Medieval Slash

Krames

Krames

Knight of the Void
Original poster
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  1. 1-3 posts per week
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  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Adaptable
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Pretty open to things as long as I have enough knowledge to work with.
Theodore Hawkins was late. He was very late. Last night's festivities at both the pub and the brothel kept him in bed until ten minutes ago. He should have been tending to the prince hours ago. Theodore wouldn't be in a snit about being late if he were in a more secure position, but he wasn't. Theodore was an easily replaceable servant for the prince. He wasn't anything special at all. Theodore was awed that he hadn't been replaced yet. The prince didn't mind his tardiness, but his father, the king, did.

Theodore walked calmly, at an esteemed pace towards the prince's quarters, passing several other servants along the way. He didn't run because it was unseemly to do so in such a place, but he did have a quicker pace than most. When he made it to the prince's inner most quarters where his bedchamber was, he started grabbing dirty clothes and piling them for easier carry. He should have done this hours ago, along with many other chores. Such as, righting the bed, dressing the prince, making his bath, bringing him his breakfast and running through his itenerary, cleaning out the bedpan, and bringing in his armor. Theodore awaited punishment as he hurriedly tried to do his chores.
 
Prince Peter Fournier was not an impatient man. He was also not a particularly early riser, which was why he barely noticed the missing servant. He just lay in his bed, the light tunic in which he slept covering his body for at least an hour longer than it should have done. However, after a while he did rise, yawning and stretching as he stepped out of bed under his own steam. His shaggy ebony hair was an absolute mess, as it usually was if left to the prince to care for. Although hair wasn't the most important part of being a prince, he still couldn't look too uncouth if he wanted to find himself a wife.

Without Theodore, it took Peter rather longer than it would normally to get dressed, but he still managed it. He wasn't an idiot, and would not have relied on his servant, had it not been expected of him. The prince liked doing things for himself, not that he ever had much opportunity to do so. For now, the green eyed prince moved out to the balcony of his chambers, waiting for Theodore to appear. He waited in his chambers as he was well aware that if he appeared in his rough state, his father would know Theodore had not tended to him, and the servant would be beaten severely.

Thankfully, he only had to wait a short while. "Theodore." Peter stated, still groggy, seeing as he didn't really wake up until the afternoon, unless there was something specific for him to do. "Father didn't see you, did he?" Not to mention any of the other gossipy servants. Peter was genuinely concerned, he had no desire for Theodore to suffer on his account.
 
"No, Prince." Theodore responded carefully, head bowed. "I apologize for my absence this morning. The victory of your father's army called for a celebration. It went on far into the night." And far into the morning as well, but Theodore let that drop. No need to give away too much information. "Have you had your breakfast yet?" He asked as he stripped the bed of linens and started to make the bed freshly. "Or your bath?" He continued with the bed until he thought it was perfect.

Theodore sorted out the clothes and linens, making separate piles for the handmaids to wash. He went over to the windows and made sure the air and light was coming in nicely, opening the balcony doors too. "Nice fresh air does everyone good is what my Nan used to say," he said absently as he turned to face the young ruler.
 
He understood the explanation. Indeed, the nobles had gathered in the great hall, and much merriment had been made. Peter had actually become a little tipsy himself, though he had gone up to bed shortly after his fuzzy head had become apparent. He was not the most outgoing man in the world. "You have earned it. No need to apologise." Peter smiled. He wasn't as formal with his personal servant as he should have been, he wasn't even too callous to the rest of the staff. He was a prince with the common touch, something his father sadly lacked. He ruled relatively kindly, but did not show this personally to the citizens. They were underlings, nothing more.

"I am afraid I have not eaten, or bathed. I thought your absence might be noticed if I did." He rubbed the back of his head, feeling a little embarrassed. If he was honest, who also wasn't entirely sure how to go about bathing himself. Whenever he did, the water was already prepared at a perfect temperature, and he had never thought to question how this was done. "Your nan was a wise woman." He admitted, having always enjoyed the benefits of the outdoors.
 
Theodore bowed his head at Peter's first words. "You're too kind, majesty." He looked to the ground even as he said it, knowing he didn't deserve it. Peter's kindness was admirable, something he showed to everyone he met. He was so unlike his father in someways that Theodore almost forgot that he was the prince sometimes. Peter was almost too human. He looked up at the prince when his questions were answered.

With a small smile playing at his lips, Theodore nodded. "I'll return with your breakfast and draw your bath," he dismissed himself from the prince's presence. Theodore left Peter's bedchamber and his whole private quarters swiftly. He was still slightly rushed, but he was more relaxed about it, grateful that he hadn't had a run-in with the king or his knights. He scurried down to the kitchens and picked up a fresh breakfast tray with a piture of water and a goblet and a few of the prince's favorite foods.

When the tray was filled, Theodore started back to the prince's quarters. He let his mind wander as he went back to the prince, he knew the castle like the back of his hand, and often let his mind wander as he went back down pathways and corridors that he frequented. It was odd to think that he and the prince were around the same age. Him and royalty were almost born on the same day. It was strange and yet it wasn't. Peter was exceedingly kind and bright, definitely more commoner-friendly than his father. That was odd, too. How could father and son be so different?

Theodore came back to the prince's bedchamber and set his breakfast out on his desk. "Here you are, majesty." He took the pitcher and poured some water into the goblet for the prince before he went to retrieve the tub and chamberpot.
 
The prince was of course more than glad to allow Theodore to take his leave, and as he waited he sat himself down at his desk, rubbing his face with his hands for a minute, still trying to wake himself up a bit more. It didn't work. By the time Theodore returned, Peter was almost asleep again, though of course he did his best to mask this. Even so, he started properly awake with a slight jerk, somehow managing to bash his shin on the leg of the desk. "Ah! Ow..." He muttered feebly, rubbing his now sore leg. It was a bit pathetic for a man that would one day be the king, and was already shaping up to be an excellent soldier, but at least only he and Theodore would know about it.

Regaining his composure, but still blushing a little, Peter smiled up at his servant, attempting to appear nonchalant, and failing miserably at it. "Uh, thankyou." He said as his breakfast was set out before him. He tucked into the various hunks of bread, fruits and meats, though he didn't wolf it down like some might have. He wasn't one to gorge himself too much, and so by the time he was finished with his meal, just under half of it remained.

Now that he had eaten, Peter stood, turning around as he could already feel the piping hot water that Theodore had so kindly prepared for him. Peter walked over, and wordlessly stripped himself of his tunic and leather leggings. He was a well muscled man, but not overly so, he was still capable of agility and speed when it was required of him, although of course he was not always successful. He bore many small scars over his otherwise untainted skin, and one large scar that extended from shoulder to hip, and even now was sensitive. Of course, he didn't think about this. Theodore had seen him nude before, and so he simply slipped into the tub, reclining there quite happily.
 
Theodore knew his prince inside and out. He'd been serving him ever since they were young and both learning the ropes. He knew the way that the prince liked his bath, hot as it could be. It was helpful to any sore muscles the prince may have and Theodore made sure to make it just a tad hotter when the prince had been practicing or training. Especially when Peter had been out hunting in case he returned with injuries of some type. It was Theodore's only fear that Peter would return to him one day badly injured with no cure because he was so kind, unlike so many other noble sons and daughters.

Theodore grabbed a rag and dipped it into the water for a second before removing it to wash the other male. He started with the now bruising knee, rubbing the cloth carefully around where the bruise would form later. "You should be more careful, Prince," he said with a small smile. "You may be a great knight, but the table is going to win every time," he teased, knowing he could get away with it and maybe get to hear the prince's laugh. It was a great sound, one that Theodore aimed to hear every day just to brighten his own mood.

After a moment of washing the angry red injury, Theodore moved on, the cloth coming up across Peter's muscled chest and washing around both nipples before coming up over his shoulders. Peter's baths were part of Theodore's favorite memory files, the ones he thought of when he went to the brothel or when he was alone by himself. They were very stimulating situations. Theodore's cloth traveled up Peter's neck getting the back of it, too. He washed his prince carefully and very generously. As he finished the top half of his prince, the cloth slipper lower again to clean the prince's more private areas. These were the memories that Theodore locked in on the most. Especially since both boys were both at that age now where they experimented with themselves when they were alone.
 
The water was very nearly too hot, but of course that was just how Peter liked it. He wasn't one to live on the edge, but apparently in this instance he really did enjoy just being on the cusp of pain. It was perfect. However, he did wince as Theodore tended to his rather pathetic injury, though it wasn't long before he did laugh in response to the servants words. "I suppose that's true. Shameful, isn't it?" He was relaxed enough to admit that, and it was a privilege he only granted to Theodore. He saw him at his most vulnerable, and as such probably knew him as no one else could.

Peter closed his eyes as he enjoyed the ministrations of his servant. He was firm, but never too rough. He supposed that he had long since learnt how to behave around the prince, they were all but joined at the hip. Of course, he had never thought anything of this closeness, it was a working relationship. Peter did view his servant as a great friend, which was more than could be said of most servants, but that was as far as he had ever thought on it.

Surprisingly, today things were slightly different. As Theodore began to wash his nether regions more thoroughly, Pete had to admit he felt an ever so slight stirring there. Of course, he quickly spoke, "Uh, I think I'm clean enough, don't you?" He was blushing slightly, he never had been good at dealing with the unexpected.
 
Theodore chuckled with Peter, stopping his hand for a moment. "Ah, it is, but you're still young, it'll be our little secret." He winked at Peter before going back to cleaning the other male absently. He let his mind wander for a bit before he heard the prince's next words. He'd felt the stirring under the cloth and his hand. He looked down in the water, he could see his hand and the cloth, distorted by the water.

"Oh? Aren't I the one to say when you're clean or not?" He asked, suddenly feeling very bold about the prince. Now that he could feel the prince beneath him, he wanted him. Wanted to please his prince. "And I say you're not clean yet." His eyes met the prince's as his hand continued to move with the cloth.
 
What had begun as only a mild pink blush was rapidly spreading over his cheeks, deepening to a more glaring red. Peter was well used to speaking casually with Theodore, but the boldness with which he spoke this time was just unheard of. No doubt, had anyone else been on the receiving end of this, the servant would have been either flayed within an inch of his life, dismissed, or both. But, Peter didn't have that in him. He wasn't even angry, he was just embarrassed.

"Theodore...I...I'm sure I'm clean." He had to swallow quite hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. And speaking of hard things, much to his dismay, thanks to the increased attention, he continued to stir under the insistent touch. He half went to leap out of the bath, but then again, he didn't want to turn what might (in his head at least) be a simple misunderstanding into a massive issue. He was a pretty naive man. He had bedded few women, and those occassions had been under the pressure of his fellow knights.
 
Theodore shushed the prince, taking in the sight of the blush. He knew the difference between Peter's angry blush and Peter's embarrassed blush. He'd been serving the prince for the better part of his life, he'd learned a lot about the other male along the way. He knew that Peter was embarrassed, but if he could just show him that it would be okay, that he could trust Theodore, then maybe he'd let it go. "Shush, majesty. It's alright. I've always taken care of you, haven't I?" He asked quietly, voice low. Of course, he had. Theodore had been there when Prince Peter had first gotten hurt by a sword and for the worst scar of all. He'd cared for him the whole time. "You can trust that I'll care for you just the same now." All the while, his hand slowed a bit to a more gentle pace, to soothe the other male and quell his fears. "I'd never hurt you." ((OCC: sorry this is late and short, I just got home and I'm on my laptop.))
 
Peter had always trusted Theodore implicitly, and without ever questioning him, and a part of him wanted to continue that now. But these feelings rising inside him were so alien that he could barely keep himself under even the loosest control. He squirmed slightly, causing some of the water to splash out of the filled tub, though after a moment or two he managed to hold himself still. He wanted to trust Theodore, he really did, it was just easier said than done.

"Theodore...this isn't, I'm not..." He was struggling to find the right words, particularly as his downstairs brain seemingly had a mind of its own and was actively begging for attention. Being as uptight as he was, it was no surprise really that his member was becoming engorged, despite the resistance the prince was attempting to show. He had never been touched with the tenderness that Theodore showed him, and this was only adding to the difficulties of the situation.
 
Something flashed in Theodore's eyes, whether or not that was his understanding or his patience was questionable. Theodore himself was at a crossroads. Should he be more firm or back off? This was a position he found himself in quite a number of times, he'd always backed down and became more docile. This time was different, though. This was something more, something he felt he needed to keep pushing or he'd lose his nerve. He didn't want to anger the prince, though. He was pushing too much too fast. This lust and unbelievable amount of anger that seemed to come from nowhere inside of Theodore had taken over. He wasn't sure if he wanted to stop it. As his mind battled with itself, Theodore's hand slowed more, to it's usual washing pace. He couldn't quite make up his mind. This time, he decided, he'd let the prince go. As for the next time, he wasn't sure he'd be able to pass up such an offer. Theodore moved his hand back to washing the prince's thighs and legs, going all the way down to his feet.

"Please, majesty, forgive me." Theodore begged, his eyes downcast and away from the prince. "I have no idea what came over me," he said after a moment of silence. "I understand if you want to have me punished or dismissed." He removed his hand and the cloth from the water, bowing his head in shame about what he did.
 
Despite the fact that this attention from his servant had caused Peter to become extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed, he almost regretted causing Theodore to stop. It wasn't because he wanted the careful touch to continue (or so he told himself), he just hated to rebuff his great friend, and really didn't feel right causing such an upset. But it was done now, and he could not change what had already passed.

He did, however, quite affectionately place his hand on the back of the other mans neck. It was an innocent enough gesture, a reassuring touch that Peter hoped would help his servant feel at least a little better. "It is forgotten. I wouldn't dream of having you reprimanded." And that was the truth, the closeness the two felt was not displayed publicly, but it was still very much there. "Besides, if I had you replaced, who would protect me from my desk?" He smiled, though the expression was a little forced still, the memory of the touch still lingered, whether or not he would admit it.
 
Theodore stayed still, awaiting his judgement patiently. He prayed to every deity that he knew that Peter would stay his merciful self and not have him slayed within an inch of his life. Sure, they'd become what Theodore considered friends, but Peter was still his prince, the one that he obeyed. He was the servant to Peter's royalty. Theodore was nothing more than a servant's son, raised in the castle by his Nan who took him in when his mother could no longer keep him sheltered and fed. All his life, Theodore had been poor and beneath royalty, Peter changed his ideas of nobles when he began serving him. At first, Theodore had tried to hate the other boy, but that proved impossible when Peter continued to show him only kindness, not once raising a hand or whip to him. That changed Theodore's tune with him.

Theodore relaxed under the prince's hand, his head still bowed, but relief strumming through his body. A warmth rose with that relief and calmed all of Theodore's fears, of course the prince's behavior had never changed. He was still the gratuitous, sweet boy he'd always been. Forever caring about his pupils. Theodore slowly raised his head. "I am undeserving of your kindness, majesty." He slowly smiled. "But rest assured that no table shall ever cause you harm while you're in my care, Prince."
 
There was still a tenuous air in the room, but it was dissipating quickly. Peter had not forgotten the incident, but the thought of it did not cause anger in him, it only led to a rising heat in his cheeks that he could not quite control. With luck those thoughts would trickle away along with the tension, though now those seeds had been planted it was unlikely that they would be completely eradicated. The prince just did his best to ignore them for now, instead focusing on the present situation.

Now that the bath was most definitely over, Peter rose from the water, dripping quite profusely, of course. He stood for a moment, speaking to the young servant kindly, "Of course you deserve it. You have served me well, I would be a fool not to appreciate you." He answered without thinking, because he believed all life should be respected. He was far too kindhearted for his own good, and although he could manage open warfare, it was unlikely he would ever be able to harm a prisoner of war, or even an animal. He only tolerated practical harm to others, only when it was 'us or them' and the heat of battle was scorching.
 
Theodore didn't let his mind wander back to what he'd just done to his very gracious ruler. The person so above him on the totem pole that he shouldn't even be able to see Theodore. Yet he did see Theodore, more than that he saw Theodore as an equal. It meant more than the other male could ever say that he had such an amazing prince to serve. Such a kind and amazing young man, Theodore hope he lived long enough to see Peter rise up to take the throne after his father. That will be an amazing and historic day, indeed. Hopefully, Peter would keep Theodore on as his personal servant when he accepted the crown from his father.

Theodore stood up as Peter did, grabbing a larger cloth to dry the prince off with. He bowed his head again, in thanks to Peter's kind words. "Thank you, my prince," he responded properly, his gratitude showing in his voice. "You will be a great king one day," he smiled to his prince as he began to dry his body off gently. "I have forgotten your armor in the armory last night where I had polished it, will you be okay to dress yourself?" He asked as he dried the prince's hair. "Forgive me for my poor memory."
 
Peter stood still as he was thoroughly dried off, and soon enough the job was done. When Theodore mentioned the lack of armour, Peter had only to shake his head. There was no need for him to say that there was no need to apologise. The few mistakes the servant did make were never anything all that grand, and Peter always made sure that no one but the two of them knew about it. He would always protect his servant, even if to most of his calibre the boy would be nothing but a tool to be used.

The prince did dress himself, and when Theodore returned with his armour, he allowed himself to be clad in the plate metal. He was to fight in a tournament today, and so for once really needed the protection. He was hotly tipped to win, and indeed was expected to do so. So far he had won all that he had entered, and would be punished by his father, should he be bested. It was a brutal way of treating ones son, but the king was a brutal man, unlike his son.
 
Theodore was quiet when he returned, letting silence reign except for the clanking of the armor when placed upon the prince and secured properly. When it was done, Theodore stepped back a respectful distance, bowing his head to await his prince's command. "If there is anything I can do for you, you need only ask it of me," it was a well rehearsed line, one taught to all of those slaves that served nobles. He'd said it countless times, but never with the nervous quiver in his voice as it was this time. In truth, he was scared for the prince. One of the lower servants had gossiped about Peter's challenger in the kitchens the other night when he'd gone to retrieve the prince's dinner. Rumor served that his challenger, Ser McKenzie, was a brute with tricks up his sleeves. He was a cheat, but Theodore knew that the prince had been told it would be an easy win.

Theodore did not envy Peter under his father's wrath, but he'd be there the moment Peter was disposed of in his chambers. He'd be there to clean and care for the new wounds, nurse the boy prince back to health. Theodore kept his head bowed out of respect and to hide his fear for his friend. The only friend he'd ever had except for, Herman, the rat that lived in his quarters. Theodore was praying to all the deities that Peter won or escaped unscathed at the very least. He was almost certain that wouldn't be the case, though.
 
Once dressed in all his armour, Peter smiled at Theodore, "I know, all I ask of you today is that you relax. Take some time for yourself until I return." He knew that his servant worked hard, and seeing as he would be engaged in various rounds of the tournament throughout the day, he thought that now would be a good time to let the boy rest.

Peter left shortly after this, and throughout the day fought various knights of the realm, fending them all off without difficulty. As the sun was setting, the final battle of the day came about. The combatants had been whittled down to just the prince and the brutal Ser McKenzie. The spectators were silent as the two entered the arena, both having discarded the helmets as the sun was now low enough to obscure their vision. Of course, the moment their swords clashed, the crowds erupted in a foray of cheers.

They battled for what seemed an age, neither giving any ground, until finally the knight took it upon himself to discard any sense of chivalry, taking a handful of dirt and hastily throwing it in the eyes of the prince. Peter instinctively rubbed at his eyes with a free hand, giving Ser McKenzie the only opportunity he needed to ram the pommel of his sword into the princes head, immediately bringing him to the floor. Moments later, the tournament was declared won, and Peter was disgraced.

It was many hours before Peter returned to his chambers. He had spent a long while with his father, his bruised temple becoming an ever deeper purple as the closed wound stagnated. This time was spent in silence on Peter's part, the king bellowing curses at him as he flayed the boy, soon bloodying his pale back. Of course, he took it without complaint, and once released from this punishment, he strode to his chamber wordlessly. The welts on his body continued to bleed, and his head throbbed violently, but he did not complain as he entered his rooms, seating himself on the edge of his luxurious bed. He sighed deeply, feeling rather dejected and useless.
 
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