I've decided. My hands are weird. They type weird stuff. :O
Strange Fates
Chapter 19 - Captors and Captive
Charles paced, waiting for the Assassin boy to emerge from his quarters.
It had been a trying couple of days, with suitors dropping in left and right (though Charles was glad to see that James had not been one of them). Charles had been surprised that a few of them had even gained Master Kenway’s permission to court his son.
There were no weak Alphas or stupid Alphas, but the appearance of Gerhard at his door had caused shivers to go up even his spine.
And the way the Hessian had stared at the wide-eyed and unarmed Omega, pale with anger and fear...
Charles hated to admit it, but if anyone could utterly cow the boy, it was likely to be Gerhard. OF course, it wasn’t like that there would be anything left of the Assassin once he finished with him.
Gerhard was sadistic when it came to their enemies, and it was highly doubtful that the boy would survive the man’s...attentions if, by some reason, Master Kenway took leave of his senses and gave the boy to him.
At least that was something Charles didn’t have to worry about. The boy looked as if he wanted to cling to Charles to escape Gerhard’s malicious gaze.
Gerhard might as well be driving Charles’s suit for him.
Charles had found Gerhard afterwards and warned him not to come near the Omega. His was a suit that Charles would not be allowing, no matter what Master Kenway said about the matter.
After all the excitement after Gerhard’s visit, the boy claimed fatigue and retreated to his room. He had not made an appearance since, and Charles was beginning to suspect that the boy had escaped somehow.
Impossible with the number of guards he’d stationed around the perimeter of his house (and the boy’s weapons were with Master Kenway besides), but the thought surfaced in Charles’s mind and just would not disappear.
So when he heard the click-clack of boots making their way down the staircase, Charles breathed a sigh of relief, turned to greet the boy...
...and stared.
He’d known the Assassin would clean up well once he was out of that infernal white outfit, but...
A small voice in the back of his head wondered if this was the reason Biddle was positively salivating over the boy. If this was the reason that someone like Gerhard would decide to court him.
The boy could not wear the same clothes every day so, in preparation for when the boy would become his wife, Charles had arranged for a pieces of clothing to be tailored for him. He’d arranged for the servants to lay out one of those he was told was quite similar to the boy’s captain uniform.
He’d been curious as to how the boy would appear, and when he turned and caught sight of him...
A succubus. The boy was a succubus.
His body was lean and slender, his legs long and fine. He was wholly transformed and looked...looked...
He looked as elegant and beautiful and commanding as Master Kenway had that first day he set foot in the colonies.
Charles wanted to ravish him.
Charles unconsciously licked his lips, then shook his head.
As much as he would love to pin the boy to the ground and have him, Master Kenway had forbidden it of him.
It was to be his punishment for his earlier transgressions, and he must suffer it.
But oh, how he wished he had not been asked that.
How he wished Master Kenway had acquiesced to his pleas to keep the boy, after the child was born.
There was always the chance that the boy would decide on one of the other Templars, just to spite him, and he would then forever lose the mother of his only child.
It was a thought that could not be borne.
He may not be the most kind or generous of Alphas, but he cared for the idea of family. He had a happy childhood with his own parents, and it was his fondest wish to extend that to his son or daughter, Alpha or Omega.
Family mattered to him. Blood mattered to him, and for it to be his fault that his child was deprived of a mother...
“You do not look very well.”
Charles started, staring at the boy who deigned to speak to him for the first time since he was first brought to Charles’s house.
He seemed to have gotten over his earlier fear of Gerhard.
“It is not easy to win this war.”
The boy did not look surprised.
“Allow the commander to do what he must, and the war will be won speedily.”
Charles’s mood soured immediately.
Washington again. Always Washington.
He stalked over to the boy and leaned into his face.
“He was not doing so well before you lent him your aid.”
The boy merely looked irritated.
“He was not yet tried in being a leader that everyone looked up to. His military exploits in the past were of smaller scale, so I am told, and so, he faced a truly astounding learning curve. What seemed to be his greatest weakness, his humility, has proven to be his greatest strength and endeared him to the hearts of many. And while his military tactics may not be the best against the crown, he is a genius in logistics, and it is mostly due to his organization and foresight that the army remains fed, stocked and able to fight.”
Charles stared again. The boy did not talk to him for nearly the entire couple of days he’d been here and now...
Loathe as he was to admit it, it was an accurate assessment. Washington was rather skilled when it came to army logistics and his operations management abilities made it possible for the army to operate for as long as it did.
They might have perished without Washington’s skill with supply chain management.
The thought did not sit well with him.
“Managing logistics does not make a great commander,” he felt compelled to say. “He ought to have been the army supplies officer, not the commander-in-chief.”
The boy shook his head.
“His understanding of the subject means that the person with the most say and power understands a vital but poorly understood area. Had it been anyone else in the position, they would not have seen the importance of his suggestions and the army would have been doomed. Whereas everyone understands the importance of good military tactics. George is blessed with a humility and willingness to listen to others, and that lack has been well complemented by the skills of his officers.”
It was...a very thorough understanding. An understanding that Charles himself had not come to.
He stared at the boy. At the unexpectedly brilliant mind that was capable of such analysis.
He had known Washington for longer than the boy.
He had not seen this.
And he did not want to see this now.
“His officers will trust him less with the rumors that I sent around camp. He’ll soon find himself outwitted.”
At least, that was what Charles hoped.
If the man kept blundering, then Charles may yet receive the position he was looking for.
The boy glared at him, and Charles was discomfited to discover that he looked just as magnificent when he scowled as when he was stoic-faced.
How could someone like this be so blinded by Washington? How?
And why hadn’t he been raised as a Templar, as he ought to have been?
Master Kenway’s brilliant and beautiful Omega son...an Assassin.
It was such a waste.
He remembered how it felt to have the boy under him. He remembered how it felt to be inside the boy, wrapped in his tight heat and driving towards blissful completion...
He leaned in, intent on smelling the boy.
He wouldn’t touch him, just smell him and remember how it was to be on top of him.
The boy leaned away, flinching from his proximity.
He reached out a hand. Just a small touch.
Just one...
“Boss!”
They both jumped at the sound, and Charles turned incredulous eyes towards the door, where Edwards had strolled in.
“Boss, the big boss says I can has a go, too!”
...What?
“So this is the big boss’s little Omega. A looker, ain’t ‘e? Wouldn’t mind getting a tooth in ‘im.”
Charles stared at him.
The Assassin stared at him.
“Wazza matter? Not scared of little ‘ol me, are ya? Don’t ya worry yer sweet little head. I’ll be gentle wit ya.”
He reached a grubby hand toward the disbelieving Omega.
Oh no. This wasn’t acceptable.
Charles caught his wrist midway.
“Do not touch him.”
Edwards had the temerity to look confused.
“But sir, he really did say—”
Charles was so furious, he grabbed a hold of the man’s shoulders and threw him at the door.
“Out!”
Edwards took one wide-eyed look at his face and then ran.
“Well.”
Charles calmed his breathing and then turned to look at the Assassin still in front of him.
“I can handle a drunk idiot.”
...it figured that Edwards was drinking on the job again.
Charles made a mental note to half his pay.
The Assassin then turned to leave, probably to head back to his own quarters.
That was it? Not even a thanks for Charles throwing Edwards out? Or acknowledge the fact that Charles was protecting him from the likes of Gerhard? He wasn’t even going to get his customary silence as the boy read?
No, he would not be scorned like this.
High on adrenalin and anger, Charles grabbed the boy, spun him around and kissed him hard on the mouth.
Immediately, hands pushed at him and scratched him, but he easily grabbed a hold of those wrists and brought that struggling body to the ground.
Every involuntary brush against that bucking body was delicious, if ineffectual. He was just bigger and heavier than the Omega.
“Don’t struggle,” he whispered. “I don’t mean you any harm. Just stay still.”
He just wanted the boy’s company.
He wasn’t about to force himself on the boy.
Again.
Master Kenway would have his head.
The boy did not listen to him and continued thrashing. One lucky knee hit him painfully in the stomach as the boy squirmed to escape from him, and Charles saw red.
Here he was, trying his hardest to restrain himself, and this was the thanks he got?
Fought against and hurt when he had even protected the boy?
Charles would not stand for that.
With one quick strike, he backhanded the boy and tore at his clothes.
If that was what he was returned for his kindness, then so be it.
Half an hour later, as he came down from his euphoric high to the sound of soft sobs and a litany of “stop, stop, please stop, no no nonono” from the finely trembling body beneath him, he felt sanity return to him.
Oh God.
He stared at the ripped clothes, at the way the boy flinched away from him, at the dull amber-brown eyes.
Strange Fates 19
Strange Fates
Chapter 19 - Captors and Captive
Charles paced, waiting for the Assassin boy to emerge from his quarters.
It had been a trying couple of days, with suitors dropping in left and right (though Charles was glad to see that James had not been one of them). Charles had been surprised that a few of them had even gained Master Kenway’s permission to court his son.
There were no weak Alphas or stupid Alphas, but the appearance of Gerhard at his door had caused shivers to go up even his spine.
And the way the Hessian had stared at the wide-eyed and unarmed Omega, pale with anger and fear...
Charles hated to admit it, but if anyone could utterly cow the boy, it was likely to be Gerhard. OF course, it wasn’t like that there would be anything left of the Assassin once he finished with him.
Gerhard was sadistic when it came to their enemies, and it was highly doubtful that the boy would survive the man’s...attentions if, by some reason, Master Kenway took leave of his senses and gave the boy to him.
At least that was something Charles didn’t have to worry about. The boy looked as if he wanted to cling to Charles to escape Gerhard’s malicious gaze.
Gerhard might as well be driving Charles’s suit for him.
Charles had found Gerhard afterwards and warned him not to come near the Omega. His was a suit that Charles would not be allowing, no matter what Master Kenway said about the matter.
After all the excitement after Gerhard’s visit, the boy claimed fatigue and retreated to his room. He had not made an appearance since, and Charles was beginning to suspect that the boy had escaped somehow.
Impossible with the number of guards he’d stationed around the perimeter of his house (and the boy’s weapons were with Master Kenway besides), but the thought surfaced in Charles’s mind and just would not disappear.
So when he heard the click-clack of boots making their way down the staircase, Charles breathed a sigh of relief, turned to greet the boy...
...and stared.
He’d known the Assassin would clean up well once he was out of that infernal white outfit, but...
A small voice in the back of his head wondered if this was the reason Biddle was positively salivating over the boy. If this was the reason that someone like Gerhard would decide to court him.
The boy could not wear the same clothes every day so, in preparation for when the boy would become his wife, Charles had arranged for a pieces of clothing to be tailored for him. He’d arranged for the servants to lay out one of those he was told was quite similar to the boy’s captain uniform.
He’d been curious as to how the boy would appear, and when he turned and caught sight of him...
A succubus. The boy was a succubus.
His body was lean and slender, his legs long and fine. He was wholly transformed and looked...looked...
He looked as elegant and beautiful and commanding as Master Kenway had that first day he set foot in the colonies.
Charles wanted to ravish him.
Charles unconsciously licked his lips, then shook his head.
As much as he would love to pin the boy to the ground and have him, Master Kenway had forbidden it of him.
It was to be his punishment for his earlier transgressions, and he must suffer it.
But oh, how he wished he had not been asked that.
How he wished Master Kenway had acquiesced to his pleas to keep the boy, after the child was born.
There was always the chance that the boy would decide on one of the other Templars, just to spite him, and he would then forever lose the mother of his only child.
It was a thought that could not be borne.
He may not be the most kind or generous of Alphas, but he cared for the idea of family. He had a happy childhood with his own parents, and it was his fondest wish to extend that to his son or daughter, Alpha or Omega.
Family mattered to him. Blood mattered to him, and for it to be his fault that his child was deprived of a mother...
“You do not look very well.”
Charles started, staring at the boy who deigned to speak to him for the first time since he was first brought to Charles’s house.
He seemed to have gotten over his earlier fear of Gerhard.
“It is not easy to win this war.”
The boy did not look surprised.
“Allow the commander to do what he must, and the war will be won speedily.”
Charles’s mood soured immediately.
Washington again. Always Washington.
He stalked over to the boy and leaned into his face.
“He was not doing so well before you lent him your aid.”
The boy merely looked irritated.
“He was not yet tried in being a leader that everyone looked up to. His military exploits in the past were of smaller scale, so I am told, and so, he faced a truly astounding learning curve. What seemed to be his greatest weakness, his humility, has proven to be his greatest strength and endeared him to the hearts of many. And while his military tactics may not be the best against the crown, he is a genius in logistics, and it is mostly due to his organization and foresight that the army remains fed, stocked and able to fight.”
Charles stared again. The boy did not talk to him for nearly the entire couple of days he’d been here and now...
Loathe as he was to admit it, it was an accurate assessment. Washington was rather skilled when it came to army logistics and his operations management abilities made it possible for the army to operate for as long as it did.
They might have perished without Washington’s skill with supply chain management.
The thought did not sit well with him.
“Managing logistics does not make a great commander,” he felt compelled to say. “He ought to have been the army supplies officer, not the commander-in-chief.”
The boy shook his head.
“His understanding of the subject means that the person with the most say and power understands a vital but poorly understood area. Had it been anyone else in the position, they would not have seen the importance of his suggestions and the army would have been doomed. Whereas everyone understands the importance of good military tactics. George is blessed with a humility and willingness to listen to others, and that lack has been well complemented by the skills of his officers.”
It was...a very thorough understanding. An understanding that Charles himself had not come to.
He stared at the boy. At the unexpectedly brilliant mind that was capable of such analysis.
He had known Washington for longer than the boy.
He had not seen this.
And he did not want to see this now.
“His officers will trust him less with the rumors that I sent around camp. He’ll soon find himself outwitted.”
At least, that was what Charles hoped.
If the man kept blundering, then Charles may yet receive the position he was looking for.
The boy glared at him, and Charles was discomfited to discover that he looked just as magnificent when he scowled as when he was stoic-faced.
How could someone like this be so blinded by Washington? How?
And why hadn’t he been raised as a Templar, as he ought to have been?
Master Kenway’s brilliant and beautiful Omega son...an Assassin.
It was such a waste.
He remembered how it felt to have the boy under him. He remembered how it felt to be inside the boy, wrapped in his tight heat and driving towards blissful completion...
He leaned in, intent on smelling the boy.
He wouldn’t touch him, just smell him and remember how it was to be on top of him.
The boy leaned away, flinching from his proximity.
He reached out a hand. Just a small touch.
Just one...
“Boss!”
They both jumped at the sound, and Charles turned incredulous eyes towards the door, where Edwards had strolled in.
“Boss, the big boss says I can has a go, too!”
...What?
“So this is the big boss’s little Omega. A looker, ain’t ‘e? Wouldn’t mind getting a tooth in ‘im.”
Charles stared at him.
The Assassin stared at him.
“Wazza matter? Not scared of little ‘ol me, are ya? Don’t ya worry yer sweet little head. I’ll be gentle wit ya.”
He reached a grubby hand toward the disbelieving Omega.
Oh no. This wasn’t acceptable.
Charles caught his wrist midway.
“Do not touch him.”
Edwards had the temerity to look confused.
“But sir, he really did say—”
Charles was so furious, he grabbed a hold of the man’s shoulders and threw him at the door.
“Out!”
Edwards took one wide-eyed look at his face and then ran.
“Well.”
Charles calmed his breathing and then turned to look at the Assassin still in front of him.
“I can handle a drunk idiot.”
...it figured that Edwards was drinking on the job again.
Charles made a mental note to half his pay.
The Assassin then turned to leave, probably to head back to his own quarters.
That was it? Not even a thanks for Charles throwing Edwards out? Or acknowledge the fact that Charles was protecting him from the likes of Gerhard? He wasn’t even going to get his customary silence as the boy read?
No, he would not be scorned like this.
High on adrenalin and anger, Charles grabbed the boy, spun him around and kissed him hard on the mouth.
Immediately, hands pushed at him and scratched him, but he easily grabbed a hold of those wrists and brought that struggling body to the ground.
Every involuntary brush against that bucking body was delicious, if ineffectual. He was just bigger and heavier than the Omega.
“Don’t struggle,” he whispered. “I don’t mean you any harm. Just stay still.”
He just wanted the boy’s company.
He wasn’t about to force himself on the boy.
Again.
Master Kenway would have his head.
The boy did not listen to him and continued thrashing. One lucky knee hit him painfully in the stomach as the boy squirmed to escape from him, and Charles saw red.
Here he was, trying his hardest to restrain himself, and this was the thanks he got?
Fought against and hurt when he had even protected the boy?
Charles would not stand for that.
With one quick strike, he backhanded the boy and tore at his clothes.
If that was what he was returned for his kindness, then so be it.
Half an hour later, as he came down from his euphoric high to the sound of soft sobs and a litany of “stop, stop, please stop, no no nonono” from the finely trembling body beneath him, he felt sanity return to him.
Oh God.
He stared at the ripped clothes, at the way the boy flinched away from him, at the dull amber-brown eyes.
Oh God, Master Kenway was going to kill him.