. Any problems?"

"No," said Addrissant. "Well. He whined for a bit, and tried to make excuses. Tried to get out of it, first by asking me, and then trying to figure out how to get it off, but it looks like that glue cold-welded them. I'm kind of curious -- are they stuck in those things forever, or is there a way out?"

"A blacksmith can take them off," said Dellios. "Or if you hit them hard enough with a hammer, it will break the weld. Probably. Although the piercing could hurt."

"I think I'd take him into a blacksmith," agreed Addrissant. "Well, he had a pretty rough night, last night."

"They all did," said Dellios. "I thought the aftereffects of the healing would help them sleep. Not enough, though."

"And the morning was ... he was begging me to let him out."

Dellios nodded. "He slept next to you?"

"Yes."

"Then he'd be pretty desperate after that."

"He was," Addrissant said. "If he hadn't been so ..." the minotaur shrugged. "I thought it would be cute, but I just felt sorry for him."

Dellios nodded again. "I know. You can't let it show, though."

Addrissant grimaced. "You warned us."

"But?"

"I ... might have said something."

Dellios nodded. He'd thought Addrissant would, which is why he'd given him Wheat. At worst, that might cost Wheat another day or so. That kind of encouragement to Straw or Bale might have cost a week. "And it made things worse," he said.

"It did. I was expecting them to act like normal humans. But, they're ..."

"Ferals," said Dellios, with a sigh.

"Ferals," said Addrissant. "I love them, but ... they do make it difficult, don't they?"

"Yes," agreed Dellios. "Perhaps that is part of their charm."

"I'm not feeling charmed at the moment, but ... perhaps that will pass?" asked Addrissant hopefully.

"Perhaps," said Dellios, meaning, no.

"But he is ready," Addrissant said, and then qualified it. "I think. Everything you said ..."

"I hear uncertainty."

"Yes," said Addrissant. "Because ... because I ignored your directions. I didn't know -- I don't know if that interfered. But I did not prompt him, Senior."

"It ... what did you say to him?"

Addrissant looked embarrassed. "That this was a learning experience, and that once he'd learned, there would be no need for it."

Dellios turned those words over in his mind. "Did you say it, or did you say the steel, specifically?"

"I ... it, Senior. Does it matter?"

"Yes," said Dellios. "Of course. You meant the learning experience, and he would have heard, the steel."

"I see that," said Addrissant. "I beg your forgiveness."

"It is not mine you need, but ... you can hardly beg your own charge for forgiveness."

Addrissant nodded. "Senior ... what must I do?"

Dellios sighed. "You know. You simply want another answer."

"It feels ... wrong."

"What is your first responsibility here?"

"Wheat," said Addrissant without hesitation.

Good, thought Dellios. "And what is best for him?"

"It would give him false comfort. It would ... yes. I see, Senior. This is ... harder than I thought it would be."

"Yes," said Dellios. "I tried to warn you. And it will get worse, Addrissant."

"I ..."

"It would be devastating for Wheat if you abandoned him, Addrissant, if he is where you say he is," Dellios interrupted. "Crushing. The point is to bring him to that vulnerability. And yet, if you are going to turn away -- I beg you to do it now. He has put himself -- we have encouraged and guided him to put himself in your hands. I have to know that you will -- that you can -- see this through to the end.

"Think about this," Dellios said. "For at least five minutes. This will get harder. Much, much harder. And remember that, throughout this, Wheat's will be the most important need." Dellios stopped, before he said anything more damning. But Addrissant needed to realize there was a risk for him here, if not exactly how serious that consequence would be. Dellios would not permit Addrissant's weakness to threaten Wheat.

Dellios wondered if Addrissant -- or any of them -- had bothered to run their certification contracts past a justiciar. None of them, he recalled, had justiciary training. But even a justiciar might not catch the subtle wording in the paragraphs that allowed Dellios to act in their legal behalf if, in his opinion, it was needed for the good of his charges. Or realize exactly what use the Slaver's Guild intended to put that wording to, if it was needed. Dellios hoped it wasn't, but ... hope was not a plan. He considered. No. Addrissant hadn't outright failed, not yet, and he certainly hadn't fallen. The possibility was there but ... he would simply have to keep a close watch on Addrissant. No different than the close watch he needed to keep on Mathom and Nicolai, really.

He glanced at Socks, sitting on a cushion, back straight, weight resting on his heels, head up ... so perfect. And yet, Wheat needed him now. Although ... Socks had been worried about the three. That reflected well on Socks, but ... how worried was he? Dellios couldn't really tell.

"Socks, stand," Dellios said, and took a step over to him as Socks obediently got up and moved into a rest position. So perfect. He ran a hand down Sock's side, checking him quickly for any injuries, and he was pleased to see none. Some tension, there, above and beyond the day's activities. "Would you like to see Wheat?"

"Yes, please, Master!" Dellios heard the concern in his voice. If he brought Socks, what would the human see? Ideally, Wheat would be ready, and Dellios could work with him -- that wouldn't be an issue. If Wheat wasn't ready -- likewise not an issue. But if Addrissant couldn't cope ... he didn't want that to happen in front of humans. Let him see, Dellios decided. He'd only worry otherwise. Let him see that Wheat was safe and well-taken care of, and perhaps that assurance would carry over to Bale and Straw. He didn't want Socks around either of them at the moment.

"You will remain quiet," Dellios said. "Unless I -- and only I -- explicitly order speech."

Socks nodded, silently, Dellios noted, not merely accepting the order but showing how he would comply. So perfect. When they got back tonight, he would most definitely have to suitably reward the human. Dellios mentally added a drop of perfume -- something spicy, carnation, he thought -- to the bath. Yes. "Very good," he said to Socks.

"Addrissant? Your thoughts?"

"I ... will see Wheat through this, Senior," the other minotaur replied calmly.

"Good. Socks ..." Dellios remembered the night was a little cool, and amended his thought. "Put on a tunic and trousers, and come with us."

* * *

Socks followed the two minotaurs with ... he wasn't concerned for himself. He was concerned for Wheat; he wasn't bad -- for a feral -- and if it hadn't been for Bale and Straw (who were, Socks thought sadly, bad even for ferals) he thought Wheat would have taken to his new life without the pain he'd been in earlier. Without the steel tube over him. Without whatever they were going to do to him now.

The barn was mostly as it had been two days ago, although there was only a single restraint bench there now. A bed -- no, just the feather mattress, made up and laid on the floor next to a box. A smaller, human-sized sleeping pad with Wheat, wearing a leather half-hood connected to a thick collar. It covered his eyes and the back of his head, leaving only his nose and mouth uncovered. A chain trailed from the collar to a post nearby, and leather mittens kept Wheat's hands immobilized.

Even though Wheat couldn't see, he could evidently hear, because his head jerked towards them as they entered. "Mas ... Master?" he said in an almost desperate tone.

"I am here," Addrissant said, and walked over to Wheat's thin sleeping pad, and bent down -- not to pick him up, as Socks had first thought, but to remove the chain from his collar.

"Please, Master," Wheat said, shaking. His body was coated in a sheen of sweat, his short golden hair damp and flat against his head. "Please take it off." His voice trembled. "I can't ... please, Master! I'll be good, I swear it!" He held up his mittened hands in supplication. "I've learned, really, please ..."

"Wheat, the steel will stay on until your next master removes it." Addrissant said, sounding as if he were repeating himself. "I can help you, but it's not coming off. You said you wanted help."

"Yes, Master ..." Wheat said uncertainly.

"I can help you bear it -- if you let me. But I cannot help you unless you let me help you."

Dellios nodded approvingly.

"But ... you said ..."

Addrissant sighed. "No, Wheat, that's all I said. All I've ever said is that I can help you -- once you let me. The steel will stay on until your next master removes it."

"But ... aren't you my next Master?" Wheat said.

Addrissant started at that, and then looked over at Dellios, thinking about something. "Senior, if I translate what I said from Greek ..."

"It's ambiguous," agreed Dellios and then lifted his hand. Socks had no trouble decoding the gesture as continue.

"I beg your forgiveness," said Addrissant almost instantly, and Dellios stiffened with surprise. Pleased surprise, Socks noted. "I did not consider that you might not understand the clear meaning of my words."

"You're ... apologizing ... to me?"

"Yes," said Addrissant. "It is my responsibility as your Master to ensure you have the right understanding and directions. I failed to consider that my perfectly clear Greek might not be perfectly clear to someone still learning the language. I will be more careful in the future. To be clear -- once you are trained, you will be sold to your next Master, and the removal -- or retention -- of the steel will be his choice."

"He ... might ... keep ... this thing ... on me?" Wheat choked out.

"Yes," said Addrissant without any hint of apology. "If he thinks it best for you. You might think of how best to demonstrate that you no longer require its discipline."

"But ..."

"If you require help," said Addrissant, "then it is right and proper you ask for it. And it is right and proper you receive it." The minotaur's tone softened somewhat. "Had you been raised in civilized lands, you would know this. But since you were not ... it is hard, I imagine, to understand."

Wheat groaned from the mat. "So ... it's hopeless."

Dellios looked concerned, but said nothing.

"If you require help," Addrissant repeated, "then it is right and proper you ask for it."

Wheat looked taken aback, and then licked his lips. Looked at Dellios for a moment, who returned only a blank stare, and then looked back to Addrissant. "Help me?"

"You had only to ask," said Addrissant, picking Wheat up, and embracing him. "Little human. I am glad you've asked ... finally." The minotaur sat down on the bed, and then put Wheat on his lap. "I want your attention ..." and then he looked up at Dellios, and then, oddly, to Socks.

"I'll bring him back in ten minutes or so," said Dellios. "You can let me know if you need more time."

Addrissant nodded, and then turned his attention back to Wheat, talking to him softly -- so softly that Socks couldn't hear him. Dellios nodded, grabbed something from the table, and gestured to Socks. Obediently, Socks followed him out the door. Instead of taking him far, though, Dellios just wandered out into the cool fields surrounding the old stable. What Dellios had taken turned out to be an old worn wool blanket, undyed and badly worn, but still servicable.

Dellios laid it out on the damp ground, and then lay down. "Join me," he said -- almost a request; the words lacked the absolute expectation of obedience that they usually had, although Socks didn't think it was any less of a command. More of an invitation, maybe, one that Master Dellios simply couldn't imagine Socks ignoring.

Not that Socks could have done so; no sooner had his Master spoken that Socks was laying down next to him, and a powerful green arm had pulled his body next to Dellios'. "Sometimes," said Dellios softly, "I just like to stare up and watch the auroras."

Socks looked up at the sky, and stared at the shimmering curtains of pale green and violet lights against the deep black of the sky. "They're very pretty, Master."

Dellios simply nodded.

"What ... what are they?"

Dellios gave a little shrug. "Interactions between high-energy particles and the magnetohyperaboloid," he said, sounding as if he were quoting. "But ... nobody knows what that means, really. I just think they're beautiful to watch. Relaxing. Calming. Just a gorgeous display, night after night after night ..." the minotaur trailed off. "We used to watch them together, Iudas, Xerxes, and me, when we were young. Xerxes would get a basket from the kitchen, and we'd go out and talk and just watch the auroras. I haven't done this for a long time ... not since ..." and Dellios broke off.

"Master?"

"Not since Uncle Rhys died," Dellios said. "That was ..." he paused. "A disaster. My father had died long ago, and ... all our money was with Uncle Rhys. Who ..." he paused. "Who had a clever scheme, according to Iudas, but it unraveled with his death, and left the three of us ... impecunious. Without money," Dellios added. "No, that's not quite right. It left me without money; it left Iudas and Xerxes with a great deal of debt. It hardly mattered to me; I was already a guildmember on the verge of mastery; I invited Iudas and Xerxes to live with me." Dellios sighed.

"If only they had."

"They didn't, then?" Socks said, rather daringly.

"No," Dellios said. "I don't know why I'm telling you this ..." and then he stopped. "It's because of the auroras, that we used to watch." Dellios sighed. "It's brought it all back."

"I'm sorry, Master," Socks said. "It sounds like it hurts. They're so ... amazing," he said, gesturing up at the sky. "It's a shame they bring up that pain."

"It's not their fault. Xerxes ... he was the elder."

"The missing one," Socks asked, more as clarification than question.

Dellios frowned. "You heard us talking about him, that's right. We don't know ..." he stopped. "We've been searching for him."

"I didn't realize a minotaur could go missing," Socks said, trying to lighten the mood.

Dellios just let the quiet of the evening fold around them, under the sheets of liquid light in the sky, and he just cuddled Socks closer to him.

Socks wasn't sure how long it had been when Dellios spoke again; a minute, five minutes, ten, and when he did, his voice was quiet. "He sold himself to cover the debts."

It took Socks a moment to understand, but then he did. "He ... I didn't know that ... that could happen. So that's why you don't know where he is ..."

"That's right," said Dellios. "Xerxes disappeared, and the monies arrived a few hours later. It took Iudas several hours to figure out ... what had happened. He didn't say goodbye, he didn't say ... anything at all. He just went out one afternoon, and vanished. He did leave a note, it just said I have redeemed our debts with my person. It turned up a couple of days later, when Iudas was going through his papers, trying to figure out -- where he went."

"But there wasn't anything?"

"No. Just ... debts. Notices of debts. Demands for payment. Uncle Rhys left Xerxes ..." Dellios was silent for a moment. "I'm sure Uncle had a plan, but he never shared it with his sons. It took Iudas nearly a year to unwind everything, even after the payments had been made." Dellios was quiet, but it was a what to say next quiet, and Socks waited for him. "Xerxes didn't have the instinct for commerce that Rhys had, and ... Iudas is, frankly, far superior to even Rhys. If Iudas had been older than Xerxes ... or if Xerxes had just asked him, or me, for that matter. But ... Xerxes couldn't, or didn't. So he ... somehow ... sold himself. It didn't return our lost fortunes, but it provided me with a generous sufficiency, and it pulled Iudas out of debt."

"Is that how he got to be the Guildmaster?" Socks asked.

Dellios smiled, and kissed Socks again. "He's a guildmaster, not the Guildmaster. And ... yes. He told me the only way we'd ever get Xerxes back was if we were rich, and if I'd just lend him all my money -- he'd get us started."

"So you're rich?"

"I suppose. The last time I asked Iudas, I had something like eight million suns. Xerxes has about half that."

How ... "Master? Maybe I misunderstood? I thought you meant Xerxes sold himself as a slave ..."

"Yes," said Dellios broodingly.

"Then how can he have ... uh, four million suns? And ... how much is a million?"

"Iudas wouldn't touch Xerxes' money. He put it all into a trust for Xerxes. Iudas ... doesn't have any money at all. Everything is either mine, or Xerxes', formally speaking." Dellios paused. "A million ... well, can you imagine a hundred?"

"Of course," Socks said.

"That's where we'll start, then. Consider ten hundreds, if you can."

Socks tried for a moment, and then nodded. "A million is an awful lot."

"It is," said Dellios. "But ten hundreds are a thousand, and much less than a million."

"A thousand is an awful lot, then," said Socks.

"A thousand strikes me as quite a lot, yes. But a million is thousand thousands," said Dellios.

Socks ... couldn't quite make that work in his head. "That's ... that's a million? A thousand thousands?"

"Yes."

"And you have that many suns?"

"In some sort of virtual way, I suppose," Dellios said. "Iudas gives me a piece of paper every year that says I do, he explains carefully how it's all invested, I listen carefully, and understand some of it, nod, and sign a paper authorizing Iudas to continue for the next year, and giving him my proxy for my part of the trust." The minotaur shifted slightly on the blanket.

"I guess ... I didn't know a minotaur could be sold, like a human. Or that a minotaur was worth so much."

"What a minotaur -- or human -- may sell for may not be what he is worth," said Dellios with a yawn. "Sometimes, more often than we ought, we sell humans for mere coin. Ourselves? That is a ... different transaction." He inclined his head toward Socks, as far as his horns would permit him. "I'm not sure ..." and then he paused, stopped. "No. Forgive me, Socks. This -- none of this -- is your burden. I do not mean to lay it on you."

"No, Sir," Socks said, searching for something that might make his Master feel better anyway. "Sometimes it's good to remember that ... that our Masters have problems, too."

"Enough of them," agreed Dellios. "Although, Socks, you know that you are to bring your problems to me. Yes?"

"Of course, Master," Socks said.

Dellios had the air of one waiting, rather expectantly, and Socks wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, so the human just lay there, next to his Master.

"Then nothing troubles you," Dellios said after a long, long wait. "You are serene, calm, and all is well."

"Uh ..." said Socks. "I ..." he searched his conscience for something -- anything -- to confess to his Master, but nothing really came to mind. "I'm, I'm very well, Master."

"What I did to the three ferals does not disturb you, then?"

Oh. "I ... guess it did. Does. Master."

"Then ..." said Master Dellios, patiently.

"I ..." and Socks swallowed. "I know you did it for them, Master, even if I don't understand. It seems ... awful, but ..." Socks stopped, started again. "I trust you, Master. I'm sorry if I seemed like I didn't."

The last thing Socks had expected was another kiss from his Master, but that's what he got. "I am ... very pleased by your trust, Socks. But you are still upset."

"Yes, Master," whispered Socks. "I'm sorry, Master."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Dellios said firmly. "Nothing. But ... I can see something has troubled you ever since that afternoon. Tell me, Socks."

"It's ..." Socks was quiet for a moment, and Dellios simply waited for the him. "It's those tubes, Master. The thought ... the thought of not being able to touch yourself, losing ... I'm sorry, Master. It's just ... I can't ..."

"It disturbs you," said Dellios.

"Yes, Master. I'm ..." and then Socks stopped, realizing that his Master didn't want to hear how sorry he was. "I don't know why."

Dellios nodded. "It is a severe loss of control. A very serious thing."

"I know you did it to help them," Socks offered, tentatively.

"I did it it to give them something to concentrate on other that their captivity," Dellios said calmly. "Something to allow them to test their discipline to the breaking point. And, I did to give them something they could offer their next Master. It's ... a very meaningful gift, or so it will be taken."

"A ... gift?" Socks asked incredulously.

"A gift of trust," said Dellios. "A gift of self. Believe me, their new masters will appreciate it very much."

Socks thought about that for a moment. "So it's really ... a ..." he couldn't find the right word. "A mark of favor?" he hazarded.

"Hardly," Dellios said. "No, at the moment, it's simply discipline. I intend for it to become a means for them to express their complete obedience and submission to their master, but it is not yet that. A mark of favor -" and Dellios reached over to brush the gold ornament in Sock's nipple "- is not utilitarian. It is the decoration of something already beautiful; a tangible sign of an invisible virtue."

"I ..." and Socks paused. "I think I understand, Master." But Socks was going to have to think more about it.

* * *

When they returned, Wheat was quietly suckling on Addrissant, as the gold minotaur murmured something to him as he caressed the man. Dellios simply nodded to Addrissant, who gave him a brief smile in return.

"That was better than I'd expected," Dellios said with some satisfaction as he led Socks back to his room. "I had hoped that Wheat would be ... more reachable, away from Straw and Bale. But I was prepared for disappointment. Perhaps Straw, too, will benefit from Bale's, ah, absence." His shoulders twitched in what Socks knew was a silent laugh. "And perhaps it will rain raspberry tarts."

"That would be sticky," said Socks.

"Yes ..." said Dellios.

The rest of the evening passed quickly; Master Dellios insisted on giving him a bath -- not that Socks objected. Standing in the tub while Master Dellios carefully soaped him and then rinsed him off with hot scented water ... made him want the minotaur every bit as much as -- he hoped -- Master Dellios wanted him.

Dellios used a huge, minotaur-sized towel to dry him in front of the fireplace, instead of the smaller towel Socks would have used on his own. It seemed excessive, but ... Socks could hardly complain as Dellios wrapped the gigantic towel around him. It was ... nice.

More than nice. It was fantastic; what little water was left on him vanished into the vast expanse of a towel meant for a pelted creature almost two feet taller than he was, leaving only the faintest feeling of dampness and the warm smell of fire and ... and ... something floral, spicy, and very pleasant.

The barely-wet towel disappeared back into the bathing-chamber to dry, and Master Dellios came back out with an expression Socks had seen before.

Desire. Lust. For ... him. For Socks.

It made him feel ... it made him feel ... Socks couldn't find words for it, but it was the best feeling ever, to have Master Dellios pick him up, lay him down on the crisp linen beddressing, and kiss him ... all over. Starting at his feet, the lips tickling their way up his legs, stopping, ever so teasingly, until where he had been stiff and ready he was achingly hard and longing, and then Dellios -- no longer Master Dellios, although Socks knew he was still Master -- just Dellios for these moments of intimacy -- moved up his torso.

Kissing his belly.

Licking at the firm transition leading up to his chest.

Nibbling with his lips at the tiny brown stubs of his nipples; Socks could feel the difference between the pierced nipple and the other, and that just made it -- more.

A soft, intense kiss at the v of his neck.

Dellios' huge, broad tongue, swiping across his chin, across his lips. Not demanding entry, not pressing at him -- simply expecting that Socks would open his mouth, not in surrender, but in joyous welcome of his Master.

Socks opened his mouth in joyous welcome. The huge tongue entered, and all Socks could do was moan at the heat of the body over him -- not directly on him; that would be crushing, but just ... on him; letting Socks feel the soft fragrant pine that enfolded him.

Socks couldn't help but pull his legs apart. He couldn't speak, not in the middle of a kiss like this, and he couldn't even imagine trying to free himself long enough to speak, but ... there were ways and ways and ways to say please.

A finger, generously oiled, instantly reassured him he was understood. It felt so good, warm, hot, as his own shaft was caught between his belly and Dellios', and another finger dripped warm oil over his cleft. Joined the first one inside him.

Moved. Socks' groan was caught inside Dellios' mouth, and turned into the minotaur's, as a third finger moved inside him.

Socks almost howled when Dellios pulled them out, but Socks knew what had to ...

... yes ...

... come next. And it did; Dellios slid into him as if Socks were made for him. Dellios was thick, and Socks could feel himself opening more and more for his Master, his body eager to embrace his Master, to show how welcome he was. And Dellios was welcome, more than welcome; Socks wanted his Master inside him -- and even so, he could only be grateful that Dellios paused, stopped.

Let Socks adjust to him. To the size. To the heat. To the feeling of being stretched. Pinioned. Owned.

Mastered.

And Socks was willing, ready, wanting that. Badly. He was ready, so ready, when Master Dellios started moving, slowly, so slowly ...

Socks threw himself up onto Dellios. Please. Please, please, please ...

Socks needn't have worried. Dellios knew what Socks wanted, and he moved faster, thrusting into Socks, forcing him into the soft mattress until Socks was surrounded, covered, all-but-engulfed by the feather-stuffing below him and the minotaur above as the feelings of delight in him boiled over, filled him.

It couldn't get better. Nothing could be better than this, open and willing and taken and fucked not by just any minotaur but by Dellios, the most beautiful and wonderful minotaur Socks had ever seen or known or wanted, knowing that he could never have such a thing, but now he did. It couldn't get better.

Until it did. Socks' scream of release was caught in Dellios' muzzle, as the minotaur came inside him in a throbbing stream of pulses, and Socks' own release exploded between them. All Socks could do was breathe -- deep gulping gasps of air as Dellios watched him with a smile, and stopped him when Socks started to move.

"No," said Dellios.

"But you're all ..."

"Yes," said Dellios, smearing the white fluid across his pelt, and then licking it off his fingers. "But I do not wish to let you go," and the minotaur turned, on his side, effortlessly lifting Socks with him, and cuddling the human up against him. "We will bathe again in the morning, Socks. For now ... sleep."

Socks curled up against Dellios.

* * *

Two days later, Dellios showed Socks into Addrissant's suite, in another wing of the house. Wheat was kneeling at Addrissant's side, looking, Socks noted, much less frantic, even though that length of steel was still there, still confining him.

Socks forced himself to look away from it, up at the feral.

"Socks," Dellios said calmly, "I want to you to teach Wheat ... the details. How to clean a room. To make a bed-chamber ready for its occupant. How to serve food. How to behave. Wheat has said he is eager to learn these things ..." his gaze drifted over to the feral inquiringly.

Wheat, Socks was pleased to note, looked up at Addrissant and got his Master's approval before responding, and even then, all he said was a very quiet, "Yes, Sir."

Dellios nodded approvingly. "Addrissant will be watching him for the time being." The green minotaur glanced around the room. "Carry on."

"Yes, Master," Socks said as Dellios went out -- to go help Nickolai, Socks knew, but then, he'd been absolutely forbidden to discuss Nickolai, Mathom, Bale, or Straw with Wheat.

Addrissant looked over, and with a certain amount of staged deliberation, picked up a book from the table, walked over to a chair, sat down, and began reading. "Carry on," he said, even his tone echoing Dellios'.

"Right ..." said Socks, looking over at Wheat, and then at the room. "I ... let's start at the bed." Socks smiled. "It's always nice to have a freshly made bed."

* * *

Socks made himself watch quietly as Wheat served Addrissant breakfast. The tray held a waffled griddle-cake with cheese and onions on a blue-rimmed emerald porcelain plate, tea in the same blue-rimmed emerald patterned cup, a matching porcelain compotier holding peach conserves, orange juice in a sparkling crystal glass, and a rose bud in a tiny silver vase barely large enough to hold the stem that just hinted at the crimson within. Socks knew this was the last time that would happen, although Wheat didn't. It was just another day, and another set of lessons to the feral -- _ex-_feral, Socks thought. Mostly ex-feral. He'd learned a lot from Socks in the past two weeks, and apparently his new owner was willing to finish polishing his manners. Or something. Privately, Addrissant had been looking distressed, but never where Wheat could see it.

Socks thought Wheat knew at least that much; the two of them spent so much time together that Wheat had to know something was bothering Addrissant. Although ... Socks hadn't seen any sign that he did. Still. Maybe. It was another thing Master Dellios had forbidden him to discuss, what might happen to Wheat in the future. Master Dellios had even given him specific words to say. I am forbidden to discuss that. You must ask your Master.

He'd said it over and over again the first few days, until Wheat finally believed him -- or at least, stopped asking him about Straw and Bale. But Wheat had never asked about what would happen, never asked a single question about anything farther in the future than something Socks had mentioned they would do.

Wheat had done everything himself, with Socks merely watching. It wasn't hard, it wasn't even difficult, but ... it was a certain measure of how far Wheat had come since they'd started working together that he knew what belonged on the tray, how to present it gracefully to his Master, and even to kneel by the side of the bed to wait for his Master to finish.

Socks carefully didn't sigh. He liked Wheat, and he'd miss him, but Master Dellios' commands gave him no leeway. He wouldn't even be able to say goodbye. He simply had to stand and watch as Addrissant finished his breakfast, as Wheat helped dress his Master and go out into the House. Down the hall, down another corridor, and into the game room, where Dellios and Iudas were waiting for them, so Iudas could present Wheat to his next master. Socks listened as the footsteps vanished; Wheat's were inaudible against the thick carpet that muffled even Addrissant's steps. When he was certain they were gone, then, and only then, did Sock permit himself to whisper "Goodbye, Wheat," before he started to straighten up the bed-chamber.

He had nearly finished when Addrissant stumbled back into the room, followed a moment later by Dellios. The gold minotaur made his way over to the cabinet farthest from the fireplace, and pulled out a decanter of something pungent with anise and cardamom that the minotaur referred to as fortified brandy. He poured it into the one of the larger glasses -- meant for less potent beverages -- and gulped it down, ignoring Socks and even Dellios. Addrissant refilled the glass, and then -- almost in a daze -- managed to seat himself in the chair facing the windows, where he usually sat.

Socks had moved the breakfast-tray there, and Addrissant stared at it for a moment, before picking up the rose, now opened and showing crimson-ridged petals of pink that faded to a soft white at the flower's center. The gold minotaur set the rose back down into the vase, and then set his glass next to it.

Dellios gestured at Socks, who had paused folding the bed-dressings when the minotaur returned, and motioned with his hand, down.

Socks sank to his knees and waited.

Addrissant noticed none of this, but put his head in his hands, and a moment later Socks realized he was shaking.

Not shaking.

Crying.

Soundlessly, at least at first, and then Socks became aware of a low, plaintive sound coming from Addrissant. Uncertain, he glanced at Dellios, who simply stood, waiting for ... Socks didn't know what, but he certainly knew waiting when he saw it. It wasn't directed at him, which left ... Addrissant. Dellios was waiting for Addrissant.

The gold minotaur's voice, when he spoke, was broken. "This is what you meant."

"Yes," said Dellios.

"Why ..." and then Addrissant shook his head, and continued in that awful, broken voice. "We wouldn't have believed you."

"No," said Dellios, in a tone that somehow had understanding, but was bereft of sympathy or compassion.

"How ... how many times have you ..."

"Five," said Dellios, still in that odd, dispassionate tone. "It gets worse, each time."

Addrissant lifted his head, and stared at Dellios. "Worse?"

Dellios took a breath, and this time, just a hint of pain slipped through. "So I have thought."

"It is ..." the gold minotaur's voice trailed off. "I don't think I can imagine worse. This is ..." he stopped. "What have I done? Why ... why? Pride? Vanity?"

"Ignorance," said Dellios. "Inexperience."

"But you knew."

"Yes," said Dellios, and the emotion was gone again, even if Socks hadn't just imagined it. "And I know more."

"What more?"

"What you did was correct," Dellios said.

"No!" the rejection was immediate. "I cannot believe that! That was ..." Addrissant paused, searching for the right word, until he spat out, "betrayal," as if it were the bitterest curse he knew.

"It was not," said Dellios. "It merely felt that way."

"It was ..."

"Think," ordered Dellios. "Think it through. You knew. He knew. There was no betrayal."

"There_was!" insisted Addrissant, and then, more quietly, "I did ..." and then he buried his face in his hands. "Except ... you are right, too. There wasn't. But there was." Addrissant made a half-choked sobbing whimper. "How ... _five times? How can you do that?"

"Because I can," said Dellios, and then, more gently, "but that doesn't mean you can, Addrissant. If you cannot -- if you cannot even once bear it ..." Dellios paused. "I can help you bear it -- if you let me."

That sounded oddly familiar to Socks.

Addrissant sat up almost instantly, turning to face the green minotaur. "What ..."

Dellios faced Addrissant calmly. "I do not presume to judge what you can or cannot bear," he said. "There is a reason I am senior in the guild, Addrissant. It is no failure to fall. It has happened to good bulls before, and will happen to good bulls in the future. Part of my responsibility to you is to catch you." Dellios held out his hand. "I can help you bear it -- if you let me."

Oh. That's where Socks had heard it.

Addrissant just stared at Dellios for a long, long time. "I can't believe I'm tempted. I suppose -- could you? Really?"

"Yes," said Dellios. "I can."

"I ... don't see how."

"You must trust me."

Addrissant let out a groan. "I am so ... but ..." he slumped over again. "This is agony. If I say no, am I just refusing to open my eyes?"

"How am I to know if you do not?" said Dellios. "Can you come to terms with abandoning Wheat?"

"Clever," said Addrissant.

"It is meant to be helpful."

"And I suppose it is," sighed Addrissant. "It does not feel bearable, but ... my opinion may well change tomorrow."

"Very well," said Dellios. "My offer remains open."

Addrissant flinched. "I thank you for your grandfatherly kindness."

"Yes," said Dellios, and then, "You are welcome."