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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Amber Waves - 22. Chapter 22

AARON

Heated stones pressed down on Aaron’s back. The elf moaned, closing his eyes as the warmth spread through his body.
“What did I tell you?” Amber said beside him. “This isn’t even the best part; this is just them softening our backs so they’re easier to work.”
“I believed you,” Aaron insisted, resting his head against the face cradle. “I’m just not used to actually having time to do this.”
“I apologise for that.” Amber sighed quietly. “I really should have been more attentive to your needs, instead of trying to cram as much as I could into as little time as possible.”
“Mother, it’s okay,” Aaron soothed. “If I couldn’t handle it, I’d tell you.”
“Unfortunately, the worst is yet to come,” Amber said, turning her head to face her son.
“Worse than Lord Khuyag?” Aaron laughed. His mirth faded at Amber’s frown.
“Much worse,” the queen said. “But try not to worry too much. Relax, enjoy your time here. We can deal with that when we return to Astara.”
Aaron stared down at the floor. Relax. Right. Because he could totally relax after that little bombshell. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what she was talking about. Even after six years as Crown Prince, he had never once been permitted in the restricted section of the library, where state secrets were held under armed guard. The room was sealed with magic so there could be no entry without the proper key, and the only key in existence was held by Jason Farin.
When he was new to the palace, Aaron had made a game of trying to get the key, first from Alisa, then from Jason. He’d been rebuffed each time, but that only made him more determined. If he was the prince, he should have access to those secrets.
Now, Aaron wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The room had slipped comfortably to the back of his mind. What use was it to him when there were much more important matters at hand?
And what was so horrible the queen refused to discuss the matter even with her son?
Thoughts flickered through his mind — doomsday weapons, mind control, a temporal mage, the existence of aliens… He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear his mind. Whatever was in that room, it would wait.
The prince sighed as the rocks worked their magic. Tension bled from his body, almost against his will. Forced to relax — was that even a thing? The rocks vanished, one by one, and soft hands began kneading into Aaron’s back.
Time lost all meaning. He must have dozed off a few times, only to wake up to hands moving over his shoulders, down his legs, over his feet. After the sauna, and now the massage, Aaron wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stand properly again.
But all good things must end. Soon, Amber was helping him to his feet. The oil covering his back felt strange, and he was grateful when Amber directed him to a bathing room.
“Make sure you read the labels,” Amber warned before he went inside. “The first time I was here, I ended up smelling like grapefruit.”
“Noted,” Aaron grinned, heading into the room beyond.
He was grateful for the warning. There were a plethora of tiny bottles, each with a different scent. It would have been easy to just grab a random bottle and end up smelling like wolf musk or something.
Aaron sat in the shower for what felt like ages. Hot water flowed over him, wrapping him in a sandalwood hug. When he finally emerged, cleaned of any oils, the prince returned to the common room to find Amber reading a book.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked, looking up.
“Absolutely. I mean, it’s just a shower, but it felt like more than that for some reason.” Aaron rubbed the back of his head, chuckling quietly. “That probably sounds dumb.”
“As long as you are happy,” Amber smiled. “Come on. We have facials scheduled. We have to look our best for the cameras, after all.”
Aaron followed his mother from the room, a warm feeling deep in his chest.
“Gods, I wish Itumak was here for this.”

ITUMAK

Hands ran over his body as lips feathered against his. Itumak moaned quietly, thrusting against the neko frisking him.
He was surprised. Surely the neko wasn’t the one capturing other nekos to be milked. No member of his race would ever stoop so low. Yet Itumak knew when he was being patted down, searched for anything dangerous.
Gods, he prayed Captain Darren checked his phone. His message should have been sent a minute ago. If the captain was fast — and Itumak knew he was — he would be scrambling the local guard, giving them the frequency of the ear piece buried in Itumak’s ear. All of the palace guards’ equipment was bugged and tracked; if a guard ever went rogue, the others needed to find them and put them down as fast as possible. Now, that would save Itumak’s life.
“Do you mind if we go to my place?” the neko murmured in Itumak’s ears.
“If it would make you more comfortable.” Itumak breathed around the skeleton key hidden under his tongue.
This was a familiar role. All he had to do was be himself. And keep moving. If Captain Darren saw the tracker stay still for over ten minutes, he’d have his target. And Itumak had to get the location right.
The orange Ythin took his hand, tugging him toward an alley. A minute later, Itumak was led into a decrepit house. He could absolutely believe this was a Mydaran neko’s house; elves certainly wouldn’t care if nekos could barely survive the winter.
His shirt was pulled off, and the Ythin pressed against Itumak. Furry fingers scrabbled at Itumak’s pants, and the Niwo kicked the clothes off. Where they landed, he had no idea.
He was guided into a stairwell. The glow of a dim light offered some relief from the gloom below. As he backed carefully down the steps, Itumak pulled the Ythin’s shirt off. He almost cried. The neko was barely skin and bones. No wonder he’d been wearing a sweater; it hid any hint of his emaciated body.
The Ythin pushed more, guiding Itumak back until he hit a brick wall. Shadows filled the room. He was certain there were other nekos down here, chained, probably gagged, but Itumak couldn’t see them.
“You ever been tied down before?” the Ythin breathed.
Itumak’s dick throbbed. That was interesting; he’d have to explore that thought when he got out of here. He shook his head against the Ythin’s lips, and let the neko pull his arms behind his back.
Velvet cuffs bound Itumak’s wrists together, and the Ythin yanked down the Niwo’s underpants, leaving Itumak bare. Soft hands groped his ass, and fingers slid up his crack — it had taken the neko long enough to get there. His sheath was pulled back, not that it could really hide anything in its current state.
“He’s clean,” the neko said, stepping back.
“What? Yeah, I’m clean,” Itumak frowned. “I always use protection.”
“Shut up,” a low voice growled. An elf emerged from the gloom, a calculating gleam in his eyes. “Strong, very strong. You’ll last a while.”
“Did I do good, Master?”
“Yeah.” The elf shoved a dropper at the Ythin, who suckled on it desperately. “Leave us.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Itumak demanded as the Ythin scurried out of sight. “What’s going on? If you want a go, I’m charging double for elves.”
“I said shut up!” The elf’s fist slammed into Itumak’s eye, and the neko’s head knocked back against the wall.
“Fuck….”
That put a damper on his boner…. Itumak slid to the ground, and his back pressed against a rough brick wall.
“If I catch you making any sound, I will put a bullet in your head,” the elf snarled.
Too cheap for gags then. Dumbass. Itumak fought the urge to spit in the elf’s face. The last thing he needed was to accidentally spit the key out.
Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and another elf came into sight. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Itumak.
“You fucking dumbass! That’s the prince’s pet!” she snarled. “I knew I recognised him!”
“What?” the other elf demanded.
Itumak scoffed, leaning his throbbing head back. Bad idea — touching the back of his head was agonising.
“You fuckers really can’t tell nekos apart,” he laughed bitterly. “I’m not Itumak Nareen. But you elves always want to pay extra to pretend you’re fucking Prince Aaron’s pet.” Itumak spat the last word, letting his rage leak out.
“How do you know his name then?” The second elf snarled.
“How could I not? Elves mistake me for him all the fucking time.”
They’d been down here for… about three minutes? Itumak wasn’t sure. That blow to his head was making thinking a little too painful. But surely Captain Darren had the local guards on the line by now, and was explaining the situation. Itumak just had to convince these elves that he was just a common whore. Shouldn’t be hard.
“We can’t take the chance.” Itumak blinked. Where had that gun come from? Shit, they weren’t supposed to recognise him. How the fuck was he supposed to get out of this?!
“Wait! If it is him, killing him will be the death of us all!” the second elf snapped. “We’ll set up a ransom. If it is him, Prince Aaron will pay through the nose to get him back. If not, well, he’s not going anywhere.”
A relieved breath slipped from Itumak as the gun fell.
“Fine. But he gets no water. I don’t like his attitude,” the first elf growled.
They retreated back upstairs, and a door slammed shut. Itumak’s ears picked out the clicking of a lock. No escaping that way, then. Now the lack of cuffs on his legs made sense. They really were that cheap.
Well, that was their problem then. Itumak rolled his tongue around, pushing the key to the front of his lips. He turned his head and twisted so his hand was — hopefully — under his mouth.
Dropping the key was one of the scariest moments so far in his life. If he misjudged the distance and missed his hand, the neko would never find the key in this gloom.
But the metal landed in the palm of his hand. Twisting again, Itumak felt around for the cuff’s lock. Contorting his hand to fit the key inside was a little painful, but he did not want to be cuffed when the cavalry arrived.
The lock’s click sounded like a gunshot. Itumak’s ears flattened, and he stared in the direction of the stairs, waiting with bated breath for any sign he’d been caught. He released his breath slowly after a few tense seconds.
“Guard… inbound on… location.”
He had never been so happy to hear Captain Darren’s pissed-off voice in his life. Itumak wasn’t too worried — his friendship with the Crown Prince had to come with a few perks, like not being drummed out of the guard for deliberately ignoring an order to stay away from the brothels. Especially once Aaron heard the reason.
“If anyone is down here,” Itumak said quietly, “you are going to hear gunshots in a few minutes. Someone will come downstairs to kill us. I will make sure they do not get the chance.”
He rubbed his wrists, making sure he kept the cuffs in hand. A dozen strategies flashed through his mind. He couldn’t move until he heard the guards; if the elves came back and found him loose, he’d be in trouble. Itumak was certain he could reach the stairs before the door opened. The biggest risk was deciding whether to shift or to choke the elf out.
Seconds stretched into agonising minutes. Itumak touched the back of his head gingerly. No blood, at least none he could feel. At least that was looking up. His eye was killing him though — he’d probably have a black eye to show Aaron later. Itumak sighed. The elf was going to make a huge deal out of that, he just knew it.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Itumak strained his ears — was that the sound of a car door? No gunshots. Shit, maybe they weren’t stupid enough to actually fight the guards. He took a deep breath and shifted. Whatever happened next, the neko had made his move.
“No one move!” the male elf snarled, storming down the stairs. “Itumak Nareen, you’re coming with me.”
A crash echoed from the stairs. Itumak shifted, creeping through the shadows as the elf looked around. The wolf sized up his opponent. Gun in his left hand. Flashlight in his right. Both could be lethal, but Itumak knew which would be worse.
He crouched. Lunge, do not jump. Captain Darren’s incessant drills drummed through his mind.
“Where the fuck are you, you beast?”
Itumak lunged.
His teeth clamped around the elf’s left arm. The bone crunched in his jaws. The elf bellowed, falling to the ground.
Itumak felt his grip slipping. He clenched harder, trying to pin the elf down. The flashlight slammed into his face, and Itumak yelped.
He realised too late his mistake. The elf crawled to his knees, gun shaking in his right hand. A light burned Itumak’s eyes. Was that it? No bang, no pain, just death?
“Drop your weapon!”
Tears flooded Itumak’s eyes. He hobbled to his feet as the gun clattered to the ground. Captain Darren kept his gun trained on the elf as a pair of guards rushed forward. Around the room, weak cries broke out, and Itumak shuddered as over a dozen nekos crawled to the centre of the room, into the light of salvation.
He shifted back, spitting blood from his mouth. Staggering to his feet, Itumak came face to face with Captain Darren.
“I swear to the gods, if you ever pull shit like this again, you will be out of the guard so fast, whether you’re Prince Aaron’s friend or not,” the man snarled.
“Thank you….” Itumak sucked in a ragged breath, just keeping himself from trying to hug the captain. But he couldn’t keep the sob from his throat. “Thank you….”

AMBER

The queen of Astara leaned over a balcony, watching a pair of guards spar with swords. It was as much a spectacle to her as it would be to the tourists — Astaran guards hadn’t practised sword fighting for decades. Here, guards were just as much actors as they were actual guards.
A black car pulled into the castle drive, and Captain Darren stepped out. Itumak emerged from the car, his face heavily bandaged and his torso covered by a rough blanket. Amber’s heart sank.
She whirled into the bedroom and turned on the news, already dreading what she would see.
A video of Itumak, butt naked and covered in blood, sprawled across the screen. Amber groaned as she watched the palace guard wrap blankets around emaciated nekos emerging from a decrepit house. He shielded their eyes from the sun, offering them respite from the agony of daylight after the gods knew how long in the dark. Captain Darren approached finally, and shoved a blanket into Itumak’s hands, making it clear in no uncertain terms that he needed to cover himself.
But the damage was done.
“A joint operation between Astaran guards and local Mydaran forces have arrested several elves in connection with a neko farm,” the newscaster said as the video repeated. “Instrumental in the discovery of the farm is Prince Aaron’s close friend and personal guard, Itumak Nareen-”
Amber shut the tv off. She could hear Aaron outside, his anger obvious despite the indistinct words. This was bound to be splashed on every screen in the kingdom. Damage control would be nigh impossible.
“Fuck!”
Amber smacked the bed, seething. How had the city guards missed this? Why the fuck were there palace guards involved?! If it had just been city guards, it could be passed off as just the guard doing their job. But no, palace guards had to make this a royal matter, directly dragging the Crown into the thick of things. Now people would ask what the Crown was doing while nekos were being abused. Were they condoning neko farms? Did they not care about the nekos? What about Prince Aaron, who had time and again announced he was a friend to all nekos? How could he make that claim when he did nothing to stop this cruelty?
Emotion warred within her. Relief for the victims, joy they’d been rescued. And a dark, bitter corner of her brain that bemoaned they hadn’t been left below, where they couldn’t stain anyone’s reputation.
She hated that part of herself. But it was a necessary evil as the ruler of the kingdom. She had to constantly balance being human with warding off controversy. And Itumak’s actions had hurled them straight into the controversy side.
Worse, Aaron’s yells had reached a feverish pitch. The prince was near hysterical, and the press would absolutely eat this shit up.
Amber rushed from her room. She strode through the castle, ignoring the servants that leapt out of her way.
Bursting into the afternoon light, the queen of Astara stormed toward her son.
“Aaron! Hold your tongue!” Aaron startled, spinning around. His face was red, and tears ran over his cheeks. Amber drew herself up, hissing, “There are cameras on us at this very moment. The last thing we need is for you to be seen berating a neko.”
“My apologies, Mother.” Aaron sniffed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I am beset with worry.”
“I understand that, and I understand that Itumak’s actions could have left you without your closest friend. But the press will take every single word you yell at him and twist it to their own end,” Amber stressed. “You cannot forget that.”
“Yes, Mother,” Aaron breathed.
“Guard Itumak.” Amber turned on the neko. “It goes without saying that I am absolutely livid with you.”
“I’m sorry, your Majesty,” Itumak said. “I needed to help my people.”
“Instead, what you did was make the city guard look ineffectual. You made the palace guard handle a matter that they should never have been involved with. Because of you, every head in Astara is asking, does Prince Aaron really love the nekos?”
“I will tell anyone-”
“You will not say a word to anyone,” Amber interrupted. “You have done quite enough damage already.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
Itumak dipped his head.
“Now for the love of the gods, go get some clothes on.”
“Thank you, your Majesty.”
Bowing, Itumak turned toward the barracks. Amber waited until he was out of sight.
“That neko is going to be the death of me,” she sighed.
“That makes two of us,” Aaron muttered. “I will be in my room if my presence is needed.”
The elf bowed, before stalking back into the castle, and leaving Queen Amber to stew in her thoughts.

Copyright © 2022 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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24 minutes ago, drsawzall said:

Queen Amber needs a better PR outfit to combat what will be bad press, someone has to come up with a better cover story...most importantly...the bastards were caught and if able, let's hear them sing...there has to be other fish to fry!!! 

It's a fine pickle they've all found themselves in. Hopefully a happy ending can be had for all, and justice served.

  • Fingers Crossed 3
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