Fic: Desire's Thrall (Or, Romance Novel Nightmare), Chapter 5
Title: Desire's Thrall (Or, Romance Novel Nightmare)
Chapter 5
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine, Bret/Jemayn, Bretta/Jemayn (...it'll make sense when you read it)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,719
Summary: Bret gets transported into a romance novel. No, really.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is all mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Crack!Fic. And yet still more build up...
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4
Once discovering he was trapped in a romance novel, many avenues as to how Bret would deal with this fact were open to him. He ended up settling on crying silently into his pillow, overwhelmed with a heady mixture of hysteria and fear.
How had this happened? And more importantly, how was he supposed to get out of it and back to his real life? He felt lost and miserable and heartsick. Bret never thought he would miss his dingy little apartment so much. And more than just his apartment, Jemaine.
He missed Jemaine.
It was strange to him, because there had been many times where he had thought life without Jemaine would be preferable. Like when Jemaine drank the last of the juice or when he managed to insert himself into Bret's relationships. But now that his band member was gone...
Or, well, not so gone...
Bret looked at his closed door and shifted about on his cold bed nervously. Would Jemayn come in here? The fact they slept across from one another, only separate by a door made him uneasy for some reason.
Funny that, considering he slept in the same room with Jemaine, his bed only inches from the other man's. Why had he never thought that odd before? Maybe it was because they had had to share the room out of necessity. Not any other reason. Though Bret did admit he found some comfort in having Jemaine sleep not far from him.
Many nights he fell asleep to the sound of Jemaine's deep and even breathing. It was a sort of hum, like that of a heater or a car engine or something. Whatever it was, it was comforting.
He was without it now and he curled in on himself, biting his bottom lip as he thought of the other Jemaine. Did he breathe the same way when he slept? He looked like Jemaine and he had moments where he seemed just like him but he was different.
He was so...hot blooded. And strong. And assertive.
Bret couldn't imagine Jemaine leading men into battle the same was Jemayn did. Nor could he imagine Jemaine with a whole manor full of people that he could have service his every whim.
Oh, Jemaine would like it, for sure, but Bret just couldn't picture it. The best he could imagine was Jemaine liking it for a while - but eventually being sort of...uncomfortable with the whole affair. Bret knew he would be uncomfortable.
And then there was his part here...Bretta. Coco (or not Coco, he supposed) had said he was nice. That reassured Bret a bit but he was starting to have the sinking suspicion that, much like Jemaine's counterpart, the Bret of this world was much more sure of himself.
Bretta sounded like a strong sort of individual. He had apparently survived a deadly injury, after all. And he took care of horses! Bret envied him that. To take care of such fine animals all day must have been nice. After his ride today, he could easily appreciate them. Certainly better than watching sheep.
The thought of the ride back brought swiftly to mind the memory of Jemayn pressed up against him and Bret felt his face go hot. It had all seemed so...wildly intimate. And the nature of Bretta and Jemaine's relationship...
Jemayn had kissed him.
And the things he had said...
Bret groaned and rolled his eyes. He could be naive about plenty of things but he was quite sure he got the message when it came to that. The two men most likely had had many man-man-lady threesomes but minus the lady making them man-man...twosomes.
Bret burrowed deep into his pillow, sniffling. Gay. His alternate-reality-romance-novel-countepart was gay. And with Jemayn.
He just...couldn't picture it. Or, okay, well, he could, because Jemayn had kissed him and he could picture that very quickly. His mind still had yet to fully digest it. It had happened so fast. Their mouths pressed together...
And Bret had not been curious. Not one bit. He had been shocked and appalled and had ended it quite quickly. So. He wasn't gay. He wasn't.
After all, seeing Coco had brought to mind how lovely she was. She was what he wanted because she was a 'she' and not a 'he'. Bret was not into 'he's'. Ladies not mens. Ladies.
Bret sighed, tossing and turning and hoping that maybe if he fell asleep he would wake up to find himself home, everything all right and as it should be.
* * * * *
"Get up."
Bret blinked, sunlight slicing into his room. He sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Mmm...hey, man, you wouldn't believe the dream I had..."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Bret yawned, "You were..."
His words dried up as his sleepy eyes cleared to reveal Jemayn sitting on the edge of his bed. Oh. Flip. Bret groaned and flopped back down on the bed, throwing one arm dramatically over his eyes.
"Bret?"
"Flip! Thought...maybe if I slept..."
Jemayn's eyes narrowed and he swatted at Bret's leg, "Come on! Time to get up!"
Bret buried his head under his pillow, "No thanks, mate."
"Do not make me drag you from this bed, thrall. You would not like it."
Bret whined grumpily, "Why should I? Get up...mean, I'm not...and stop calling me thrall! Don't even know what that means!"
Suddenly Bret felt a firm grip on his foot and he was tugged forwards swiftly, away from his pillow, he didn't even get a chance to breathe before he found himself flipped over, Jemayn over top of him, pinning him to the bed, holding his wrists tightly above his head as he stared down into his face, voice heated, "You are my thrall. Which means you are mine. I am your master. Do you understand me?"
Bret did his best not to whimper and failed miserably. Jemayn's weight crushed him to the bed and he felt heat tendril deep in the pit of his body. No, no, no...he did not want this. Damn, treacherous body. Maybe the blow to his head had effects his hormones or something...caused an imbalance.
Jemayn's grip tightened just so and Bret struggled weakly. Jemayn looked down at him hungrily, "You would be wise not to move again...I told Taika I would be gentle with you...take my time...but if you keep that up, I shall not be able to keep my promise."
Bret breathed out and a hideous part of his mind whispered an encouragement for him to move. He viciously stamped the thought out and quit struggling. There. Take that body! And... mind...apparently...
Yes, Bret was truly going crazy.
Jemayn gave him a grim little smile, "There. Better. See? I am not so terrible a master, now am I?"
"Can I...will you get off me now?" Bret gasped.
"Used to be a time you would have begged me not to get off you," Jemayn said, voice velvet and Bret valiantly tried to ignore the fact that he had started trembling. Jemayn sighed and drew away slowly, "Come...we have much to do today if your memory is to return."
Bret almost wanted to tell him that there was no memory to return. He wanted to inflict some sort of pain on this man. After all, he had just been overpowered and sort of emasculated. But Bret knew better.
He got to his feet and, thinking of last night, instead found himself saying quietly, "I'm...sorry. 'Bout last night. I didn't...I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of Mur-your Da-your Father."
Jemayn sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, "My Father is a good man. A bit befuddled now and again, but he showed me how to use a weapon and he can be quite fierce if called to it. I was...afraid for you. He can have quite a temper."
"Mur-your father?" Bret repeated incredulously, trying to imagine Murray being a blood thirsty fighter. Then again, he would never have imagined Jemaine that way had he not seen it before his very eyes.
Jemayn shrugged, "He has his moments...but more often than not, he is content to run his ledgers and take account of everything...he grew quite attached to that after my mother..."
He trailed off and Bret couldn't help but pat his arm lightly, "Sorry 'bout that too."
Jemayn sighed, "She was a lovely woman. Many a man would have had her, but only my father was worthy. They often spoke of her...even in song...her legs and her hair," he shrugged, "I do not look a whit like her...nor my father, for that matter...I was cursed with darker features. When I was young, I was often teased for it. Word would have it that the devil crept into my mother's womb and laid his hands upon me. They call me the Dark Beast in some parts of the world..."
Bret's lips quirked at the very idea, "'The Dark Beast'?"
Jemayn leveled him with a heated look, "You would deny it?"
Bret exhaled, remembering Jemayn's body pinning his to the bed, his hands on him, and he shook his head, "N-No."
Jemayn smiled fondly, "After a time, I was never such with you...I was always...you used to say you had tamed me."
"Oh?"
Jemayn looked at Bret and his smile faded, "No more, though, I would imagine."
Bret shifted from foot to foot, "I...suppose."
Jemayn let out a breath, sort of hopeless and sad and Bret couldn't help but feel his heart ache with it as the other man waved a hand towards the door, "Come, let us start."
* * * * *
Jemayn took Bret about the house and pointed out this or that. Bret actually wished he could remember something, because it felt almost morbid to go on this tour of another man's life. He felt like some sort of dreadful imposter who was trying to supplant himself into a place he did not belong.
But then, this was often how he thought of Jemayn, as he found himself wishing that the other man was the man he actually knew. The one he...was friends with. Bret didn't know why, but there was some weird, niggling feeling going on in the back of his head the more he thought of Jemaine and how much he missed him and it was...alarming.
It was almost as if...
Bret took in a deep breath and packed it all away, wanting to ignore every little bit of it. He tried instead to focus on what Jemayn told him about Bretta and the house and their life together.
Bret wanted to interject with questions now and then. Ask what year it was and what Jemayn was exactly - Viking, Knight, Warrior, what-have-you, but there was no way he could put this forward without sounding completely batty so he just nodded his head when appropriate.
They toured the fields and the area beyond where the land dropped off harshly, black water silent and still beneath, "This here be the Dead Man's Drop. When the weather is warmer, Taika and I often leap from here into the waters below."
Bret blinked, looking at the water, then at Jemayn, then back at the water again, "That's like...fifty feet down, man."
"Nay, 'tis not so far."
Bret looked around and, finding a rock, he let it fall over the cliff side. It landed in the waters below with a minimal splash and he looked at the ripples it made and back to Jemayn again, still stunned, "Seriously? Like...fifty feet."
Jemayn laughed and shook his head and for a moment Bret could almost see his Jemaine, could imagine him sticking his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet and looking sort of...bashful. Oh god, Jemayn was bashful!
"Trust me, Bret. 'Tis not so impressive."
Bret couldn't help but smile a little bit. He wanted to tease Jemayn about being shy but instead offered the other man an easy out, "So...what else is there?"
Jemayn gave him a cocky grin and patted at his arm, "I saved the best for last."
They walked away from the Drop and from the fields, towards the far right side of the house where a wall of trees rose up. Right on that edge of the forest there stood a ramshackle stable and from it came the sounds of different animals.
Bret did his best not to get too excited as he entered, "It's like a little zoo!"
"Zoo?" Jemayn repeated the word as if it left a strange taste in his mouth.
"Or, well, I mean, really, it's a farm-" Bret muttered quickly, eyes taking in all the different stalls. Most of them housed fine horses and he saw a few that had cows and goats pinned up. The last stall, however, was the best and Bret breathed out the moment he saw the big black stallion, eyes big as saucers, "Flip..."
The majestic creature walked towards him fluidly and Bret wasn't even aware he was holding out his hand until the creature stuck its' long head almost demurely under his fingers. Bret stroked the stallion's mane and Jemayn leaned against a wall, watching them, his voice soft, "No memories may come to you, but it matters little in his eyes. To him, you are ever the same."
Bret barely heard him, instead marveling at how well this big animal responded to him. Bret had never considered himself...oh, what was that Doctor's name? The one who was good with animals? Doctor Zhivago? No, that wasn't it...
He shook his head, it didn't matter who it was, Bret only knew he had never thought of himself as being in league with them, but now...every animal he had seen had responded so well to him. It was odd, but wonderful, and Bret found himself entering the stallion's stall, his hands journeying further.
Jemayn just laughed, "It's still incredible to me to see this. Most people would get kicked standing where you are..."
Bret just shrugged, his bottom lip sticking out, "Dunno, man...he just likes me."
"Albi likes no one. He just finds a kindred spirit in you, as he does me."
"Albi?" Bret repeated, "Really?"
Jemayn gave him a funny look and Bret just shrugged, smiling, as he continued to rub his hand along the stallion's side, "So this is...what? Your war horse?"
He nodded, "My father gave him to me. Ah, but he was spirited then. No one could get near him. He was wild and struck fear into the heart of any who dared approach him. But...for whatever reason...he responded well to me. He lets only me ride him ...well, that was before you."
Bret blinked and pointed at himself, "What? Who? Me?"
"Mm," Jemayn nodded and walked closer. He held out his own hand and Albi, eager for extra attention, lowered his head again so Jemayn could stroke at his mane as well, "You came and Albi was instantly like this with you. Gentle as kitten. It was stunning. Half the reason I had you in the stables. You were the only one past me who could handle him."
Bret licked his lips, trepidation strong in him even as he spoke, "How...how did I come to...be in your service?"
Jemayn drew away from Albi and Bret both, leaning against the wall once more, "Also my father. He gave you to me. You were my first thrall. I had never had one before. Frankly the idea of it left me cold. After all, I had been with my Father to many courts throughout my youth. I saw how others treated theirs and I couldn't...see myself having any. But my father was most insistent. 'Twould be unseemingly, he told me, to not have at least one. Especially considering he has over a dozen in his own household."
Jemayn rubbed at his neck, "Still, I knew not what to do with you, and when first I received you, you would not speak a word. So, I just...went about my life as usual. And you followed after me...then, when I saw you interact with Albi...the decision became natural."
"So...what? We became friends?"
Jemayn licked his lips, "Not quite. I was...betrothed. Set to wed the Lady Sarah."
Bret's eyes widened. Jemayn had almost married Sally?
"But then, one night, she stole herself away. She had had her mind set to marry Lord Marcus, though she told none of this to me. Oh no, to me she played the part of doting lover and future wife well."
Bret felt a stab of pity and was about to voice it, when Jemayn cleared his throat and continued, "You...had not spoken to me often before then...nor, really, much after, but...your...attitude around me did change by a margin. You seemed...more visible, I suppose. More attentive."
Bret tried to picture himself this way and couldn't. To be at Jemaine's beck and call. The most he had ever done that was the time Jemaine had been so sick that he had barely been able to get out the bed to use the toilet. And even then, Bret had grumped about it.
Jemayn continued, "And when I did ask you to do something you would reply in a way that seemed," he shook his head, "'Tis juvenile, but...it was like you were...saying something within something else. Like a hidden message."
"Did I say 'as you wish'?"
Jemayn looked startled, "You remember?"
Bret's mouth flapped silently. He had not expected to hear that. In fact, he had said it in effect of being sort of a smart ass. Jemaine would have gotten it. Bret had made him watch 'Princess Bride' at least a million times. Bret just kept forgetting that this was not his Jemaine and that this one had no idea that that movie existed - hell, he had no concept of movies period.
What he did have though, was a face that edged on desperation. And Bret, who normally abhorred lying, couldn't help but feel the need to give him something, no matter how little, "...I said it didn't, I?"
Jemayn smiled so warmly that Bret couldn't help but look down at his feet, "That's...that's wonderful, Bretta. Just..."
Jemayn entered the stall and came closer to Bret, who still couldn't quite look at him. Jemayn's hands rose, sort of floating for a moment, trying to decide where to land. It was as if he wanted to pull the other man into a hug, but did not know how to do it.
Finally he settled for resting a hand on his shoulder and patting it, "One memory is better than none. Does it...does it feel good? To-to remember just a little?"
Bret felt guilt flood through him and opened his mouth, a broken 'I' leaving him but he didn't get any farther as he now looked at Jemayn's face. It was so like Jemaine's, but there was...something else there. Something in the eyes. He looked at Bret as if Bret was the most important person in the world.
Jemayn's other hand rose up and cupped Bret's face and Bret sucked in a breath, drawing away from it, "N-No. Don't. Don't."
"What?" Jemayn whispered.
Bret bit his lip and shook his head, not meeting the other man's eyes, "You can't...I'm not..."
"Bret..."
"Jemayn," His chest felt tight and this was so humiliating. He didn't want to have to explain this, the man should just know. Jemaine knew. Bret struggled to find the words, embarrassment overwhelming, "I don't...it's...'s not right, man. K-kissing another guy, it's...and, mean, Dave told me once that someone's always got to be the lady and with you picking me up like a satchel and throwing an axe around-"
Jemayn did not understand a lot of what Bret had just said, but he thought he picked up on the message, "You think...being with me makes you less of a man?"
Bret felt a lump in his throat and hated the fact that it was unexplainable as he nodded.
Jemayn suddenly took a fierce hold of both his shoulders and turned him to face him fully, "Bret, look at me."
Bret avoided his eyes.
Jemayn shook him, "I am your master! You will obey! Now look at me, damn you!"
Bret looked at him but he felt as if he was staring into the sun. Jemayn's face seemed almost bright with emotion and then he suddenly grabbed a handful of Bret's shirt above his left shoulder. He jerked it roughly, actually causing the material to tear and Bret gasped, startled and frightened, a squeak leaving him.
Jemayn ignored it, his gaze diverting between Bret's eyes and the spot of skin he had just exposed, "Look! Look! Do you see that!"
Bret swallowed and looked down. He stopped breathing as he saw what Jemayn had revealed. Right on his chest, curved near his armpit was a hideous scar. He looked at the ragged mark on his body and felt his whole nervous system freeze. He did not have a scar like that. Bret had never had a scar like that. That was...it...
"Impossible." Bret whispered.
Jemayn's eyes captured his again, "That is a life-ending wound. No one should be able to survive that. I would not have survived that...but you, you..." Jemayn shook his head, "You are strong. You are brave....you are more a man than I..."
Bret touched the scar tentatively. The skin was soft, tender, and he found his eyes meeting Jemayn's. Jemayn saw the confusion there, the fear and he relaxed slightly as he cupped his face again, "Oh my sweet Bretta..."
Bret felt tears fill his eyes and he broke, "Jemaine...Jemayn..Je...I don't...I don't know what's happening...I shouldn't...I shouldn't..."
"Shh," Jemayn whispered and drew him close, finally embracing him. He kissed the top of his head and rubbed at his back, "There, there...'twill be all right."
But Bret felt as if it would never be all right again.
Chapter 5
Author: she_burns1
Pairing: Bret/Jemaine, Bret/Jemayn, Bretta/Jemayn (...it'll make sense when you read it)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,719
Summary: Bret gets transported into a romance novel. No, really.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is all mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author’s Note: Crack!Fic. And yet still more build up...
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4
Once discovering he was trapped in a romance novel, many avenues as to how Bret would deal with this fact were open to him. He ended up settling on crying silently into his pillow, overwhelmed with a heady mixture of hysteria and fear.
How had this happened? And more importantly, how was he supposed to get out of it and back to his real life? He felt lost and miserable and heartsick. Bret never thought he would miss his dingy little apartment so much. And more than just his apartment, Jemaine.
He missed Jemaine.
It was strange to him, because there had been many times where he had thought life without Jemaine would be preferable. Like when Jemaine drank the last of the juice or when he managed to insert himself into Bret's relationships. But now that his band member was gone...
Or, well, not so gone...
Bret looked at his closed door and shifted about on his cold bed nervously. Would Jemayn come in here? The fact they slept across from one another, only separate by a door made him uneasy for some reason.
Funny that, considering he slept in the same room with Jemaine, his bed only inches from the other man's. Why had he never thought that odd before? Maybe it was because they had had to share the room out of necessity. Not any other reason. Though Bret did admit he found some comfort in having Jemaine sleep not far from him.
Many nights he fell asleep to the sound of Jemaine's deep and even breathing. It was a sort of hum, like that of a heater or a car engine or something. Whatever it was, it was comforting.
He was without it now and he curled in on himself, biting his bottom lip as he thought of the other Jemaine. Did he breathe the same way when he slept? He looked like Jemaine and he had moments where he seemed just like him but he was different.
He was so...hot blooded. And strong. And assertive.
Bret couldn't imagine Jemaine leading men into battle the same was Jemayn did. Nor could he imagine Jemaine with a whole manor full of people that he could have service his every whim.
Oh, Jemaine would like it, for sure, but Bret just couldn't picture it. The best he could imagine was Jemaine liking it for a while - but eventually being sort of...uncomfortable with the whole affair. Bret knew he would be uncomfortable.
And then there was his part here...Bretta. Coco (or not Coco, he supposed) had said he was nice. That reassured Bret a bit but he was starting to have the sinking suspicion that, much like Jemaine's counterpart, the Bret of this world was much more sure of himself.
Bretta sounded like a strong sort of individual. He had apparently survived a deadly injury, after all. And he took care of horses! Bret envied him that. To take care of such fine animals all day must have been nice. After his ride today, he could easily appreciate them. Certainly better than watching sheep.
The thought of the ride back brought swiftly to mind the memory of Jemayn pressed up against him and Bret felt his face go hot. It had all seemed so...wildly intimate. And the nature of Bretta and Jemaine's relationship...
Jemayn had kissed him.
And the things he had said...
Bret groaned and rolled his eyes. He could be naive about plenty of things but he was quite sure he got the message when it came to that. The two men most likely had had many man-man-lady threesomes but minus the lady making them man-man...twosomes.
Bret burrowed deep into his pillow, sniffling. Gay. His alternate-reality-romance-novel-countepart was gay. And with Jemayn.
He just...couldn't picture it. Or, okay, well, he could, because Jemayn had kissed him and he could picture that very quickly. His mind still had yet to fully digest it. It had happened so fast. Their mouths pressed together...
And Bret had not been curious. Not one bit. He had been shocked and appalled and had ended it quite quickly. So. He wasn't gay. He wasn't.
After all, seeing Coco had brought to mind how lovely she was. She was what he wanted because she was a 'she' and not a 'he'. Bret was not into 'he's'. Ladies not mens. Ladies.
Bret sighed, tossing and turning and hoping that maybe if he fell asleep he would wake up to find himself home, everything all right and as it should be.
* * * * *
"Get up."
Bret blinked, sunlight slicing into his room. He sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Mmm...hey, man, you wouldn't believe the dream I had..."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Bret yawned, "You were..."
His words dried up as his sleepy eyes cleared to reveal Jemayn sitting on the edge of his bed. Oh. Flip. Bret groaned and flopped back down on the bed, throwing one arm dramatically over his eyes.
"Bret?"
"Flip! Thought...maybe if I slept..."
Jemayn's eyes narrowed and he swatted at Bret's leg, "Come on! Time to get up!"
Bret buried his head under his pillow, "No thanks, mate."
"Do not make me drag you from this bed, thrall. You would not like it."
Bret whined grumpily, "Why should I? Get up...mean, I'm not...and stop calling me thrall! Don't even know what that means!"
Suddenly Bret felt a firm grip on his foot and he was tugged forwards swiftly, away from his pillow, he didn't even get a chance to breathe before he found himself flipped over, Jemayn over top of him, pinning him to the bed, holding his wrists tightly above his head as he stared down into his face, voice heated, "You are my thrall. Which means you are mine. I am your master. Do you understand me?"
Bret did his best not to whimper and failed miserably. Jemayn's weight crushed him to the bed and he felt heat tendril deep in the pit of his body. No, no, no...he did not want this. Damn, treacherous body. Maybe the blow to his head had effects his hormones or something...caused an imbalance.
Jemayn's grip tightened just so and Bret struggled weakly. Jemayn looked down at him hungrily, "You would be wise not to move again...I told Taika I would be gentle with you...take my time...but if you keep that up, I shall not be able to keep my promise."
Bret breathed out and a hideous part of his mind whispered an encouragement for him to move. He viciously stamped the thought out and quit struggling. There. Take that body! And... mind...apparently...
Yes, Bret was truly going crazy.
Jemayn gave him a grim little smile, "There. Better. See? I am not so terrible a master, now am I?"
"Can I...will you get off me now?" Bret gasped.
"Used to be a time you would have begged me not to get off you," Jemayn said, voice velvet and Bret valiantly tried to ignore the fact that he had started trembling. Jemayn sighed and drew away slowly, "Come...we have much to do today if your memory is to return."
Bret almost wanted to tell him that there was no memory to return. He wanted to inflict some sort of pain on this man. After all, he had just been overpowered and sort of emasculated. But Bret knew better.
He got to his feet and, thinking of last night, instead found himself saying quietly, "I'm...sorry. 'Bout last night. I didn't...I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of Mur-your Da-your Father."
Jemayn sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, "My Father is a good man. A bit befuddled now and again, but he showed me how to use a weapon and he can be quite fierce if called to it. I was...afraid for you. He can have quite a temper."
"Mur-your father?" Bret repeated incredulously, trying to imagine Murray being a blood thirsty fighter. Then again, he would never have imagined Jemaine that way had he not seen it before his very eyes.
Jemayn shrugged, "He has his moments...but more often than not, he is content to run his ledgers and take account of everything...he grew quite attached to that after my mother..."
He trailed off and Bret couldn't help but pat his arm lightly, "Sorry 'bout that too."
Jemayn sighed, "She was a lovely woman. Many a man would have had her, but only my father was worthy. They often spoke of her...even in song...her legs and her hair," he shrugged, "I do not look a whit like her...nor my father, for that matter...I was cursed with darker features. When I was young, I was often teased for it. Word would have it that the devil crept into my mother's womb and laid his hands upon me. They call me the Dark Beast in some parts of the world..."
Bret's lips quirked at the very idea, "'The Dark Beast'?"
Jemayn leveled him with a heated look, "You would deny it?"
Bret exhaled, remembering Jemayn's body pinning his to the bed, his hands on him, and he shook his head, "N-No."
Jemayn smiled fondly, "After a time, I was never such with you...I was always...you used to say you had tamed me."
"Oh?"
Jemayn looked at Bret and his smile faded, "No more, though, I would imagine."
Bret shifted from foot to foot, "I...suppose."
Jemayn let out a breath, sort of hopeless and sad and Bret couldn't help but feel his heart ache with it as the other man waved a hand towards the door, "Come, let us start."
* * * * *
Jemayn took Bret about the house and pointed out this or that. Bret actually wished he could remember something, because it felt almost morbid to go on this tour of another man's life. He felt like some sort of dreadful imposter who was trying to supplant himself into a place he did not belong.
But then, this was often how he thought of Jemayn, as he found himself wishing that the other man was the man he actually knew. The one he...was friends with. Bret didn't know why, but there was some weird, niggling feeling going on in the back of his head the more he thought of Jemaine and how much he missed him and it was...alarming.
It was almost as if...
Bret took in a deep breath and packed it all away, wanting to ignore every little bit of it. He tried instead to focus on what Jemayn told him about Bretta and the house and their life together.
Bret wanted to interject with questions now and then. Ask what year it was and what Jemayn was exactly - Viking, Knight, Warrior, what-have-you, but there was no way he could put this forward without sounding completely batty so he just nodded his head when appropriate.
They toured the fields and the area beyond where the land dropped off harshly, black water silent and still beneath, "This here be the Dead Man's Drop. When the weather is warmer, Taika and I often leap from here into the waters below."
Bret blinked, looking at the water, then at Jemayn, then back at the water again, "That's like...fifty feet down, man."
"Nay, 'tis not so far."
Bret looked around and, finding a rock, he let it fall over the cliff side. It landed in the waters below with a minimal splash and he looked at the ripples it made and back to Jemayn again, still stunned, "Seriously? Like...fifty feet."
Jemayn laughed and shook his head and for a moment Bret could almost see his Jemaine, could imagine him sticking his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet and looking sort of...bashful. Oh god, Jemayn was bashful!
"Trust me, Bret. 'Tis not so impressive."
Bret couldn't help but smile a little bit. He wanted to tease Jemayn about being shy but instead offered the other man an easy out, "So...what else is there?"
Jemayn gave him a cocky grin and patted at his arm, "I saved the best for last."
They walked away from the Drop and from the fields, towards the far right side of the house where a wall of trees rose up. Right on that edge of the forest there stood a ramshackle stable and from it came the sounds of different animals.
Bret did his best not to get too excited as he entered, "It's like a little zoo!"
"Zoo?" Jemayn repeated the word as if it left a strange taste in his mouth.
"Or, well, I mean, really, it's a farm-" Bret muttered quickly, eyes taking in all the different stalls. Most of them housed fine horses and he saw a few that had cows and goats pinned up. The last stall, however, was the best and Bret breathed out the moment he saw the big black stallion, eyes big as saucers, "Flip..."
The majestic creature walked towards him fluidly and Bret wasn't even aware he was holding out his hand until the creature stuck its' long head almost demurely under his fingers. Bret stroked the stallion's mane and Jemayn leaned against a wall, watching them, his voice soft, "No memories may come to you, but it matters little in his eyes. To him, you are ever the same."
Bret barely heard him, instead marveling at how well this big animal responded to him. Bret had never considered himself...oh, what was that Doctor's name? The one who was good with animals? Doctor Zhivago? No, that wasn't it...
He shook his head, it didn't matter who it was, Bret only knew he had never thought of himself as being in league with them, but now...every animal he had seen had responded so well to him. It was odd, but wonderful, and Bret found himself entering the stallion's stall, his hands journeying further.
Jemayn just laughed, "It's still incredible to me to see this. Most people would get kicked standing where you are..."
Bret just shrugged, his bottom lip sticking out, "Dunno, man...he just likes me."
"Albi likes no one. He just finds a kindred spirit in you, as he does me."
"Albi?" Bret repeated, "Really?"
Jemayn gave him a funny look and Bret just shrugged, smiling, as he continued to rub his hand along the stallion's side, "So this is...what? Your war horse?"
He nodded, "My father gave him to me. Ah, but he was spirited then. No one could get near him. He was wild and struck fear into the heart of any who dared approach him. But...for whatever reason...he responded well to me. He lets only me ride him ...well, that was before you."
Bret blinked and pointed at himself, "What? Who? Me?"
"Mm," Jemayn nodded and walked closer. He held out his own hand and Albi, eager for extra attention, lowered his head again so Jemayn could stroke at his mane as well, "You came and Albi was instantly like this with you. Gentle as kitten. It was stunning. Half the reason I had you in the stables. You were the only one past me who could handle him."
Bret licked his lips, trepidation strong in him even as he spoke, "How...how did I come to...be in your service?"
Jemayn drew away from Albi and Bret both, leaning against the wall once more, "Also my father. He gave you to me. You were my first thrall. I had never had one before. Frankly the idea of it left me cold. After all, I had been with my Father to many courts throughout my youth. I saw how others treated theirs and I couldn't...see myself having any. But my father was most insistent. 'Twould be unseemingly, he told me, to not have at least one. Especially considering he has over a dozen in his own household."
Jemayn rubbed at his neck, "Still, I knew not what to do with you, and when first I received you, you would not speak a word. So, I just...went about my life as usual. And you followed after me...then, when I saw you interact with Albi...the decision became natural."
"So...what? We became friends?"
Jemayn licked his lips, "Not quite. I was...betrothed. Set to wed the Lady Sarah."
Bret's eyes widened. Jemayn had almost married Sally?
"But then, one night, she stole herself away. She had had her mind set to marry Lord Marcus, though she told none of this to me. Oh no, to me she played the part of doting lover and future wife well."
Bret felt a stab of pity and was about to voice it, when Jemayn cleared his throat and continued, "You...had not spoken to me often before then...nor, really, much after, but...your...attitude around me did change by a margin. You seemed...more visible, I suppose. More attentive."
Bret tried to picture himself this way and couldn't. To be at Jemaine's beck and call. The most he had ever done that was the time Jemaine had been so sick that he had barely been able to get out the bed to use the toilet. And even then, Bret had grumped about it.
Jemayn continued, "And when I did ask you to do something you would reply in a way that seemed," he shook his head, "'Tis juvenile, but...it was like you were...saying something within something else. Like a hidden message."
"Did I say 'as you wish'?"
Jemayn looked startled, "You remember?"
Bret's mouth flapped silently. He had not expected to hear that. In fact, he had said it in effect of being sort of a smart ass. Jemaine would have gotten it. Bret had made him watch 'Princess Bride' at least a million times. Bret just kept forgetting that this was not his Jemaine and that this one had no idea that that movie existed - hell, he had no concept of movies period.
What he did have though, was a face that edged on desperation. And Bret, who normally abhorred lying, couldn't help but feel the need to give him something, no matter how little, "...I said it didn't, I?"
Jemayn smiled so warmly that Bret couldn't help but look down at his feet, "That's...that's wonderful, Bretta. Just..."
Jemayn entered the stall and came closer to Bret, who still couldn't quite look at him. Jemayn's hands rose, sort of floating for a moment, trying to decide where to land. It was as if he wanted to pull the other man into a hug, but did not know how to do it.
Finally he settled for resting a hand on his shoulder and patting it, "One memory is better than none. Does it...does it feel good? To-to remember just a little?"
Bret felt guilt flood through him and opened his mouth, a broken 'I' leaving him but he didn't get any farther as he now looked at Jemayn's face. It was so like Jemaine's, but there was...something else there. Something in the eyes. He looked at Bret as if Bret was the most important person in the world.
Jemayn's other hand rose up and cupped Bret's face and Bret sucked in a breath, drawing away from it, "N-No. Don't. Don't."
"What?" Jemayn whispered.
Bret bit his lip and shook his head, not meeting the other man's eyes, "You can't...I'm not..."
"Bret..."
"Jemayn," His chest felt tight and this was so humiliating. He didn't want to have to explain this, the man should just know. Jemaine knew. Bret struggled to find the words, embarrassment overwhelming, "I don't...it's...'s not right, man. K-kissing another guy, it's...and, mean, Dave told me once that someone's always got to be the lady and with you picking me up like a satchel and throwing an axe around-"
Jemayn did not understand a lot of what Bret had just said, but he thought he picked up on the message, "You think...being with me makes you less of a man?"
Bret felt a lump in his throat and hated the fact that it was unexplainable as he nodded.
Jemayn suddenly took a fierce hold of both his shoulders and turned him to face him fully, "Bret, look at me."
Bret avoided his eyes.
Jemayn shook him, "I am your master! You will obey! Now look at me, damn you!"
Bret looked at him but he felt as if he was staring into the sun. Jemayn's face seemed almost bright with emotion and then he suddenly grabbed a handful of Bret's shirt above his left shoulder. He jerked it roughly, actually causing the material to tear and Bret gasped, startled and frightened, a squeak leaving him.
Jemayn ignored it, his gaze diverting between Bret's eyes and the spot of skin he had just exposed, "Look! Look! Do you see that!"
Bret swallowed and looked down. He stopped breathing as he saw what Jemayn had revealed. Right on his chest, curved near his armpit was a hideous scar. He looked at the ragged mark on his body and felt his whole nervous system freeze. He did not have a scar like that. Bret had never had a scar like that. That was...it...
"Impossible." Bret whispered.
Jemayn's eyes captured his again, "That is a life-ending wound. No one should be able to survive that. I would not have survived that...but you, you..." Jemayn shook his head, "You are strong. You are brave....you are more a man than I..."
Bret touched the scar tentatively. The skin was soft, tender, and he found his eyes meeting Jemayn's. Jemayn saw the confusion there, the fear and he relaxed slightly as he cupped his face again, "Oh my sweet Bretta..."
Bret felt tears fill his eyes and he broke, "Jemaine...Jemayn..Je...I don't...I don't know what's happening...I shouldn't...I shouldn't..."
"Shh," Jemayn whispered and drew him close, finally embracing him. He kissed the top of his head and rubbed at his back, "There, there...'twill be all right."
But Bret felt as if it would never be all right again.