A Jewel in the Dirt - 18. Who the Great Mother calls

Dante began the first day of Hella, the eleventh month of the year, with a silent prayer. He had been taught that way, and even though he had always questioned traditions, he would never think of doing so for those concerning the dead. In the world in which he had lived until now, the first and last day of the month were holidays, with closed stores, filled temples, covered mirrors and extra place settings on the dining table - accordingly, it surprised him little to blink at a black cloth in the bathroom. But that all the picture frames on the walls were covered - even if there was only a landscape photo in it - surprised him, in addition, in every corner there seemed to be black candles or arrangements of dried flowers. In the kitchen, as expected, there was an empty plate on the table and a tall black candle in the middle of a wreath of fir branches.

Dante hesitated at the sight long enough for Frank to come up behind him.

"Hey..."

"Hey..."

In an oddly familiar gesture, Frank touched him briefly on the lower back and then pulled a lighter from a drawer to light the candle. "You have a funny look on your face..." he then murmured, and Dante shrugged.

"You honor the dead a little differently here, apparently."

Frank raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"I didn't see black candles anywhere before..."

"The Parkers make some of the candles. Plenty of bees around here, after all." He said this unusually seriously and Dante nodded simply; they looked at each other for a moment, then Frank nodded barely noticeably and they began breakfast preparations.

"We're only working until noon today," Frank then began as Dante placed the filled plates on the table. "We're going to Townsend for the Mass."

"But not all of us, right?"

"... no." It seemed to embarrass Frank, so Dante didn't ask further.

Later, when the family had left, he stopped in front of the dresser in the hallway. Two picture frames had been placed there, surrounded by large burning hour candles and dried flowers.

It wasn't hard to guess who the blond boy in the photo on the right was, laughing happily into the camera with cherries hanging over his ears. Anthony.

The other picture showed a middle-aged woman sitting exceedingly stiff in an old-fashioned armchair, wearing a serious, almost disapproving face. Next to her, on a low stool, sat a man- a slave- who also did not look very happy. Purely from logic, it was probably Miss Carolyn's parents, but Dante didn't find much resemblance between Mistress Charlotte and the man on one side and Miss Carolyn and Carter on the other. However, he had seen an uncomfortably similar expression on Mistress Alice's face before, and at the memory of Seth's words that Mistress Charlotte had been a real tyrant, Dante shuddered. Respectfully, he bowed before the images of the dead and left.

~

"I'm afraid it's exceedingly fitting..." Miss Carolyn said abruptly and Dante lowered his fork, casting a questioning sideways glance at Seth, who frowned.

"What is it, dear?" Blaise asked softly.

The matriarch sighed. "Arianna Horner has passed away. The 'harmless cold' was too much for her after all."

For a moment there was silence. Dante didn't know the old lady, but he closed his eyes and mentally said a quick prayer.

"At least she won't have to look at the misery anymore," Miss Britney murmured.

"Excuse me?" asked Miss Carolyn pointedly calm.

"It's true. Maggie can never get the farm together and Matthew is too selfish-"

"That's enough." It was probably Miss Carolyn's expression which silenced Miss Britney, for her voice revealed nothing.

"Matthew does what he can," Miss Sarah said quietly and Daniel grimaced in a silent plea for her to shut up.

"Want to bet he'll show up here in the next few days and start courting Alice?" Miss Britney sneered and Mistress Alice snorted indignantly, but Blaise forestalled her with a reply:

"This is no time for such talk."

Someone drew breath for a retort, yet there was silence.

"I'm going to call Maggie," Dante heard Miss Sarah say after dinner, as he cleared the empty glasses onto a tray. "She's got to remember to file the inheritance papers for Matthew."

"Are you really going to bug her about this now of all times?", Mistress Alice wanted to know critically.

"Slow down Jack, the stairs ain't a race track. Well, not really, but you know the situation. She's too banged up herself to put it on the back burner."

"Why is Miss Carolyn so irritable lately, by the way?", Daniel asked Seth with an unhappy expression.

"I don't know," Seth said quietly, clinking the silverware. "I really don't know."

"Is it because of Flynn or Adam?" Dante dared to ask, and Seth shook his head.

"It started before that."

"Let's hope it subsides quickly, or this is going to be an uncomfortable winter," Daniel said quietly, seeming to shudder.

~

"What?" Dante asked, frowning while turning the ignition key, the engine stopped.

"How did you get into that parking slot?" Mistress Alice looked at him with wide eyes.

"Skill." he said emphatically, deliberately provoking her.

For a moment she merely looked at him, then gave him a playful punch on the arm. "Show-off." She smiled faintly, and inwardly he grinned because he had judged her correctly, though outwardly he allowed himself only a smile as well.

"Entirely yours, mistress." They got out, into the early twilight and the cold wind, and Dante locked the car before handing her the keys.

"Behave yourself." she said sternly.

"Of course, mistress."

"I'm serious, Dante. Ellen cares a lot about appearances, and if you embarrass us..."

"I know how to behave." He let her hear that he was offended, though he didn't really know what she expected of him, since he was a personal slave for the first time.

The answer to this came in part from the kneeling cushions lying beside the tables and the deeply humble posture of the slaves who were already present.

"Alice, over here!" Mistress Alice's best friend Ellen sat in a cozy alcove and raised her hand in greeting.

Dante dutifully lowered his eyes, but still caught a glimpse of an overly large nose and a wry mouth.

"Ellen, my goodness, how long have you been waiting?"

"Oh, not long. I stopped by to see Madeleine and the baby."

The two women chatted blithely, Dante helping his mistress out of her coat and then kneeling on the cushion to her right. His back ached from working and he went into a hollow back a little, knowing it would hurt even more tomorrow, but he wouldn't allow himself to be noticed negatively because of bad posture. When the women ordered hot chocolate, his mouth went dry with envy and he decided to at least treat himself to a hot cocoa tonight, even if the drinking powder was no comparison. He cautiously squinted over at Ellen's slave, who was positioned between the women, and froze- the young man was wearing a leash attached to a hook on the table. Was this a common punishment around here, as it was in Denser's Port, or did it mean something else?

"I heard about Miss Horner," Ellen said at that moment, and Dante listened up. "You're in touch with them, aren't you? Give them my condolences, I don't want to just call."

"Sure." Mistress Alice leaned back as the hot chocolate was served and then Dante winced as she touched him on the head. "Would you like some tea, Dante?"

"I... yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress.", he replied, caught off guard, but not daring to look up.

"Of course, Sister." the waitress said dutifully, hurrying off in clicking heels.

"What's the Horners' situation now?", Ellen picked up the thread again, sounding awkwardly curious.

"Maggie is drawing up the documents for Matthew to be named heir. I'm just afraid, despite all her medical expertise, it's going to take a while," Mistress Alice replied.

"It's a mystery to me why he doesn't just get married. I mean, you're free again now-"

"Ellen..."

"- but there was no way that could have been foreseen."

Mistress Alice sighed, "Because Matthew is Matthew. He wouldn't be happy with just any woman."

"Men aren't ostensibly there to be happy either, Ally," Ellen remarked snidely. "He shouldn't have let Anne go."

"She's lost her patience, Ellen, and I can actually relate to that." Mistress Alice sounded odd, Dante thought, but the gossip about the Horners was more interesting.

"Come on, Victor wasn't that fond-"

"Now don't start comparing Victor and Matthew." Mistress Alice rolled her eyes audibly. "Victor only joined the Brotherhood because of his family, and he gave a damn about it, and Matthew takes it decidedly seriously. According to Sarah, he has-" She didn't voice what he had, but judging by Ellen's giggles, it was something X-rated. It reminded Dante that he hadn't yet asked Blaise or Tom about the Brotherhood, but the thought quickly vanished as a slave bowed at the table.

"Miss, the tea for your slave."

"Thank you."

"Thank you.", Dante also murmured and accepted the tea; for lack of alternatives, he had to put the saucer on the floor. It was only cheap lemon tea, presumably unsweetened, but there was a shrink-wrapped cookie on the spoon, which was a tiny plus.

"... anyway, nothing has happened in that direction yet, if that's what you mean." Mistress Alice sipped her hot chocolate affectedly, and Ellen snorted.

"And now what? What are you doing now?"

"Nothing? I mean, what am I supposed to do?"

"Please don't pick the wrong guy again."

"Val wasn't-"

"Val has always been way too ambitious. Much more than is good for a man," Ellen interrupted her angrily.

"Oh, is there going to be another discussion about how I should have taken Benny after all?"

"I guess he wouldn't be dead now." At Ellen's cool retort, Mistress Alice remained silent for a moment and Dante, who had been about to reach for his tea, paused. The chatter of the other guests suddenly seemed overly loud to him.

"Benny killed himself because Gabby treated him like shit," Mistress Alice finally said slowly and very emphatically, and Dante finished his motion.

"Would you have-"

"What am I supposed to do with a man I know I'm not going to be happy with? I mean, you could have had him too."

The pointed exchange of words continued as Dante sipped his disgustingly sour tea, wishing he had politely declined. As the topic became more uplifting, Ellen began to scratch her slave's head and he fervently prayed that his mistress didn't get the same idea.

She didn't.

He finished his tea and waited, as a good patient slave would.

"Dante, don't ever do that again."

Confused, he gave her a quick glance before turning back to the road. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. But you were boring."

"Boring? Excuse me, but you told me to behave myself."

"Yeah, yeah, it was perfect for the occasion, but it was boring." She sighed and pulled out a smartphone from her jacket pocket that he had never seen her use before. "Ellen's disappointed. I told her you had fire in the belly."

"I have-" Puzzled, he squinted through the windshield.

"I meant it as a compliment."

"Uh... thanks..."

She typed with a smile, then said: "Just be less boring next time."

"Next time I'll stand behind your chair with a scowl and scare the slaves away."

With a soft laugh, she nudged him in the arm and he looked to her again; the glow of the smartphone made her eyes sparkle and he returned her smile. "Eyes on the road." she said quietly and he looked ahead. On the purely external side, she was taking the breakup with Valentine well. Dante himself suspected that Valentine had known full well that she would want to stay, and had forced her to choose. And certainly Mistress Alice was not so foolish as to overlook his ambitions or the direction his aunt had taken as High Priestess years ago. But it was still good to see that she could smile and even laugh.

She gave an annoyed sigh.

"Hmm?" made Dante questioningly.

"We're too far from Townsend, there's no internet connection here," she grumbled, putting the smartphone away.

"This wouldn't have happened to you in Denser's Port..."

"Denser's Port is out of my league," she muttered, and he felt her gaze on him. "But I'm sure you would have loved to go back home, wouldn't you?"

"I go where my mistress sends me."

"Stop the hollow phrases."

"I mean it. Sure, Denser's Port is great, but I'd rather serve a good mistress in the back of beyond than a bad mistress at the center of the world."

She said nothing to that for so long that they reached the long driveway to the farm. "I think I'll keep you."

"Oh... really, why?"

"So I can free you."

~

The cold wave, typical of Hella, came earlier here in the north than Dante was used to, and more violently at that. The others smiled at him a little because he was wearing two pairs of socks and a T-shirt under his normal long-sleeved shirt, but he was freezing. The house also cracked and creaked in the cold, as if pulling up its shoulders and wiggling its cold toes. The size alone made it hard to keep the house warm, and Dante didn't even want to know the cost. What did they use to heat the place anyway? Electricity? Gas? Oil?

The kitchen was one of the few places that was actually consistently warm, and Dante stood by the stove in the morning, letting the gas flame warm his belly as he stirred the pan.

"You look like an animal that's been woken up in the middle of hibernation," Frank teased, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

"It's cold.", Dante complained in the defiant tone Frank usually mastered to perfection.

He promptly chuckled and patted Dante's belly. "Next year you'll have to put on more winter pounds."

"Winter pounds?"

"I wouldn't want you to freeze to death."

Dante snorted. "Then I'll look like Mikey."

"Uh... okay, no, let's not get there. I like you just the way you are." Frank's kiss on his shoulder was barely noticeable. "You know," he said then, and Dante could hear his grin, "on the other hand, that's a pretty good reason to snuggle up."

And don't tell me again he's only ten at heart, Dante thought, as Frank nestled his lap against Dante's butt.

~

"You again!" said Frank, happily surprised, as Dante entered.

"My mistress heard a toddler whining, but with Jack already asleep, there weren't many options left," he returned, grinning as Frank stuck his tongue out at him. What surprised him a little was the fact that Frank was sitting at his desk, trying rather semi-successfully to hide something from Dante; not wanting to embarrass him, he pretended not to have seen anything and went into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth.

As expected, Frank snuggled up to Dante under the blankets and rubbed his nose on the back of his neck. His hand slipped under Dante's pajamas and drew patterns on his skin.

Meanwhile, Dante pondered whether Frank's developmental penny had dropped- and if so, why- and whether his behavior was some kind of subconscious compensation. But why didn't he show his family? Was he afraid they wouldn't believe him? Matching his thoughts, Frank slid his hand down his pants and began to gently fondle his balls- an exceedingly pleasant sensation, he had to admit. However, he then became uncomfortably aware that Miss Carolyn might interpret the matter quite differently, with Dante as the culprit, forcing her son to do such things. He shuddered, and not with arousal, though he was getting hard.

"You're really cold, hmm?" Frank murmured, kissing his neck.

"Yeah...", Dante mumbled, not wanting to reveal his thoughts. At least not now.

"Let me help you get warm," Frank whispered, pushing Dante's pants down, then his own. Frank's skin was hot against his, his erection nestled rock-hard between Dante's buttocks, and a mixture of arousal and fear overtook him, made him shudder. But Frank just kept stroking Dante's dick tenderly. "Do you touch yourself?" he wanted to know, and Dante indicated a shrug.

"Not often." More like not at all.

"What do you like?"

The question surprised him. "I... I don't know."

"Hmm..." Frank's grip tightened a little, his movements quickened, and Dante sighed comfortable.

"That's nice..." It was an extremely pleasant moment, he thought, until Frank began to move. The friction of dick and butt cheeks was too dry, uncomfortable, and Dante's thoughts twitched briefly to the bottle of lube lying in his bedsidetable. He had merely tried the stuff once and found that he didn't like the way it felt, and besides, he didn't need the lube, but neither of them would get up and get it now. Especially since Dante didn't want to mislead Frank into thinking he was ready for the next big step, either.

"You're so quiet...", Frank then whispered and Dante noticed that his mind was completely elsewhere.

"I'm enjoying." he returned, turning his head a little, whereupon Frank kissed him. He was still not really with it, because now he was thinking if anyone could hear them, but then a moan escaped him when Frank changed the rhythm. And then Frank started to make soft lustful sounds, although the little bit of friction on Dante's butt was hardly enough for that. On the other hand, however, Dante liked them, his hips finding a rhythm to match Frank's hand, and then he surprised himself by coming, his back arched wide, and a moan in his ear as if Frank had come at the same moment.

But the lustful fog cleared abruptly when he felt something wet on his butt. "What are you doing?" he asked coarsely.

"Shh..."

"Frank! I-" He tried to turn to Frank, but he wrapped a leg around him and pinned his orgasm-weakened body to the mattress.

"I won't hurt you... don't worry."

"What-"

"I'm just helping myself." Suddenly Frank's dick slid along Dante's butt, and a long second later he realized that Frank was abusing his cum as lubricant to slide between his buttocks. His head sank back onto the pillow and he expelled the air as Frank's low moan became real. It was a strange sensation, but he closed his eyes anyway, letting Frank have his fun.

Finally Frank came and sank against him, breathing heavily, but giving his thigh another wet squeeze.

"Was it good?", Dante wanted to know, and couldn't help a slightly mocking undertone.

"Yeah... I didn't mean to scare you, you know. Did you really think I was just going to...?" His fingertip briefly pushed between Dante's buttcheeks, nearly reaching the back entrance, and Dante nodded. "No. Never." The serious vehemence was reassuring. "I want to try it, with you, but I don't want to hurt you."

"You're pretty big." Dante remarked matter-of-factly, and Frank sighed sorrowfully.

"I know." His hand caressed Dante's bottom and suddenly Dante was uncomfortable, so he turned and Frank's hand disappeared from there. However, he put a hand to Frank's cheek in return and pulled him down for a kiss. "I want to sleep with you," Frank then whispered shyly, and he froze. "Not now, but-"

"It's okay," Dante whispered back, an uncomfortable tingling in his belly. "Just... maybe for now we should wash and get some sleep..."

~

He ran through a supermarket with endless shelves and was looking for something. What it was, he didn't really know himself, but no matter how many corners he turned, he couldn't find anyone to ask. And then he suddenly ran towards a door, on the other side of which someone was standing and knocking. He reached out his hand, it knocked again- and then the floor was pulled out from under his feet. He rolled around, blinking confusedly into the darkness, and registered that Frank was standing up.

There was another knock.

Frank gave an in-between growl and grunt and opened the door.

"Hey, um... I don't want to bother your parents, but... um... Adam died," Tom said so quietly that Dante barely heard him.

Frank grunted again. "If you're already up here," he said slowly, "you might as well tell them straight."

Especially since Tom, as Miss Carolyn's personal slave, actually had every right to do so, Dante thought, but he certainly wouldn't make a sound now.

"I'd rather not. Dennis didn't want me to go up at all."

"Then tell Seth." grumbled Frank, adding an explanation as to which little room belonged to the overseer of the house.

"Okay..." Tom sniffed. "But... don't you think it's a little too cold to sleep naked?"

"I was just getting dressed," Frank growled sullenly. The lie came admirably fluidly from his lips, and Dante scrambled across the bed to keep the alarm clock from ringing every second.

"Okay... I'll see you later," Tom muttered, and Frank closed the door with a sigh.

"That was pretty quick about Adam...", Dante muttered uneasily, fumbling for the light switch.

Frank grumbled unwillingly and rubbed his eyes. "I think it's better this way. At home, asleep..."

Dante nodded thoughtfully and wrapped his arms around himself. Even back when his mistress had died unexpectedly, it had been a strange feeling to know that he himself had slept completely unconcerned not far away. But on the other hand... probably every second a person somewhere was dying.

~

The frozen grass crunched under Dante's boots as he walked to the shrine; even through his jacket he felt the cold bench as he sat down. The Mitchells had united left for Mass once again after Adam's body had been taken away, and the silence of the house had made Dante uncomfortable. He looked up at the statue of the Great Mother and began a silent prayer which was interrupted a little later by the sound of footsteps.

"You shouldn't be sitting here in the cold," Tom said quietly, sitting down beside him nonetheless.

Dante shrugged and gave him a quick glance. The work slaves and Blaise had shaved their skulls, and while it made Blaise look old and downright sick, it suited Tom surprisingly well.

"Do you pray?"

"I was trying to."

"Sorry to interrupt."

"It's okay..." Dante sighed and looked back at the statue.

"Hasn't anyone around you ever died?" Tom asked gently and Dante nodded.

"A mistress. One of the good ones."

"It gets us all at some point. Old age, illness, violence, accident..."

"Tom, please..."

"Sorry."

They were silent for a moment, then Dante quietly wanted to know: "Did ever someone die who was close to you?"

"M-hm." A bitter tug settled around Tom's mouth and he lowered his eyes to his boots.

Dante, who had really wanted to be alone anyway, was silent until Tom finally said:

"I can understand the Mitchells keeping quiet about the dead."

"It still hurts, right?" Dante dared to ask and Tom nodded slowly, nevertheless he refrained from asking who had died.

They were silent once more, and this time it stayed that way. The cold wind crept into Dante's collar, he was terribly cold, but he remained seated until at some point he felt Tom's gaze and together they got up and walked back to the house.

At the door to the workers' entrance they paused. "Adam," they said quietly, almost in unison, kissing their fingertips to touch forehead and chest, "I will speak your name and remember you." To Dante they were ritual words, spoken out of respect for tradition, but he could tell Tom meant it. They stepped over the threshold, and while the depressed mood was almost palpable, Dante wondered if this big house would ever really be his home.