The In Between - 15. The Queen of Charion

15 ~The Queen of Charion~

It took everything that Salvo had just to get Brandon on a horse, never mind riding solo. But Jordan told him that he had to enter the city on horseback or else draw suspicion, and since it was Jordan and Brandon didn't want to come across like a pussy, he reluctantly climbed atop the patient brown mare that was now his. Jordan rode with him a while, letting him get used to the feeling. Jordan had good control of their horse, and while they weren't riding at a breakneck pace, they weren't dawdling either. Brandon found it to be rather pleasant, looking around at the scenery and having an easy excuse to hold onto Jordan's waist.

"See that?" Jordan said as the inn where they had been staying dropped away behind them. Brandon looked in the direction Jordan was pointing. "That is where our real guard is remaining well occupied."

Brandon saw a tree lined path with some of the longer branches crisscrossing overhead, giving it a mysterious, green dappled glow. "What's down there?"

"A dwelling of ill repute."

"Come again?"

"A brothel, Brandon. A whorehouse. A place where you pay women to-"

"I know what a brothel is," Brandon hastily interjected. "Why is he there?"

Jordan chuckled. "I'm guessing he wasn't getting a whole lot at the Eastern Palace, though I can't imagine why. They are quite libidinous there. Anyway, I told him that I would be several days because I had to travel to my own village and back. Technically, he was supposed to accompany me, but it didn't take much to convince him that his time would be best spent under the attention of someone with a pair of breasts. Security is lax enough not to notice an extra guard, but not so lax that I can get into the palace without a guard accompanying me."

"This other guard won't get in trouble for being AWOL?"

"Maybe a slap on the wrist for reporting back later than he was supposed to, but he won't mention losing track of his charge and just assume I managed to get back inside the palace using other means."

Brandon wished he felt as confident as Jordan sounded, because from where he was standing, it sounded like there were a lot of things that could go wrong. He would just have to hope that Jordan had everything figured out.

He was a little relieved when they stopped after a few hours to take a break. The guard's outfit was hot and stuffy and Brandon was feeling a little lightheaded. Sweat dampened his undershirt and caused his hair to cling to his scalp and neck in an itchy, untidy mess. He took the water that Jordan offered eagerly, guzzling it down and only stopping when he started to feel sick.

He sighed and offered token resistance when Jordan gestured him back towards the horse, but managed to get back into the saddle. His confidence faltered when Jordan refused to get back onto the horse with him, explaining that they would be near the city soon and that Brandon, as a guard, was expected to be on his horse and he was not. Brandon was grateful that the horse, apparently well trained, knew what to do and where to go, because Brandon was so nervous he could barely hold the reins, letting them sit slack in his sweaty hands.

Soon the city became visible, sitting behind a set of ornate gates. When they approached, all Brandon did was follow Jordan's instructions from earlier and pulled out his badge, a small thick square of leather with a guard's symbol printed on it, and held it up for inspection. The gate guard glanced at it, then nodded and waved Brandon and Jordan on through.

Slightly relieved that the first checkpoint was as easy as Jordan had promised, Brandon relaxed slightly, taking in the city. It was laid out with neatly paved streets forming a tidy grid pattern. Small houses, some ornate and some simple, made up the majority of the city. As they progressed inward, Brandon saw more shops and buildings, people walking and riding horses. A handful of them were blatantly nonhuman, and Brandon found himself staring until Jordan quietly murmured for him to stop. The castle itself was a rather squat, round looking building in comparison to what Brandon was expecting, which was a castle with towers and spires, like in Cinderella or the Harry Potter movies. He was mildly disappointed.

The guards at the palace gates were much shrewder than those at the entrance, wanting to know their business and inspecting Brandon's badge much more carefully. Eventually they were allowed to pass. Jordan told Brandon to dismount, and as they approached, a young man came by to take his horse. Brandon, who was quite glad to be rid of it, gave the reins over gratefully.

“Ready?” Jordan asked under his breath. He fisted his hand into the strap of his satchel to keep himself for reaching for Brandon.

Brandon just nodded. He was ready to handle the front door guardsman, but apparently no interference from Brandon was needed, for the guard at the entrance smiled easily as they approached and spoke to Jordan.

"Good to see you back, Sir Adam," the door guard said, and it took Brandon a couple of bewildered seconds before he remembered their plan of using their middle names in situations where using their real names would be too perilous. This would definitely qualify.

"Good to be back," Jordan smoothly answered, smiling back. Brandon held up his badge and it was hardly given a glance as the guard opened the front door for them. It banged shut behind them somewhat ominously. Brandon glanced around, finding himself in a long hallway, lined by windows that sent sun light streaming through to cast bright squares on the stone floor.

He followed Jordan, who apparently knew where he was going. "The layout of the castle is simple but complicated at the same time. I know how to get to my room, the throne room and how to exit the palace, but that is all," Jordan said. "Accompany me to my room. I'll have a few minutes to settle in before I'll get summoned to the throne room if it works like last time." Jordan was walking quickly now, speaking softly, nodding to an occasional passerby. Their feet echoed on the floor, which looked to be a combination of stone and tile. "You can take me to the throne room so you'll learn the way. Offer to take the place of the current guard stationed inside. He won't mind, it's a boring shift. But it'll give you a chance to see her." Jordan came to a plain, unadorned door and opened it, stepped inside. As soon as the door clicked shut and Brandon had quickly glanced around to make sure no one was inside, he pulled the helmet off. His face was wet, sweat dripping into his eyes and making them burn. He pressed the back of his hands against them.

"Here," Jordan passed him a wet towel, and Brandon wiped his face off gratefully. "You're going to see her," Jordan continued as Brandon continued to mop his hot face. "But that is all. You're not to approach her, touch her or speak to her. Sonra and the other guards will be on you in a second if you try. Stand there and observe, but no more." Jordan sat down. "As soon as the shift is over, come back here and wait. She'll want a dose in the evening, she always does. When I go to deliver that, you can come with me. I am always accompanied by a guard since I am in her private chambers. That should be a good time to talk to her. She'll be alone and can speak freely. Okay?"

"If I can't talk to her until tonight, why am I going to the throne room with you?"

"I don't trust you to wait until tonight to see her. I want you to look at her, ease your mind. Be honest with yourself, Brandon, you still don't believe me one hundred percent when I say she's here, do you?"

Brandon didn't answer, just pulled at the towel so it was pressed against the back of his neck. But Jordan was right; there was a tenacious little part of his mind that wouldn't let him believe something that sounded too good to be true, that held onto cynicism and disbelief, guarding him against any possible false hope and he couldn't let go of that. And he did need to see Leia. See her with his own eyes to make sure. Just to know.

"Okay," Brandon finally said. "You're right."

Jordan smiled at him. "I like hearing you say that. When we go, be sure to pay close attention to where we are going. I can't hang around to help you find your way back."

"All right."

Jordan gave him a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Come sit down," Jordan said, leading Brandon over to his bed. Jordan took a pitcher of water and poured a glass of it for Brandon. "Drink this. Are you overheated?"

"No." Brandon drank it anyway, looking around. It was a simple room, a low bed, an armoire and a sturdy desk. A wavy mirror hung on a wall and it was illuminated by lanterns and oil lamps, but most of the light came from the windows. "This is just going so fast. And I've wanted to see her for so long. And now that I'm going to, I'm nervous. Scared."

"Don't be." Jordan sat next to him, taking the glass from his hands. He turned his face towards him and kissed him, slowly, deeply, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "It'll be all right. Relax, baby."

Brandon rested his head on Jordan's shoulder, closing his eyes wearily. He didn't know where he'd developed this nervousness, this anxiety, this cold dread in his stomach. He was going to see her. His Princess Leia. He should be happy, excited.

There was a knock on the door and Brandon stood up, taking several steps from the bed and pulling his helmet back on. Jordan got up and answered the door.

Brandon could hear someone on the other side of the door telling Jordan he had been summoned. Drumming up all his courage, Brandon followed him.

Brandon followed Jordan all the way inside the throne room. Once inside the door, Brandon turned to one of the guards. "I can take this shift if you want to take a break," he offered, striving to sound nonchalant. He saw a shine from the other guard's eyes from inside the helmet.

"You're alright with that?" The voice was thick and accented, but Brandon could understand well enough.

"Yeah, you go on ahead," Brandon said.

The other guard rubbed at his neck, then nodded. "I got no problem with that," the guard said. He handed over his weapon, which looked like some kind of spear, and slipped out of the doors. Brandon settled himself on the other side of the door, glanced at the guard to his left and adjusted his grip on the spear thing so that he was holding it the same way the other guard was.

He saw Jordan crossing the room, and as his eyes followed his progress, he got his first look at Charion's Queen.

When he first saw her, for a split second he had been terrified that he had made the most colossal mistake in history by bringing them here, that Jordan had mistaken Leia for someone else, because that woman on the throne looked nothing like Leia. It was only a second later that he realized he was looking for the old Leia, with her long romantic curls and darkly lined eyes. This was the same Leia, same girl, same face, yet totally different packaging.

This young queen sat on a chair, not quite ornate enough to really be called a throne in Brandon's mind, on a raised dais. She wore a complex headdress, heavy on the rubies, and was wrapped in a dark red and black gown that looked heavy and uncomfortable. Her face was drawn and strained, her posture too tense, holding herself too tightly.

He finally tore his eyes away from the slight figure heaped upon with too much finery and let his eyes pick up the other figures in the room. There was a woman, probably Sonra, standing at Leia's side. She even looked unfriendly, with a sharp featured face and a blunt angled cut to her black hair that did nothing to soften her face. She was dressed in black, with a severely pointed collar jutting out from her shoulders. All angles and sharp points.

The male companion was more interesting. Rajar. Brandon watched him, seated at the foot of Leia's chair. He indeed wore a collar around his neck and matching rings around his wrists and bare ankles. The ring around his neck was chained to the floor next to Leia's seat. But the tethered companion didn't seem at all concerned, stretched across the floor, leaning his upper body up against the chair, his legs spread provocatively. Rajar looked up as Leia slowly gestured Sonra over and spoke into her ear. Brandon was too far away to hear what was being said, but he saw Jordan approaching, the way he dropped down to one knee and the way he seemed to be addressing Sonra more than the Queen.

Frustrated that he couldn't hear the exchange, he turned his attention back to the male. He had a faint orange glow to his skin...not the harsh orange glow some of his classmates got from using too much tanner, but more of a soft apricot. His hair was a dark green, similar to Tananja's, but darker, almost black. His bare feet were too long to pass as human, and Brandon couldn't tell from his vantage point, but it looked like his hands and fingers were a little longer than average, too. And....holy shit, was that a tail? His eyes were fixed to a long slender reptilian appendage extending out behind Rajar. As he watched, it tapped uneasily along the floor, as if translating it's master's boredom.

Brandon remained where he was, even after Jordan had concluded his business and left. Mostly he watched Leia, who spent a lot of her time just sitting there, weighed down by costume. She would occasionally consult with Sonra, and one time he saw her reach down and run her fingers through Rajar's hair.

Rajar seemed content to sit there, unfazed by the fact that he was chained to the fucking floor. Brandon would have been going nuts, and he was surprised that Leia was tolerating it. The Leia he knew would have unchained him and demanded that the rings be taken off his neck and extremities. She wouldn't have even stood for symbols of enslavement. And he was just sitting there, didn't run errands for her or anything. He didn't get it. Royalty was weird.

After a few hours, there was a shift change and Brandon was able to hand off his spear to the person arriving to take his place and he exited the throne room. He walked down through the hallways, carefully retracing his steps, and once he reached the hallway on which he knew Jordan was, he counted down the doors from a statue of a naked woman with no arms until he got to Jordan's and knocked.

Jordan opened it up and Brandon came inside, pulling the helmet off. Christ, he hated wearing that thing.

"Everything all right?" Brandon asked as Jordan shut and bolted the door.

"Yeah. Sonra just wanted another sample to run by her alchemists to make sure nothing has changed and Leia gets her dose as scheduled tonight. What did you think?"

"Well, it's definitely Leia. She looks different though. And you're right, she is huge." He couldn't really see her stomach under all those clothes, but the way they had billowed out around her made it clear it was concealing something large.

"Yeah. If she was in this state back on Earth, she would probably be on bed rest," Jordan said. "I almost wonder if there is more than one in there."

"Like she's pregnant with more than one baby?"

"Yeah." Jordan shrugged. "Twins or triplets maybe? Why not?"

"If we are still working on the monster rape theory, I don't know if that would be possible. Too many places for a mutation to occur. Unless the cells divided abnormally or something," Brandon said, even though he really had no idea. The way women's bodies worked wasn't something he had a lot of knowledge about. "But I really don't know. I just want to get her out of here."

"I know," Jordan said. "We'll need to talk about that."

"Not now," Brandon said. He flopped down on the bed and rolled over. "I'm exhausted. Let me get some rest first." His voice sounded a little muffled.

"Are you hungry?" Jordan asked.

"A little. But mostly tired."

Jordan frowned. Brandon sounded casual enough, but there was a definite note of something else in his voice that Jordan couldn't recognize. He quickly sought for their connection, but Brandon's mind was closed off tight.

"Are you okay?" Jordan asked, unable to hold off his concern.

"Just tired, baby," Brandon answered.

"All right. I'm going to go get some food and let you have your rest, okay?"

"Sounds good. Thanks."

Brandon listened to Jordan quietly leave the room. Once he was alone, he was quick to shed his boots and the heavy outer shirt of his uniform and flung himself back onto the bed, feeling homesick, lonely and foul tempered.

Brandon was growing thoroughly tired of Charion... tired of being in a world where he was a stranger, where he had no place and no purpose. Tired of constantly moving from place to place where nothing was familiar. Tired of their quasi-nomadic lifestyle and not having a home. He ached for his hometown, for his room and school and his Mom's cooking and his friends' faces.

Jordan... Brandon was a little surprised to see him in such obviously high spirits. He had guessed Jordan would be feeling the same way he was... lost and confused. Jordan was acting like this was great, like he was having the time of his life. So Brandon was trying to act like none of this was bothering him, to keep a positive attitude the way Jordan was, but it was hard.

He needed to get out of this place. He just needed to get Leia, get out of here and go back to his life the way he used to be, with his best girl and his boyfriend.

Charion was not for him.

Jordan came back several hours and gently roused him; showed him where he needed to go for food and to get cleaned up. Feeling marginally better, he returned to the room and waited for Jordan to be summoned to Leia's private chambers for her "medicine" to be prepared.

"I made this for you," Jordan said, pushing a tiny square of parchment towards Brandon. Brandon carefully unfolded it and saw a rough map of the palace. "In case you get lost, this-" Jordan pointed to a pathway "-is to the throne room. This is where we stay. And if you need to get the fuck out, there is an exit, here, near this stairway. Okay?"

"Thanks," Brandon said. He felt more comfortable having something like that with him. He leaned forward, kissing Jordan. Jordan kissed him back and ran a gentle hand through his hair. "You okay baby?" he asked, resting his forehead against Brandon's.

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"This place, I was so excited to come here. So excited to see her again. But now--I just want to leave. To get out of here."

"Why?" Jordan's hand continued through his hair.

"I just don't have a place here. I don't have a home. It's nothing but unfamiliar surroundings and the faces of strangers. If it weren't for you and Leia, I would be going crazy." Brandon lifted his face, glancing at Jordan's eyes. "It was going to be fun. An adventure for the both of us. But we've almost died, both of us. And Dathilda and everything..." Brandon shook his head. "This wasn't what I expected. I just want to go home." He closed his eyes. "Don't you?"

Jordan kissed Brandon's forehead. "Look at me." When Brandon opened his eyes, Jordan met his. "I lost my home when I was eleven. My home disappeared with my family. Since then, I've just had places where I have lived. I never had anything that felt like home until I met you. You are my home. Wherever you are, that's where my home is."

Brandon felt hot tears slipping from his eyes and down his face. "I don't deserve you."

"You're being ridiculous." Jordan slipped his arms around him and hugged him tight. "You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me. You saved my life." He could feel Brandon's breath on his neck. "If you want to go back, then we'll figure out a way. Just give me some time, baby. One thing at a time, all right?"

Brandon tried to stem the tears. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're all right."

"I'm acting like a baby."

"You're in a totally different world, in a difficult situation. You had to leave behind everything you know. That's incredibly brave. And you did it all to save a friend. Christ, Brandon, do you know how many people wouldn't even bother? Wouldn't even care? God, you amaze me every single day. I don't know what I did to end up with someone like you, but I am thankful every single morning I wake up knowing I'll be with you. As your Enabler and as your lover."

"I love you," Brandon said.

Jordan's grin lit up his entire world. "I love you, too."

Brandon smiled. "We're having a chick flick moment, aren't we?"

"I won't tell anyone," Jordan promised as his grin changed, became seductive. "How about we change the channel?"

Brandon felt himself being pushed backward, Jordan's body covering his comfortably. "Sounds good. Let's see if we can find a gay porn channel."

Jordan chuckled before he caught Brandon's lips in a kiss, hot, heated lips, tongue slipping out to taste him. Brandon purred appreciatively in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms around Jordan's neck, shifting his hips slightly so that they fit better against Jordan's. He loved this, the feeling of his lover covering him and pressing his mouth open.

A hard knock on the door caused them to break apart. Jordan sighed and got to his feet. "Looks like we'll have to hit the pause button," he said. Brandon pulled on his outer shirt and helmet, stepping into his boots.

Jordan pulled open the door to accept the Queen's summons before turning to Brandon. "Showtime."

Brandon watched Jordan prepare Leia's dose with curiosity. There really wasn't much to it. Jordan simply dumped a spoonful of herbs into the mug, added some hot water and a bit of honey to cover up the taste. It looked a whole lot like making tea.

"Leia has gotten quite dependent on this every night, I think," Jordan said. "She claims she needs it to keep her headaches at bay."

"That wasn't supposed to do anything," Brandon said as Jordan stirred the mixture.

"But it helps her sleep," Jordan pointed out. "Probably something she has been lacking with her being so pregnant and everything. So the extra sleep itself might be one of the things holding her headaches at bay. Either that or she's getting a placebo effect, maybe. But I think it's the sleep. I had to take some of this stuff, too, and fuck if it won't put you under big time." Jordan picked up the mug and gave Brandon a look that Brandon couldn't really decipher. "She's probably going to be very different than the girl you knew before Bran."

"I know," Brandon said confidently. He could see how living for several months like this could change someone.

"Just remember that."

Brandon was fine until they actually entered the Queen's private chambers. Once the guard had seen Jordan was accompanied by "one of them", he relaxed and waved them on through. Jordan knocked on the door and Brandon could hear Leia's softly spoken "Enter."

Jordan opened the door and Brandon edged in behind him, his stomach singing with nerves. He wasn't sure he could handle this, seeing her again. He felt sick, sweaty with his apprehension, perilously close to a breakdown, and he suddenly understood Jordan's insistence that he would be the one to meet with Leia first. Brandon would have given them away for sure.

He looked around and his eyes found her.

This was his Leia. This young woman sitting in front of a vanity, swathed in a silk robe with her hair down and her face relaxed. Brandon automatically averted his
eyes at first, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had seen Leia in everything from full on gothic attire to a bathing suit, but seeing her here, in nothing but a sleeping gown and robe, with her swollen abdomen stretching the fabric, made him feel like he was somehow being inappropriate.

Jordan stepped forward and presented Leia with the mug and she smiled sweetly at him as he dropped down on his knee and bowed his head.

"Thank you," she said simply.

Brandon hurriedly did the same. When he looked up he saw her looking at him with an expression of puzzlement and suspicion. He reached up and pulled off his helmet, shaking his hair back so she could see his face and smiled.

"Hey there, Princess."

He got to his feet as she did the same, staring at him steadily before she finally spoke. "Brandon?"

He nodded, and unable to stop himself, rushed forward and enfolded her in a warm hug, being careful of her swollen stomach. "I'm here, Princess. I'm going to help you out, don't worry." After a moment, he felt her rest her face against his shoulder and he smiled.

A second later he felt a deep, gritting pain where his shoulder and neck connected and jerked away. He stared at the slick of blood across Leia's lips and brought his own hand up to touch his own shoulder, finding his fingers smudged with blood before it really sunk in that Leia had bit him. And not playful friendly nip either, but a violent, hard bite that broke skin and drew blood.

She smiled at him, a few flecks gleaming on her lips before turning away and seating herself. "Sorry," she apologized. "But I wanted to make sure you were real. Taste never lies."

"Leia?" he asked. His neck ached and throbbed. He was still trying to accept that fact that she had bit him.

"Yes. That is me," Leia said. "And I am a Queen, not a Princess." She took her mug, drank from it. Jordan was off to the side, arms crossed, watching carefully but saying nothing. "What are you doing here Brandon?"

"I-I thought you needed my help."

She regarded him coolly. "Do I look like I need your help?"

"Hell yes," he replied. That got a smile out of her.

"And what kind of help do you have to offer me? You think you can help me with this?" She stroked her stomach gently. "It's a bit late for that."

"I can see that," Brandon said.

"Why are you here?"

"Like I said, Princess, to help you."

"No one wants to help me. Not really." She reached up and placed a cold hand on Brandon's cheek. Brandon tensed a little, waiting to be slapped or something. But all Leia did was stare at him.

"Are you him?"

"Of course," Brandon answered, feeling confused. Who the hell else would he be?

"There are too many changers here. Too many fake faces. Prove to me that you are who you say you are."

"How?"

"Tell me a secret. About the two of us."

Brandon looked down at her serious eyes. He thought, maybe, he saw a brief flicker of hope. "When you were little you would sometimes come over to my house to spend the night. And once the lights were off, you would get scared and start to cry. So I would tell you stories to distract you. Fairy tales. Except instead of princesses named Rapunzel or Snow White, they were all named Leia, Princess Leia. Remember?"

She was still watching him.

"Then for your last birthday, I bought you a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales. Not the sweet, sugary crap I used to tell you, but the real deal. You loved them. That was always like you, Leia, always getting a kick out of something with a bit of a dark flavoring to it."

Something in Leia softened and shifted.

"Tell me what I can do for you, Leia," Brandon said. "Anything you want, I'll do it for you."

He saw Jordan shift in his periphery and glanced up briefly, caught the warning look Jordan gave him. He ignored it, glancing back down at Leia.

"Protect me," she whispered. "Please. I'm so afraid."

"Afraid of what, Leia?"

"There are monsters here," Leia said. "Big bears that crawl out of the dark at night. They want to hurt me, to tear me open and eat my baby. But I always wake up when they get close to me and I scream. The guards hear me and chase them away. But I worry that one night I won't wake up in time." She caressed her bulging abdomen fondly. "So many people want to hurt him. My little Ezekiel."

"So it's a boy?" Brandon asked.

Leia smiled and nodded, her face soft, and for a moment, she looked like the old Leia, so much so that his heart ached. "Yes. I will have a son. And he will save us all."

"Save us from what, Leia?"

"Everything."