A Question of Tine - 3. Dreams and Reality…

Tine was dreaming. At least he thought he was dreaming. He felt odd -- like he was awake, but not quite. He remembered he needed to be awake, but he didn't remember exactly why. The other boys in the dorm appeared to be sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware that he wasn't.

The door opened slowly and Tine felt his heart beat faster. His breath came in short hitches. Then, like in his previous dreams, Bra-Neche slipped through wearing only a pair of trews. Tine's forehead furrowed for a moment, as he considered the thought that if he were dreaming then Bra-Neche would be nude too. Tine blinked and the Imperial had crossed the space to where Tine waited, lounging on the bed, uncovered, and waiting. If this were a dream, then he wanted to enjoy it.

Bra-Neche was relieved to find Tine awake, although he was slightly unfocused. It had taken a little help from a certain herb Reetik provided to provide them a little privacy where none should be had. The others would dream happy, if slightly erotic, dreams, but Tine, who had received a slightly different mixture, would live his. Bra-Neche grinned at his human, slightly barring his fangs. Tine smiled back, his fingers fluttering over his taut stomach in invitation. A soft giggle followed as Bra-Neche climbed into the bed with him.

"I would like to bring you pleasure." Bra-Neche whispered against the offered skin. "Allow me."

Tine said nothing as he arched slightly against Bra-Neche's hand, spreading his legs slightly to allow better access to the parts that seemed to want the most attention. The soft mewing sounds confirmed to Bra-Neche this was right and good. His human craved his touch, and soon he would crave other things as well, even if he would not remember in the morning. Turning Tine slightly, Bra-Neche positioned himself behind his lover, nuzzling Tine's neck, scraping the tender flesh along his shoulder with sharp fangs. When Tine cried out in pleasure, Bra-Neche bled him, taking the first step in claiming the human as his.

The dream had come again, and for the third time in a week Tine woke sluggishly as consciousness returned with the movement of other bodies around him. He groaned as he lay against the soiled bedding, wondering if today would be like the past times he dreamed of the jewel tones. As before, he found it frustrating that he could not recall much of anything. When ever he thought on it, a kaleidoscope of color marred his memories and his head ached, so he tried not to think on it too much, however there was a lingering feeling that something did happen. Something important. Something he would want to remember. And he ached, but it was a good kind of ache -- the kind earned from working newly discovered muscles. He found himself aching for whatever happened to happen again, yet, he feared it would happen again.

Once he was more or less awake, he decided it would be less of a hassle to not move yet. Around him, his year-mates woke, tended their morning absolutions, and headed down to the exercise yard. Tine groaned as he stretched lazily in the bed.

Aiden turned to him, “Tine, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He lied sleepily, “just still tired.” How could he explain the dichotomy of his feelings to his best friend? He could barely understand it himself as the half-formed images tumbled around in his mind, images he could not place nor explain. Tine closed his eyes and focused on trying to remember what happened while he slept that would cause him to ache from the top of his blond head to the soles of his lightly bronzed feet.

His head swam whenever he opened his eyes. The other boys dressed and headed down to morning exercise. Tine could hear the morning drills beginning through the open window.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there before someone came to check on him.

“Hello, Tine. How are you feeling?” Deven asked as he flipped the blanket back so he could look Tine over. The reason for Tine’s sated sleepiness was plain to see in the twin prick marks on his shoulder above the collar bone. Otherwise, he appeared whole and unharmed.

“Sleepy, confused,” Tine said quietly.

Deven nodded, “You were not ready, but you will survive. Is this the first time this has happened?” Deven continued his examination as they spoke. Tine’s limbs were long, straight, well muscled with a light dusting of hair sprouting where it should be for a boy of his maturity. His torso was lean, his rib cage prominent, but it didn’t appear as if his growth been stunted or hindered in any way. He was small though, almost too small for the Imperials to be taking an interest in him, although clearly one had.

Tine shook his head, but then wished he hadn’t.

“No? How many other times has it happened?”

“Twice,” Tine admitted, “earlier this week, but this time is different.”

Deven sighed. “Yes, this time is different. Well, nothing can change what has been done. Come on, get out of bed. The fresh air will do you good.”

Deven tugged Tine into a sitting position, and then opened his clothing chest. He was surprised to find whites among the browns.

“When did you receive your whites?”

“A little over a week ago,” Tine admitted as Deven passed him one of the new trews.

“Why haven’t you worn them?”

Tine shrugged as he held them, still folded. “I received them early. I’ll be moving into my new dorm soon enough as it is. I would prefer a pair of the browns, please.”

“That boy, the one who came to get me…” Deven frowned as he couldn’t place the name.

“Aiden,” Tine supplied the name.

“Yes -- Aiden -- is he the reason you’ve not moved out yet? Most boys would have been gone the moment they received their whites.”

Tine shook his head, but then grimaced again. “Aiden should be getting his whites soon.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Deven probed.

“He will,” Tine stated, no doubt at all in his response as he stood up and retrieved his own well-worn brown tunic and trews, placing the whites back in the chest.

Deven pulled the white uniform back out, “You might as well wear these, since you did earn them.” Deven handed the whites to Tine, “But, don’t get too comfortable in the tunic. You will be wearing red as of today.”

“Red?” Tine looked at him, “I’ve not requested Imperial Guard training.”

“You may not have requested it, but you apparently began it when you bested an Imperial at staves.”

“That was not my choice,” Tine shook his head in denial. “I want…”

“It does not matter what you want,” Deven growled at the young human, “Your path is now chosen and you will walk it.”

A short time later, Deven led a fuming Tine down the stairs wearing his new white trews and a very red tunic.

“Wait here while I make the proper arrangements for you,” he said, “You might want to pack your things, you’ll be moving to the guard barracks.”

Tine nodded and began removing his personal effects from his space.

With the task of getting someone to tend to Tine finished, Deven went to the Imperial’s building. He climbed the stairs to the top floor turning over the morning’s events in his mind trying to determine the best way to salvage the most possible from the situation.

Striding back and forth on the landing at the top of the stairs, Bra-Neche waited. He looked as if he had left his room in a hurry as he was scantly-dressed with just a pair of low-hanging, loose leggings covering his tall, lanky body, and he had not finished combing his waist-length, raven-black hair.

Deven nodded at him to acknowledge his presence, and then turned to go to his office, which was along the inner corridor. Bra-Neche followed, his dark irises swirling with worry.

“Is there a problem, Bra-Neche?” Deven asked the boy.

Bra-Neche looked back down the hall toward the stairs, and then back at his uncle, who frowned as he studied his nephew’s flushed face and his glow of good health. Bra-Neche took a deep breath, which caused his well-muscled chest and broad shoulders to rise and fall. Then Bra-Neche managed to screw up enough courage to ask, “Will he live?”

Deven stared at his sister’s son, the question unanswered. When he did speak, he forced himself to be casual, non-caring even, “What of it? If he lives, he will eventually from a suitable bond. If he does not live… well some do not.” Deven shrugged, and then turned to open his door.

“I would prefer if he lived…” Bra-Neche said softly.

“It might be better if he does not.” Deven said sharper than he intended, “He is too young. You are too young. Neither of you should be thinking about this yet, especially you.”

“Isn’t that why I was sent here?” Bra-Neche reached out and grabbed his uncle’s shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’ve been sitting in with the others? To learn how to choose a mate?”

Deven narrowed his eyes and allowed his voice to carry a bit of a growl, “You are here to learn, not to do. No one gave you permission to court any of the boys here, much less a very young and very impressionable year-eight.”

Bra-Neche bowed his head, “Yes, Uncle.”

“And, Bra-Neche, if the boy dies, his death will be on your soul.”

Bra-Neche blanched, swallowed hard, backed up two steps, and then turned to flee down the hall to his appointed room.

Tine sat on the edge of the stripped bed and waited. His trunk was packed with his few personal possessions, mainly clothing and a few books, and was now sitting near the door. He looked up as the door opened to see Aiden enter.

“What’s going on?” Aiden asked. “Why are you wearing those clothes? What did Deven say?”

“I received my whites a while ago; I just didn’t tell any one. Deven reminded me that I should be wearing them, not letting them molder in my chest. ” Tine sighed. “Deven told me I didn’t die, as if that wasn’t obvious. I’ll be starting guard training as of today.”

“You scared me.” Aiden admitted in a whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Tine reached out and caressed his best friend’s face. He wanted strongly to comfort Aiden, to make it all right, but he knew that behavior was unacceptable. However, Aiden leaned into the caress, his eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips.

“Tine?” a voice came from behind them and Aiden jerked away, his eyes opening wide in fear. Tine looked to see an older boy who was wearing one red tunic and carrying another in his hand. “Deven said you may need some instruction on what is now expected of you.” He laughed, “Guess he was right.”

Tine looked at Aiden and blushed.

Aiden stammered, “I should go,” then he bolted for the door.

This was why he had not put on the whites. He felt strange, light headed. Then it was gone and so was Aiden. Tine wanted to call him back and tell him that he wouldn’t go. That it was all a mistake. But he knew it wasn’t. He knew that he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. His life was calling to him from his dreams and he would follow them. He looked up at the other youth who was now holding out the red tunic and realized he had been talking to him. “I’m sorry; I’m a little distractible this morning. What did you say?

“I said, congratulations, you are now a Trainee in the Imperial Guards. Grab your things, we’re missing morning drills.”

Tine stared at him for a moment, and then asked, “Who are you?”

“Lizan, your new roommate.”

Tine frowned, but followed, not liking how his life was being turned upside down.