Nine of Wands-Tarot- The Staircase Page 6

  If Trinity noticed, he didn’t say. He just fell backwards on the floor, sprawled there on the heels of his hands. He raised one arm and drew it across his mouth. “It’s over,” he said, while Tristan tried seriously to bring himself under control.

  Trinity got up and sauntered back to that sofa. He reached down and poured himself another drink and quietly turned to the window. “I’ve done what my ancestors haven’t done for centuries, Tristan. I’ve lost Celestial Ridge. I’ve lost my heritage.”

  Tristan licked the salty tears off his mouth. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t understand. You’re still Emperor. You’re still…”

  He turned around, none too steadily and drained his glass. “We lost the war. We lost everything, and so I negotiated with those bastards, asked them to show mercy to those who are left here. When they arrive, Celest and Herits alike may remain, or leave without fearing for their safety.”

  “The Herits as well?” Tristan was surprised. “Why, when we’ve been at…”

  “Don’t you know?” he scoffed.

  “I don’t know anything anymore. When the gasses were released, my people…”

  “And now mine,” he quipped. “I guess Daddy didn’t think the gasses would ever permeate these altitudes, at least that’s what your scientists said. Where do you think the technology came from, Tristan? Everyone has a price.”

  Tristan sunk down against the wall, his pants still hovering around his ankles. He placed his thighs together, pulled his knees up, suddenly self conscious.

  “No need to hide yourself,” Trinity said softly. “I’ve memorized your body, every inch of it.”

  Tristan glanced up at him.

  “You look surprised. You want to believe that only you have suffered.”

  “I never…” Tristan began. He didn’t want to talk about feelings. “When will they come?”

  “Soon.”

  “And what will you do?”

  “I will have to stay. I promised to…” He laughed harshly. “They will need my guidance.”

  “Don’t trust your uncle, Trinity. He…”

  He put up a hand. “I know.” He stopped talking.

  These long pauses overflowed with pain.

  “You will stay with me tonight,” Trinity said suddenly.

  “No,” came the reply.

  “It was not a request.”

  Tristan met his gaze. “So it’s to be like this.”

  “Yes,” the words were harsh, “it’s to be like this. I’m drunk and I need, and for some reason I believe that being here with you will allow me to forget for a little while. You can cooperate or not. It makes no difference to me.”

  “You haven’t changed. You always did take what you wanted, just like your father.”

  He sneered at him. “I’m nothing like my father.” He moved past him now to the door and called the guard.

  Tristan tensed, not sure what Trinity had in mind. He could be quite unpredictable when he drank.

  The guard appeared, prepared to remove him from the room. “No,” Trinity said. “I want you to take those irons off his ankles.”

  “Emperor, I don’t advise….”

  “Do as you’re told. You’re not here to advise anyone! Take off the irons, and his clothes. Attach his tied wrists to that beam over there beside the bed.”

  The guard smirked. “Yes, Sir. And would you like me to…?”

  “Wipe that look off your face. Do what I asked you to do, then leave.”

  The guard pulled him to his feet as Trinity disappeared. He leered at him, making no secret of running his gaze over his half naked body. “You know, cleaned up, you’re quite an eyeful. It’s been awhile since I’ve had me some prime Herit ass.”

  Tristan met his gaze. “I swear, you look at me sideways and I’ll kill you.” He meant it.

  He laughed in Tristan’s face as he dragged him over beside the bed. He began to undo the shackles at his feet, deliberately letting his hands roam over his ass. “The Emperor is going to do much more than look at you before the nights through.”

  Tristan wiggled away from him at every opportunity, swearing at him. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

  Trinity walked back in suddenly. He was wearing a purple robe, tied tightly at the waist. There was a half drunk bottle of liquor in his hand. Gruffly, he told the guard to hurry up.

  The guard swiftly lifted Tristan’s shackled wrists, and connected them together to the beam over head. Tristan’s feet just touched the floor. Before he left, he paused, ran his gaze over him, then, casually ripped the shirt from his back.

  Trinity walked over to the bed and sprawled on it, on his back. Teetering up on his elbows, he ran his gaze over him and lifted the bottle to his lips.

  Tristan was angry, but at the same time, he was sexually aroused. Unfortunately he wasn’t very good at hiding either. “Purple? How fucking appropriate,” he scowled at Trinity, who allowed his legs to fall open. Tristan could see his erection quite clearly now. He wrenched his gaze away.

  “The colour of royalty.” Trinity laughed slightly. “Don’t I look royal to you, Tristan?” He ran his gaze over him lecherously.

  “Very,” Tristan replied dryly. “The way you’re laying there, your legs spread open, drunk as a whore…you’d do many a king proud.”

  Trinity found this funny apparently because he threw back his blond head and laughed.

  “I’m glad I amuse you.”

  Trinity sobered. “And you’re about to amuse me even more,” he said, sitting up. “I locked the door. I told them we’re not to be disturbed. We have all night. It might be the only night I have left, so…” He trailed off, and managed to stand up on his feet after the second attempt. “So,” he said coming closer, “let’s play…‘he loves me, he loves me not‘, shall we?”

  Chapter Six

  Trinity clung to him drunkenly. If Tristan’s emotions hadn’t been tied up in knots, he might have laughed at him. He was far too inebriated to do too much damage but his nearness was painful because he still loved him so much, in spite of everything.

  Trinity gave him a sloppy kiss, running his hands over his naked flesh. He was blubbering something which didn’t make much sense. Finally he went down on his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs. Tristan thought he had passed out at one point. He moved his legs, trying to dislodge him, only to have Trinity look up at him with bloodshot eyes and say, “Look at us.”

  Tristan sighed. “This is ridiculous. Why don’t you,” Tristan pulled at his restraints, “get me out of this and…”

  “You’ll leave me.”

  “Where in hell would I go?” It was clear who had the upper hand, in spite of what it looked like. Trinity was way too drunk to be making any sense, and it was clear from his expression that whatever will he had was slowly draining away. “Come on, Trinity.” He pulled again at the chain which was looped over the overhead beam.

  Trinity pulled himself up, then, with a sigh, he reached up and unhooked Tristan’s wrists. Tristan grunted with relief as Trinity walked back over to the bed and sat down.

  Tristan held out his arms. “Take these off.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I can’t even do this right.”

  “Do what right? Rape a prisoner?”

  “Fuck you, Tristan,” he mumbled. “Damn your hide. I curse the day we met.”

  Tristan swallowed. “Really?”

  “I hate loving you but it’s not your fault.”

  “That’s good to know,” Tristan sneered. “Whose fucking fault is it?”

  Trinity started to laugh. “Fate,” he said, then started to laugh again, rolling on the bed.

  “You are so drunk.”

  “Yes,” he said, sobering. “I’ve watched my entire life crumble in front of my eyes, not to mention the destruction of two people who once lived in harmony. I’ve killed my friends and neighbours and there’s not a hell of a lot left of my heart.�
�� He sat up and met his gaze. “You’d be drunk too.”

  “Oh, I have been,” Tristan replied, walking across the floor to the window. “I’ve been good and drunk many times. I’ve seen the same things as you, and as much as I’ve tried to find the answers, they’ve eluded me.” He turned and looked at Trinity. “Do you know the answer?”

  “I know many answers,” he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “To which question?”

  Tristan shivered a little. He walked closer to the bed. “Can I have that blanket?”

  Trinity picked it up and threw it at him.

  “Can you…?” With the shackles, he was unable to put the blanket around him.

  Trinity pushed himself off the bed. Taking the blanket in his hand, he reached up and clumsily threw it around Tristan’s shoulders. Tristan clutched the edges and held it in front of him, and Trinity moved away.

  “I asked my father often what had happened between him and…?” Tristan began.

  Trinity held up a hand. “It is better you don’t know.”

  “Why? You know, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I knew about it for a long time. Maybe because I was older than you and when they met, it was usually here, in this room actually.”

  Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Met here for what?”

  “People always said they were like brothers, Reed and Stuben.” Trinity spoke as if to himself. “They were far more than that.”

  Tristan gasped. “No, you’re lying.”

  “I saw them.” He sat back down on the bed. “I caught them together.”

  Tristan fell back against the wall. “Lovers.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “And did your mother know? Did mine?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe.”

  “So, what…?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked up at him again. “One of them decided to end it, and the other reacted. I don’t know who but…I suspect my Uncle had something to do with their separation, but I can’t prove it.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Tristan breathed. “You’re telling me that all this was over a…lovers quarrel?”

  “Basically, yes. Love sucks, doesn’t it?”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a rumour, as far as people are concerned. My uncle likes to tell anyone who will listen. Does it matter now? They’re both dead. They destroyed each other just like…” He paused, giving Tristan a sad smile.

  “You walked out on me,” Tristan said between clenched teeth.

  “You let me walk out,” Trinity accused, the anger bubbling to the surface. “I would have done anything for you but…”

  “I tried to see you. I came up here and…”

  “When?”

  “About a week later. I…” he stopped, closing his eyes.

  “I was gone,” he said softly. “My father sent me away to a military training school on Zenbares. He was determined to keep us apart, maybe he…didn’t want me to get my heart broken. I don’t know.” He sighed. “Maybe he wanted me to be as miserable as he turned out to be.”

  Tristan opened his eyes again.

  Tears ran down Trinity’s cheeks now. “I wasn’t here when the gasses…I didn’t know, Tristan. I never spoke to my father after that. It was the reason I didn’t come home for his funeral. All I could think was that he’d killed you. He’d killed my love.”

  “I thought you…” Tristan couldn’t bear to see Trinity cry. “Please don’t. You have to realise how much I loved you, how much I still…do.”

  Trinity stood up and closed the distance between them. He pressed his forehead to Tristan’s, his hands on both sides of his face. “Shush,” he told him, when Tristan went to speak. “Don’t.” Holding his face he moved his head back, searching the expression in his eyes for a moment, then he pressed his mouth against his, kissing him first tenderly, then hotly. Tristan went rearing back against the wall as the blanket fell away from his shoulders. He felt Trinity’s arms wrap around him, as they continued to kiss, their hot tears mingling together on their lips.

  “God, Trinity, get these things off of me,” Tristan urged, jiggling the chains on his wrists.

  Trinity grabbed his wrists then with a slight laugh, he shook his head. “I would but I don’t have the key,” he said.

  Tristan let his head go back against the wall and then he started to laugh. Trinity laid his head against his chest, and started to laugh with him.

  A few minutes later, they moved to the bed because Trinity looked as if he were going to fall over. Tristan managed to pick up the blanket and as soon as they lay down together, Trinity closed his eyes, emotionally exhausted.. He fell asleep there with his head on Tristan’s shoulder. Tristan managed to pull the blanket up over them, and shortly after, he fell asleep as well.

  * * * *

  When Tristan opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself alone. He was thirsty, and the blanket that he had covering him was gone. He went to move and found that his arms had been raised over his head and shackled to the bedpost. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Trinity?” He struggled against the constraints, but it was no use. “Trinity!”

  He wasn’t sure how long he lay there before the door opened and Trinity walked in. He had washed, and put on his military garb. Apparently he had recovered from his drunkenness. He walked over to the head of the bed and made a production out of running his gaze over his body. “You know,” he said, “I never dreamed you’d turn into such a beautiful man. You were a cute boy, but…” He smiled.

  “What is this? Last night I thought…”

  “You took advantage of a drunk,” he laughed as if it were a joke. “I can’t just let you run around. It will make me look weak. It’s either this, or return you to the prison, and I don’t want to do that.”

  “Look weak to whom? You said yourself that there is no…”

  “Yes, but I can’t let my people know that…yet.” He came over and sat beside him on the bed. He reached out a hand and ran it over Tristan’s chest. “Too bad I wasn’t able to do anything about…well…” He withdrew his hand. “In battle, Celest warriors often took sex slaves. It was expected really. It’s my only way to keep you safe, Tristan. My uncle urged me to execute you this morning.” He looked fearful. “I will do what I must to keep you safe.”

  Tristan swore under his breath.

  “Come on now, that’s not nice.”

  “Trinity!”

  “No talk,” he met his gaze, then got up. “Someone will be in to prepare you. Bear with me, this will all be over soon.”

  “Prepare me for what?” Tristan spat.

  “For me. You’ll have food, water, be bathed and adorned and…”

  “You can’t be serious,” Tristan growled. “Celest warriors did that sort of thing back in the dark ages.”

  “Yes, but you forget, Tristan, my love,” he whispered, “we haven’t been at war for a long time, and the Celest need to see a bit of culture. It’s time to revive tradition…at least while I’m still at the helm.” He smirked at him and then Tristan heard his boots pounding across the floor. The door closed.

  God, he had forgotten how quirky Trinity could be. Once when they were younger, Tristan had played this game with him where he had been his captive and… He suddenly felt himself go hard. God. Trinity had gotten him so hot. A smile played over his lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all…but how much of this was a game, and how much of it was for real? One thing he knew, these cuffs were for real.

  A few minutes later, a woman entered. She gave him water and food, but she didn’t remove the cuffs. Then she washed him from top to bottom. “You will be oiled,” she said softly, “prepared for the Emperor’s pleasure.”

  Oiled? She left him. He dozed for awhile, then, two men entered. One of them released his arms from the bed and then removed the wrist cuffs. “If you are disobedient,” one of them said, “you will be beaten.”

  “Won’t be the first time,” he said, eyeing th
e man.

  “Turn around and place your hands against the wall,” the other one said. He had a small bottle of something in his hands.

  Tristan did as he was told.

  “Spread your legs wide,” he barked.

  This marvelous aroma invaded his senses and the man began to rub the oil into his skin, across his nipples, into his cock, his testicles and between his ass cheeks. Tristan was hard as rock when he finally moved away from him.

  “Turn around,” the man told him.

  Tristan did so, self-consciously, all too aware that his cock was standing at attention.

  “Seems you liked that,” the man smirked, wrapping a gold cock ring around his scrotum. “Too bad I’m not allowed to do something about it.”

  Tristan sucked in some breath as the man tightened the strap around the base of his cock.

  “Now, the nipples,” he muttered, reaching out and pinching both his nipples, and enjoying it immensely.

  “Shit,” Tristan grunted, as he quickly attached a dangling diamond stud clamp to one nipple, then the other. They only served to increase the pressure in his cock.

  “You’re not to touch yourself until the Emperor arrives,” one of them said. “We’re watching you.”

  And they did. They both stood watch, taking turns for close to an hour. Tristan thought he’d go mad from the sensations shooting through his cock and his nipples. He hadn’t felt such wanton lust since he was nineteen years old. It didn’t help that one of the men kept talking about how the Emperor planned to have his way with him, and even decided to go into detail at one point. It was clear the two men were enjoying seeing him on display like that, and they were almost as hard as he was. At one point he thought one of those men was going to come over to where he was sitting on the bed and start touching him, but he didn’t. Part of him would have welcomed it.