Servant and Master (II)
Title: Servant and Master ((II)
Authors: dalehead
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Orlibean
Summary: The plot thickens…
A/N: For mistry89
There was a moment in the night when Orlando took fright. My lord was flushed and sweating, his blond hair damp, his eyes wide and unseeing.
He muttered to himself, quiet at first, gradually getting louder.
“Ssshhh….” Orlando soothed him, mopping his brow with cool water that he’d fetched himself as My lord’s valet had apparently given himself the night off. A couple of the kitchen maids were rather taken by Orlando, who it should be mentioned, was a comely youth, slim, dark haired and dark eyed too. His olive hued skin gave him a faintly foreign air, though he hailed from London and most of the female staff, young and old, were a little in love with him. Quite a few of the male servants too.
“I’m here,” Orlando didn’t know why he said those words, he just knew he didn’t want anyone else to hear. It appeared his austere employer not only liked his own sex but he liked to steer the carriage. This surprised Orlando, he thought my lord was the passive part of the equation. He looked at his Master through half closed eyes, imagining what he would do if he found himself in this bed, imagined the powerful man naked and needing.
That way lay madness and with a sigh he begun to clear the jug of water and the rags he’d been using. My lord was sleeping and he needed more water, more strips of material and he needed to find something to eat.
He was only gone a few minutes, a quarter of an hour at the most but when he got back my lord was thrashing around, moaning and talking nonsense. This time he didn’t respond to Orlando’s touch, nor to his words. He took fright and called the housekeeper who was nominally on her Master’s side, having been with the family since my lord and his sister were children.
“I’ll send for Doctor Chepstow,” she murmured. “You keep sponging him down, keep talking to him, he was an excitable little boy and he’s turned into an excitable man,” she sniffed and left the room, stately as a galleon.
Orlando couldn’t imagine her ever being ruffled. She made him feel calmer and he sat on the bed next to my lord.
“Hush … it’s alright … they can’t get you, I’m here, I’ll fight them, I can fence, I can read too but you don’t know that, you think I’m an ignorant footman who doesn’t know why your wife left you. And I don’t think you’ve ever felt your body filled by another cock, I think you’re still a virgin…”
My lord muttered to himself, moaned, Orlando bathed his temples with cool water, carried on talking soothingly.
“I think you’d enjoy it much more if you were the one bent over, I think you’re fighting your own desires and one day I think you’re going to let me show you what you’ve been missing …”
Orlando paused and looked out of the window. It had finally stopped raining and dawn was breaking on the horizon.
He looked at my lord and realised that the fever must have broken, the skin that had been hot was cool and it looked as if the patient was sleeping. Orlando didn’t know whether to stay where he was or whether to go to bed. He hated feeling so unsure of himself. Orlando was never usually unsure of himself. If only … he sighed, if only his father hadn’t drunk away any chance he had of becoming the man he’d dreamt of becoming.
“What shall I do?” he murmured quietly, sure that my lord wouldn’t hear him. “Shall I stay here in case you need me, then tip toe away in the morning to get changed and light the fires, clean the shoes and do all the other jobs you pay me so badly to do?”
A light snore told Orlando he need have no fear of being heard.
“I’m just as intelligent as you, it’s an accident of birth that’s put me here and you there, god, I wish I’d been born French … the Frenchies know how to treat the aristocracy.”
Before he could get really worked up, Doctor Chepstow let himself into the room.
“Orlando is it?” he smiled, he was a kind man and he could see big dark smudges under the lad’s eyes. “You may go to bed, I will bleed his lordship then Mrs Framlingham will come and sit with him.”
Too tired to argue and knowing he had to be up very soon, Orlando took himself to bed.
He awoke only when Mary, one of the maids knocked on his door.
“Orlando?” she called. “You’re late…” he heard her feet pattering down the uncarpeted hall. He groaned and rolled out of bed. He was exhausted but he was young too, cold water to the back of the neck and already he felt better. He’d invent an errand then find a quiet place to nap later in the day. Getting changed into a shirt that was only semi dirty, putting his uniform back on he made his way downstairs to the Servants Hall.
“Afternoon,” one of the grooms grinned at him, he didn’t smile for long. Orlando turned to him, raising an eyebrow and looking inquiringly at him.
“Anything else you were wanting to say?” he asked quietly, almost menacingly. The women in the kitchen gave a collective sigh. For all his boyish good looks there was something very masterful about their footman.
“Um … no…” the groom almost doffed his cap, instead he made a hasty escape, muttering something about Salamanca needing reshodding. Orlando shrugged.
“Sit down lad, get something to eat before you begin, you look exhausted,” the cook was fond of him, she thought he was too thin and he made the most of her fondness.
“Thank you ma’am,” he was always respectful, it made sure he got a decent serving of whatever was on the table.
After breakfast, Orlando re-laid and lit his fires, swept the hall before taking hot water and a posset to his Master. He tapped on the door.
“Excuse me sir?” he let himself in.
“Where’s Haringey?”
“Mr Haringey has vanished sir along with all his belongings so I have brought your water and a posset that cook sent you,” Orlando felt uncomfortable. Bright green eyes were looking at him quizzically. He put the jug of water down and the glass within reach.
“Orlando isn’t it?”
“Yes sir.”
“So tell me again …” there was a pause and Orlando had a feeling of impending doom. “What exactly are you going to show me, what have I been missing?”
(tbc)
Authors: dalehead
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Orlibean
Summary: The plot thickens…
A/N: For mistry89
There was a moment in the night when Orlando took fright. My lord was flushed and sweating, his blond hair damp, his eyes wide and unseeing.
He muttered to himself, quiet at first, gradually getting louder.
“Ssshhh….” Orlando soothed him, mopping his brow with cool water that he’d fetched himself as My lord’s valet had apparently given himself the night off. A couple of the kitchen maids were rather taken by Orlando, who it should be mentioned, was a comely youth, slim, dark haired and dark eyed too. His olive hued skin gave him a faintly foreign air, though he hailed from London and most of the female staff, young and old, were a little in love with him. Quite a few of the male servants too.
“I’m here,” Orlando didn’t know why he said those words, he just knew he didn’t want anyone else to hear. It appeared his austere employer not only liked his own sex but he liked to steer the carriage. This surprised Orlando, he thought my lord was the passive part of the equation. He looked at his Master through half closed eyes, imagining what he would do if he found himself in this bed, imagined the powerful man naked and needing.
That way lay madness and with a sigh he begun to clear the jug of water and the rags he’d been using. My lord was sleeping and he needed more water, more strips of material and he needed to find something to eat.
He was only gone a few minutes, a quarter of an hour at the most but when he got back my lord was thrashing around, moaning and talking nonsense. This time he didn’t respond to Orlando’s touch, nor to his words. He took fright and called the housekeeper who was nominally on her Master’s side, having been with the family since my lord and his sister were children.
“I’ll send for Doctor Chepstow,” she murmured. “You keep sponging him down, keep talking to him, he was an excitable little boy and he’s turned into an excitable man,” she sniffed and left the room, stately as a galleon.
Orlando couldn’t imagine her ever being ruffled. She made him feel calmer and he sat on the bed next to my lord.
“Hush … it’s alright … they can’t get you, I’m here, I’ll fight them, I can fence, I can read too but you don’t know that, you think I’m an ignorant footman who doesn’t know why your wife left you. And I don’t think you’ve ever felt your body filled by another cock, I think you’re still a virgin…”
My lord muttered to himself, moaned, Orlando bathed his temples with cool water, carried on talking soothingly.
“I think you’d enjoy it much more if you were the one bent over, I think you’re fighting your own desires and one day I think you’re going to let me show you what you’ve been missing …”
Orlando paused and looked out of the window. It had finally stopped raining and dawn was breaking on the horizon.
He looked at my lord and realised that the fever must have broken, the skin that had been hot was cool and it looked as if the patient was sleeping. Orlando didn’t know whether to stay where he was or whether to go to bed. He hated feeling so unsure of himself. Orlando was never usually unsure of himself. If only … he sighed, if only his father hadn’t drunk away any chance he had of becoming the man he’d dreamt of becoming.
“What shall I do?” he murmured quietly, sure that my lord wouldn’t hear him. “Shall I stay here in case you need me, then tip toe away in the morning to get changed and light the fires, clean the shoes and do all the other jobs you pay me so badly to do?”
A light snore told Orlando he need have no fear of being heard.
“I’m just as intelligent as you, it’s an accident of birth that’s put me here and you there, god, I wish I’d been born French … the Frenchies know how to treat the aristocracy.”
Before he could get really worked up, Doctor Chepstow let himself into the room.
“Orlando is it?” he smiled, he was a kind man and he could see big dark smudges under the lad’s eyes. “You may go to bed, I will bleed his lordship then Mrs Framlingham will come and sit with him.”
Too tired to argue and knowing he had to be up very soon, Orlando took himself to bed.
He awoke only when Mary, one of the maids knocked on his door.
“Orlando?” she called. “You’re late…” he heard her feet pattering down the uncarpeted hall. He groaned and rolled out of bed. He was exhausted but he was young too, cold water to the back of the neck and already he felt better. He’d invent an errand then find a quiet place to nap later in the day. Getting changed into a shirt that was only semi dirty, putting his uniform back on he made his way downstairs to the Servants Hall.
“Afternoon,” one of the grooms grinned at him, he didn’t smile for long. Orlando turned to him, raising an eyebrow and looking inquiringly at him.
“Anything else you were wanting to say?” he asked quietly, almost menacingly. The women in the kitchen gave a collective sigh. For all his boyish good looks there was something very masterful about their footman.
“Um … no…” the groom almost doffed his cap, instead he made a hasty escape, muttering something about Salamanca needing reshodding. Orlando shrugged.
“Sit down lad, get something to eat before you begin, you look exhausted,” the cook was fond of him, she thought he was too thin and he made the most of her fondness.
“Thank you ma’am,” he was always respectful, it made sure he got a decent serving of whatever was on the table.
After breakfast, Orlando re-laid and lit his fires, swept the hall before taking hot water and a posset to his Master. He tapped on the door.
“Excuse me sir?” he let himself in.
“Where’s Haringey?”
“Mr Haringey has vanished sir along with all his belongings so I have brought your water and a posset that cook sent you,” Orlando felt uncomfortable. Bright green eyes were looking at him quizzically. He put the jug of water down and the glass within reach.
“Orlando isn’t it?”
“Yes sir.”
“So tell me again …” there was a pause and Orlando had a feeling of impending doom. “What exactly are you going to show me, what have I been missing?”
(tbc)